if you do not do it my way.”
Point well taken. “Allow me to give the queen her crown.” He captured her mouth and slowly tongued her back into submissive silence.
Fighting the more aggressive side of his nature, he skimmed the curves of her body with his hands and in her honor, delivered very slow, very precise smooth pumps into her, letting that sweet tightness squeeze him. While the climax he desperately needed and wanted required pounding into her, he refrained. Barely.
She moaned and arched her hips up and up against him.
He stroked, keeping a rolling, easy pace to ensure she kept moaning.
Her hands jumped to his hair and gripped it hard. She cried out against his mouth, shuddering.
Gritting his teeth, he mindlessly thumped into her and then rammed himself deep into that tight womb in an effort to altogether keep himself from spilling. It was too late. He gasped and spilled his seed, allowing that glorious, glorious sensation of rapture to overtake him.
A hand smacked the side of his head hard, making him wince and roll off to the side.
“Christ, Thérèse, what are you—” Gérard didn’t even bother to button his trousers. He heavily flopped his arms to his sides and stared up at the now starry night sky he could see swaying through the branches. “That was hardly necessary.”
She sat up and thudded a fist against his chest.
“Stop—” He sat up and sloppily grabbed at her hands. “What are you doing?”
She stilled, no longer meeting his gaze.
Dragging in a long breath, he tilted his head toward her. “What is it?”
With the flip of her braid, she glared.
“What?” he slurred. “Why are you glaring and hitting me? What did I do?”
“Do you need a list? First , you pound yourself into a virgin. A virgin. Twice now! As if getting pounded is every woman’s fantasy. Second, you—”
His brows went up. “Are you telling me I am a bad lover?”
She pointed. “That is exactly what I am telling you.”
He snorted. “You would be the first woman to complain.”
“Maybe because you were paying them not to,” she icily countered.
His breath burned. He sat further up, feeling more than his dignity being slapped and leveled her with a hard stare. “I have no trouble doing it the way you want. Go on. Educate me.”
She glared. “Oh, I will educate you. I will open a school in your honor. Did no one tell you being rough with a woman during her first few times is likely to rip something?”
Christ. “Did something rip?” he echoed.
“No!”
“Then why the hell scare me like that? I thought I did!” There was no such thing as a perfect woman, was there? “Slow and gentle is for people who know nothing about passion. Without a few bruises, my dear, there are no mementos of what has been. And in my opinion, I was gentle. Incredibly so. I simply prefer things a bit rough. Always have. So I suggest you get used to it. Because that body of yours is going to get pounded.”
She gasped. “The only thing about to get pounded is your head!” Gritting her teeth, she used her foot to shove him away. “Make room on the blanket knowing you will never touch this body again because you obviously know nothing about control. And do not dare think you can change my mind or your pistols will be put to use well before the Legislative Assembly can get to you.”
He hissed out an exasperated breath at the very mention of the Legislative Assembly and grudgingly scooted over, still lying on his back. Fils de salope . He just lost fornication rights to the most beautiful woman he ever met.
She corked the flask, using her skirts to dry the silver, and tossed it onto the blanket beside him.
It was obvious she did not enjoy the sex. He puffed out a breath. “Did you not climax?”
She swung her torso toward him. “My climax is not the problem.”
“Then what is the problem?” he demanded. “Because I cannot address whatever is plaguing you if you intend on—”
“You spilled seed into
Point well taken. “Allow me to give the queen her crown.” He captured her mouth and slowly tongued her back into submissive silence.
Fighting the more aggressive side of his nature, he skimmed the curves of her body with his hands and in her honor, delivered very slow, very precise smooth pumps into her, letting that sweet tightness squeeze him. While the climax he desperately needed and wanted required pounding into her, he refrained. Barely.
She moaned and arched her hips up and up against him.
He stroked, keeping a rolling, easy pace to ensure she kept moaning.
Her hands jumped to his hair and gripped it hard. She cried out against his mouth, shuddering.
Gritting his teeth, he mindlessly thumped into her and then rammed himself deep into that tight womb in an effort to altogether keep himself from spilling. It was too late. He gasped and spilled his seed, allowing that glorious, glorious sensation of rapture to overtake him.
A hand smacked the side of his head hard, making him wince and roll off to the side.
“Christ, Thérèse, what are you—” Gérard didn’t even bother to button his trousers. He heavily flopped his arms to his sides and stared up at the now starry night sky he could see swaying through the branches. “That was hardly necessary.”
She sat up and thudded a fist against his chest.
“Stop—” He sat up and sloppily grabbed at her hands. “What are you doing?”
She stilled, no longer meeting his gaze.
Dragging in a long breath, he tilted his head toward her. “What is it?”
With the flip of her braid, she glared.
“What?” he slurred. “Why are you glaring and hitting me? What did I do?”
“Do you need a list? First , you pound yourself into a virgin. A virgin. Twice now! As if getting pounded is every woman’s fantasy. Second, you—”
His brows went up. “Are you telling me I am a bad lover?”
She pointed. “That is exactly what I am telling you.”
He snorted. “You would be the first woman to complain.”
“Maybe because you were paying them not to,” she icily countered.
His breath burned. He sat further up, feeling more than his dignity being slapped and leveled her with a hard stare. “I have no trouble doing it the way you want. Go on. Educate me.”
She glared. “Oh, I will educate you. I will open a school in your honor. Did no one tell you being rough with a woman during her first few times is likely to rip something?”
Christ. “Did something rip?” he echoed.
“No!”
“Then why the hell scare me like that? I thought I did!” There was no such thing as a perfect woman, was there? “Slow and gentle is for people who know nothing about passion. Without a few bruises, my dear, there are no mementos of what has been. And in my opinion, I was gentle. Incredibly so. I simply prefer things a bit rough. Always have. So I suggest you get used to it. Because that body of yours is going to get pounded.”
She gasped. “The only thing about to get pounded is your head!” Gritting her teeth, she used her foot to shove him away. “Make room on the blanket knowing you will never touch this body again because you obviously know nothing about control. And do not dare think you can change my mind or your pistols will be put to use well before the Legislative Assembly can get to you.”
He hissed out an exasperated breath at the very mention of the Legislative Assembly and grudgingly scooted over, still lying on his back. Fils de salope . He just lost fornication rights to the most beautiful woman he ever met.
She corked the flask, using her skirts to dry the silver, and tossed it onto the blanket beside him.
It was obvious she did not enjoy the sex. He puffed out a breath. “Did you not climax?”
She swung her torso toward him. “My climax is not the problem.”
“Then what is the problem?” he demanded. “Because I cannot address whatever is plaguing you if you intend on—”
“You spilled seed into
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