her,
fumbling with the waistband of his uniform trousers, but, instead of
removing them and along with them the rest of his clothes, he simply
unbuttoned them and then lowered his whole weight against her, pinning
her down on the dusty floor, pushing apart her legs.
She did her best to accommodate him as he positioned
himself between her thighs, confused by her own inability to
communicate to him her tension and afraid of revealing to him her lack
of desire.
The floor beneath her was hard and uncomfortable and she
flinched as he pushed fiercely into her body and then repeated the
jarring movement, cursing under his breath as he met with resistance.
'Relax, can't you?' he muttered as he held her down
beneath him.
Her body's resistance both excited and irritated him,
making him both want to drive hard against it, and impatient to be rid
of the barrier of her virginity. She was far too tense, far too on edge.
He told her as much, angry with her for spoiling his
pleasure, and when he thrust hard into her again Lizzie bit down on
her bottom lip, terrified of letting him see how uncomfortable she
was. She had heard, of course, that sometimes the first time it could
hurt, but she had never imagined it would be like this…
never imagined that her body would feel so tense and dry.
'You should have been a bloody nun,' Kit growled at her as
he finally forced his way past her tense muscles.
He wasn't even looking at her any more, Lizzie realised as
she winced beneath the cruelty of his words and the burden of knowing
that she
had
failed him, that she had failed
herself…that as a woman she was in some way lacking.
Although she knew that what was happening should be giving
her pleasure, instead she was filled with pain and confusion, both
physically and emotionally, so that the harsh sound of Kit's breathing,
the fierce movement of his body within her own, seemed distant and
apart from her. She was acutely conscious of them being not, as she had
imagined, one perfect whole brought together by the intimacy of their
lovemaking, but two very separate individuals.
The physical pain of his possession might have gone, but
she was left with a deeper and far more hurtful emotional pain, so that
when he finally collapsed on top of her, breathing erratically, she
felt no relief, no pleasure, nothing other than a deep welling coldness
and a searing sense of panic. She
had
disappointed him, failed him… she was not somehow a real
woman, a sexual woman.
She could see the condemnation in his eyes, feel it in the
way he refused to look at her as he moved away from her and kept his
back to her as he fastened his trousers.
She was shivering now, her body stiff with cold.
'Come on, sweetheart, you'd better get dressed. I've got
to go and see old Edward again before I leave…'
Her hands shook as she dressed herself. She felt numb
inside, her throat thick with tears.
'You're leaving so soon,' she stammered, forcing back her
tears.
'Have to, I'm afraid, old girl. Duty calls and all
that…'
'But… I thought…' She had thought
they would have longer together. She had thought there would be more
time…
'Don't worry… Shouldn't be too long before I
can get a twenty-four-hour pass,' Kit lied to her. The last thing he
wanted right now was a tearful scene.
Already, now that his desire for her was sated, he was
beginning to forget how sharply he had wanted her. Soon she would be no
more than another memory… another girl to join all the
others there had been. It was wartime, and a man like him who lived
constantly on the edge of danger was entitled to take what pleasure he
could from life.
They made their way back to where Kit had parked his car
in silence. Whatever she did, she must not give way to her
misery… she must not break down in tears. Men hated seeing
women cry, Lizzie knew. And, besides, she must be strong now, she must
send him away from her with a smile so that his last memory of her
would be a good one.
She ached to plead
fumbling with the waistband of his uniform trousers, but, instead of
removing them and along with them the rest of his clothes, he simply
unbuttoned them and then lowered his whole weight against her, pinning
her down on the dusty floor, pushing apart her legs.
She did her best to accommodate him as he positioned
himself between her thighs, confused by her own inability to
communicate to him her tension and afraid of revealing to him her lack
of desire.
The floor beneath her was hard and uncomfortable and she
flinched as he pushed fiercely into her body and then repeated the
jarring movement, cursing under his breath as he met with resistance.
'Relax, can't you?' he muttered as he held her down
beneath him.
Her body's resistance both excited and irritated him,
making him both want to drive hard against it, and impatient to be rid
of the barrier of her virginity. She was far too tense, far too on edge.
He told her as much, angry with her for spoiling his
pleasure, and when he thrust hard into her again Lizzie bit down on
her bottom lip, terrified of letting him see how uncomfortable she
was. She had heard, of course, that sometimes the first time it could
hurt, but she had never imagined it would be like this…
never imagined that her body would feel so tense and dry.
'You should have been a bloody nun,' Kit growled at her as
he finally forced his way past her tense muscles.
He wasn't even looking at her any more, Lizzie realised as
she winced beneath the cruelty of his words and the burden of knowing
that she
had
failed him, that she had failed
herself…that as a woman she was in some way lacking.
Although she knew that what was happening should be giving
her pleasure, instead she was filled with pain and confusion, both
physically and emotionally, so that the harsh sound of Kit's breathing,
the fierce movement of his body within her own, seemed distant and
apart from her. She was acutely conscious of them being not, as she had
imagined, one perfect whole brought together by the intimacy of their
lovemaking, but two very separate individuals.
The physical pain of his possession might have gone, but
she was left with a deeper and far more hurtful emotional pain, so that
when he finally collapsed on top of her, breathing erratically, she
felt no relief, no pleasure, nothing other than a deep welling coldness
and a searing sense of panic. She
had
disappointed him, failed him… she was not somehow a real
woman, a sexual woman.
She could see the condemnation in his eyes, feel it in the
way he refused to look at her as he moved away from her and kept his
back to her as he fastened his trousers.
She was shivering now, her body stiff with cold.
'Come on, sweetheart, you'd better get dressed. I've got
to go and see old Edward again before I leave…'
Her hands shook as she dressed herself. She felt numb
inside, her throat thick with tears.
'You're leaving so soon,' she stammered, forcing back her
tears.
'Have to, I'm afraid, old girl. Duty calls and all
that…'
'But… I thought…' She had thought
they would have longer together. She had thought there would be more
time…
'Don't worry… Shouldn't be too long before I
can get a twenty-four-hour pass,' Kit lied to her. The last thing he
wanted right now was a tearful scene.
Already, now that his desire for her was sated, he was
beginning to forget how sharply he had wanted her. Soon she would be no
more than another memory… another girl to join all the
others there had been. It was wartime, and a man like him who lived
constantly on the edge of danger was entitled to take what pleasure he
could from life.
They made their way back to where Kit had parked his car
in silence. Whatever she did, she must not give way to her
misery… she must not break down in tears. Men hated seeing
women cry, Lizzie knew. And, besides, she must be strong now, she must
send him away from her with a smile so that his last memory of her
would be a good one.
She ached to plead
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