Page 82 of Across Time

He hesitates for only a second and then gives into it, the urge to thrust, to fill, to push until he can’t go any farther. He falls forward with a small cry, bracing himself above me, and by the time he’s opened his eyes to check on me that initial shock of pain is leaving and in its wake is another feeling—full, stretched. It still hurts, but there’s pleasure there too, some deeper craving that now thrums inside me, wanting.

“More,” I demand, and then his mouth is on my neck, on my breasts, as he withdraws and pushes back in, once, twice, three times. And suddenly all the pleasure, all the craving—it seems to center itself, a circle of flame he hits with every thrust.

Ohhhh. It’s so much more than I realized it could be.

“I don’t ever want this to stop,” I gasp.

His eyes are squeezed shut as if he’s in pain. “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he says between gritted teeth. He stops moving, but his fingers go to my clitoris and begin to circle there. With him fully inside me, nothing has felt better in my entire life. I tighten around him. “Please,” I beg. “Move.”

He thrusts once, hard, and the sweet sharpness of it has me gasping, digging my fingers into his back. His face is desperate, tight with restraint, groaning low in his chest as I clamp down on him.

“Again,” I demand, my legs wrapping around his back for leverage, meeting his thrusts, demanding they come harder and swifter until that ache inside me tightens, tightens and finally explodes.

I cry out, arching off the bed pulling him against me, greedy and desperate, and his movements grow frenzied—swift, stabbing thrusts that prolong my orgasm, making me feel like I’m suspended in mid-air for seconds, a full minute, before he gives a single hoarse cry and pulls out, gripping himself, spilling across my stomach and chest.

He falls against me, his mouth pressed to my neck. “I’ve wanted that for so long,” he groans against my skin. “From that first day in the barn.”

I laugh, pulling him closer. “When you were holding me at gunpoint?”

“Yes, even then. And nothing from my fervent imagination could match the reality of it.” He presses small, sweet kisses to my brows, my cheekbones, and finally my lips. “You’re…okay? It didn’t hurt too much?”

I pull his lips back to mine. “It was a lot better than okay. They probably heard me clear to the other end of town. Although we shouldn’t make a habit of doing it without protection,” I say. “It doesn’t matter today because my cycle just ended, but it will matter a lot going forward.”

“Protection?” He looks at me blankly for a moment. And then he sighs, realizing what I’m saying. "Contraceptives are illegal—selling them here means six months in jail, so even on the black market they’re hard to come by. Our version of protection is what I just did. That and watching the calendar.”

My God. If a man back home were to suggest pulling out and the calendar method as ongoing forms of contraception, any female would laugh in his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t—” I begin, just as his lips press to my neck, and I forget my point.

His fingers slide over one breast, which tightens in response. “I love that,” he says with a soft groan, rolling over me to place his mouth at the tip. “This about killed me that day in the field when we fought over the chocolate.”

“If I recall correctly, you walked away like it was no big deal.”

He laughs. “I walked away like it was no big deal so I could…take care of an issue you created.”

A small moan escapes my lips at the thought of him taking care of an issue. “I want to watch you do that.” He leans down, fully hard again, sliding his hands behind my neck as he begins to kiss me.

My legs spread and he pushes inside me once more. “It might be a while,” he says, biting his lip, “before I’m willing to do anything but this.”

* * *

When I wake, Henri is entering the room with a tray. He’s shirtless, wearing only the pants from before, which are half buttoned and hang from his hips.

“You’re not wearing a shirt,” I say, eyeing him as if this is something I haven’t seen before. To be fair, it’s something I’ve mostly seen from a distance, back when sliding my palms over all those hard muscles and smooth skin was something I wouldn’t allow myself to do.

He gives me a half smile. “And you’re wearing nothing at all, beneath that sheet,” he says, placing the tray on the bed. “Which is something I’m going to try not to think about until you’ve been fed.”

It’s only now that I notice the haziness of the light outside. “It’s dusk? I slept all afternoon.”

He laughs. “You exerted a great deal of energy this morning. You needed your rest.” He takes a spoonful of stew and holds it to my lips. “Eat.”

I obey him and then look over his shoulder at the door. “What’s Marie going to think?” I ask. “I should go out there.”

“Marie is gone for the evening,” he says with a small smile. “She left a note saying she was staying with her friend Anna and would return in the morning.”

My cheeks grow hot and I cover my face with my hands. “I never heard her come in. Does that mean…do you think she heard us?”

He pulls my hands away, grinning. “I think most of the town probably heard us, that last time.”

I groan, picking up the tray and setting it off to the side. “We’ll need to be more careful once she gets home.”