Page 81 of An Inconvenient Vow

“I’ll show you,” she whispered, and the next thing he knew she was pressing his thumb to her wet slit, and he was feeling her exquisite trembling flesh against his questing fingers.

“Do you feel that?” she asked so quietly he could scarce hear her over his labored breathing.

Jeffree nodded, then realizing she would likely not see it, growled, “Yes,” aloud.

“This is my bud. It is where I touch myself when I wish to make myself ready. It is very sensitive.”

Carefully, Jeffree pressed the pad of his thumb to the delicate bud. Sabina gave a muffled sob.

“Too hard?” he asked quickly, relaxing the pressure, though he could not bring himself to withdraw his hand from where it rested so intimately against her, feeling her nether hair tickling his fingers.

“Nay, ’tis not that.” He felt the brush of her own hand against his and then she guided his thumb to touch her over and over with varying touches. Some feather-light, others firmer. Sometimes she had him circle his thumb, others he had to drag it over the bud, teasing and tormenting. Sabina gasped and moaned beneath their joint ministrations until he felt almost lightheaded himself from the contact.

Suddenly, he felt her hips jolt and she gave a choked cry and held his hand in a vice-like grip. He was not completely ignorant. He had heard a few moans and groans over the years when staying at rough and ready inns and had even walked in on a couple once who had been making use of an empty chamber. Apparently, women could reach the point of pleasurable oblivion as well as men, despite the fact they spilled no seed.

Clearly, Sabina had just reached hers. She breathed raggedly for a minute and then plucked his hand away. “My bud’s too sensitive for touching now,” she explained. “You can just put it in.”

“Put it in?” he repeated blankly.

“And seek your own pleasure,” she explained. If he had not been ridiculously overstimulated, he was pretty sure this would have dampened his ardor. As it was, nothing was likely to do that now. Still, when he made no immediate move, she reached for him and encouraged him to position his cock at her cleft.

Still, he paused before thrusting home. She gave a choked gasp beneath him, and Jeffree stilled, despite his loins clamoring for him to lose himself in her body’s tight clasp. “You take no pleasure in this part, then?” he heard himself wheeze. Despite his mind closing down from sheer delight, the thought was oddly disquieting to him.

Sabina hesitated before replying. “I did not say that precisely.” She sounded flustered as she slid her arms about his shoulders. “’Tis only that, for me, the kissing and touching is the part where I feel the moment of rapture, not when you”—her words faltered a moment—“er… give me your seed,” she concluded in a stifled voice.

Jeffree frowned furiously as he strove to take this new information on board. Still, he could not resist a firm buck of his hips. The attendant jolt of exaltation almost made him shout aloud. Instead, he buried his face in her neck to muffle his groan. He did not notice when he started kissing along her jaw. Not until she whispered his name and ran a hand up his neck and into his hair. Then the scrape of her fingertips against his scalp made him groan again.

Suddenly, inexplicably, it became of the utmost importance that he captured her lips with his own and that he made her feel the same wild urgency that consumed him in this moment. She liked kissing and touching? Well, they were already kissing, but what if he touched her now, even as his hips shifted restlessly over her own?

She had said her bud was too sensitive, but what about her glorious breasts? He cupped them beneath his hands and squeezed. Sabina gave a gasp which went straight to his groin. “Too sensitive?” he asked huskily and scarcely recognized his own voice.

Sabina let out a shuddering breath. “N-no,” she stammered. “I just did not think… I mean, you are already… that is—oh!”

He had no idea what she was babbling about, but from the way she was catching her breath and whimpering, guessed she liked his fingers which were now plucking at her delightful nipples. He wondered if he could stand to suck them into his mouth or if it would all be too much and send him hurtling off the precipice he was climbing until he felt as though he was poised on a perilous ledge.

“Jeffree?” she said breathlessly, and he belatedly remembered that she liked speech during the act. But what to regale her with? he wondered a little wildly. He was never exactly smooth of speech and the current social etiquette defeated him altogether. What did you say to a woman when your finger and thumb were squeezing her nipple and she was accommodating your cock between her sumptuous thighs?

Praise her. He was not sure where the notion originated but he was too far gone to fight it. “You’re magnificent,” he heard himself utter hoarsely. “Incredible, exquisite, I can’t stop—I never want to—don’t you dare expect me to—” He had no idea what the fuck he was saying.

“I won’t,” she moaned beneath him. “I would never.”

He was so relieved; he took her mouth again, her beautiful, impertinent mouth. The stroke of her tongue against his own made him fear he was in danger of losing his wits. What were they even talking about?

Sabina writhed beneath him, and for a moment, he almost pitched over the side. He wanted them to go off the edge together. Was that too much to ask? Maybe so, he realized as another groan was wrenched from deep in his chest. She felt so good he was going to lose his mind. He never wanted to be parted from her, he realized, half-incredulous, half-elated. She was his and he would never let her go. Not ever.

He sent up a prayer of fervent thanks to whatever god of mischief had led Leland and Alfred Hendry to accuse him of trysting with her. He should have been climbing through her godsdamned window if he’d had known what was good for him. He chased her lips again in the effort to distract himself from the increasing urgency of his thrusts, his almost overwhelming urge to spill deep inside her.

Sabina’s thighs squeezed his sides; she wrenched her mouth from his. “Oh, Jeffree, Jeffree—” she keened. Then she gasped and arched her back and he felt her shudder and clench all around him. “Oh!”

She was there again and the feel of it, when he was inside her, made his eyes roll back and his entire body convulse. Jeffree bellowed like a maddened bull, and then he was pounding into her, all rhyme and reason gone. He could not get close enough or deep enough. Words fell from his lips, disjointed words, curses, he was not sure he did not implore for the moment to never, ever end.

He wanted to lose himself within her without any hope of ever being found. He had never been a religious man, but he had heard of ecstasies overtaking the holy. If they were anything like this then he did not blame them for renouncing all other ways of life. Then he was spurting so long and hard that he would have been alarmed if he had not been quickly overtaken with a sweet bliss that rolled through his limbs like a potent, drugging wine and he collapsed like a dead man, oblivious to everything.

When next he came to his senses, he was slumped over her like a dead weight and all he could hear was harsh, labored breathing. It took him a moment to realize the one panting was him. He reared back as quickly as his sluggish body would allow. Had he crushed her to death? Sabina let out a faint moan of protest. “Wife?”

“Mmmph,” she mumbled, gently pushing on his chest. “Let me up. I need to wash.” He rolled off her, though in truth, it was the last thing he wanted to do. Sabina shuffled out of bed and made for the basin where she started pouring water and splashing about. He listened to the sound of her squeezing out the washcloth and yawning as she cleaned herself up.

“Did you want me to pour you some water?” she asked with a yawn. With a flicker of surprise, Jeffree realized his impulse was to refuse it and stay where he was. “Too tired?” she added sounding amused.