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Authors: Monica Knightley
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had been careful to make sure it never touched her, knowing what would happen if it did.
When her slippery folds made contact with him, she cried, “Oh my!” and crushed herself more frantically against him, grabbing his buttocks and pushing him to her. She kissed his neck, his shoulder, and again his mouth as she pressed herself to him.
Intensely aware that he was not with a whore, but with a delightful, lovely woman whom he greatly esteemed, he fought to hold himself in check. He wanted this first experience to be one of pleasure for Jane. That the deflowering process was painful could not be avoided. But still, she deserved pleasure. Wonderful, otherworldly pleasure. That was what he desperately wanted to give her.
Gabriel kissed Jane, and the kiss he received from her was desperate. He moved his hips, spread her legs wide, and gently pressed himself against her. The slowness was excruciating for him, but of course it was necessary for her, he knew. Each quarter-inch was hard won. He held her hips still, and entered her inch by slow inch. Even as a human he was what would be termed ‘well-endowed,’ but now as a vampire he was even larger, in both length and girth, and if he were to enter her with any more force he would surely rip her apart.
Jane’s face was screwed up tight. But in pain or pleasure? He got his answer when she forced her hips upward, then grabbed his hips and pushed his full length into her. The deep plunge made her cry out, and he knew he had hurt her.
How was it that she had gone through thirty-nine years of life, unaware of a place deep within herself that ached to be touched and filled? Jane asked herself. Since Gabriel’s fingers had first caressed her wetness, she had felt a longing, an emptiness far within herself that needed to be satiated. Naturally she knew this first time would bring pain, but the deep desire for satisfaction overrode any fear she may have had.
How often had she written of maidens marrying the men they loved? Numerous times. How often had she written of the wedding night? Never, she thought ruefully. That there were physical desires the newly wedded would be feeling never had crossed her inexperienced mind.
How foolish of her.
Her decision to go to Gabriel’s room and his bed had been sudden and not at all thought out. She had allowed her mind and better sense to give way to her body and its long-denied needs when she tiptoed down the hallway to the room she had earlier been told was Gabriel’s. Nearly changing her mind when her hand had rested on the doorknob, she had to catch her breath and admonish herself for her fears, before opening the door and entering the room. Seeing Gabriel sitting undressed on his bed sent heretofore unknown flutterings to her most private of places, and she knew at that moment that she would not be leaving his room with her virginity intact.
As she forced him to fully enter her, the pain had been searing, but as with so much of what was happening in this bed—all these new experiences—it wasn’t also without surprise. Surprise that the sharp pain was also mixed with pleasure, and though she had to bite her lips to keep the tears at bay, she began rocking her hips to match his rhythm as he thrust again and again.
In a voice much deeper than she had yet heard come from him, Gabriel moaned her name, “Jane.”
Eyes tightly closed, she smiled at the sound of her Christian name and the intimacy of his using it, and the supreme intimacy they were sharing.
“Jane, I am hurting you.” Each word was a grunt.
He kissed her, then, still groaning, he said, “It will not do.”
Gabriel slowed his thrusts and gently kissed and nuzzled her neck. One hand was caressing a breast, and the combination of all these sensations elicited little moans and sighs from her.
When it happened, Jane found herself confused more than frightened or horrified, and thought perhaps her lover had simply become carried away with his nuzzling of her neck.
When her slippery folds made contact with him, she cried, “Oh my!” and crushed herself more frantically against him, grabbing his buttocks and pushing him to her. She kissed his neck, his shoulder, and again his mouth as she pressed herself to him.
Intensely aware that he was not with a whore, but with a delightful, lovely woman whom he greatly esteemed, he fought to hold himself in check. He wanted this first experience to be one of pleasure for Jane. That the deflowering process was painful could not be avoided. But still, she deserved pleasure. Wonderful, otherworldly pleasure. That was what he desperately wanted to give her.
Gabriel kissed Jane, and the kiss he received from her was desperate. He moved his hips, spread her legs wide, and gently pressed himself against her. The slowness was excruciating for him, but of course it was necessary for her, he knew. Each quarter-inch was hard won. He held her hips still, and entered her inch by slow inch. Even as a human he was what would be termed ‘well-endowed,’ but now as a vampire he was even larger, in both length and girth, and if he were to enter her with any more force he would surely rip her apart.
Jane’s face was screwed up tight. But in pain or pleasure? He got his answer when she forced her hips upward, then grabbed his hips and pushed his full length into her. The deep plunge made her cry out, and he knew he had hurt her.
How was it that she had gone through thirty-nine years of life, unaware of a place deep within herself that ached to be touched and filled? Jane asked herself. Since Gabriel’s fingers had first caressed her wetness, she had felt a longing, an emptiness far within herself that needed to be satiated. Naturally she knew this first time would bring pain, but the deep desire for satisfaction overrode any fear she may have had.
How often had she written of maidens marrying the men they loved? Numerous times. How often had she written of the wedding night? Never, she thought ruefully. That there were physical desires the newly wedded would be feeling never had crossed her inexperienced mind.
How foolish of her.
Her decision to go to Gabriel’s room and his bed had been sudden and not at all thought out. She had allowed her mind and better sense to give way to her body and its long-denied needs when she tiptoed down the hallway to the room she had earlier been told was Gabriel’s. Nearly changing her mind when her hand had rested on the doorknob, she had to catch her breath and admonish herself for her fears, before opening the door and entering the room. Seeing Gabriel sitting undressed on his bed sent heretofore unknown flutterings to her most private of places, and she knew at that moment that she would not be leaving his room with her virginity intact.
As she forced him to fully enter her, the pain had been searing, but as with so much of what was happening in this bed—all these new experiences—it wasn’t also without surprise. Surprise that the sharp pain was also mixed with pleasure, and though she had to bite her lips to keep the tears at bay, she began rocking her hips to match his rhythm as he thrust again and again.
In a voice much deeper than she had yet heard come from him, Gabriel moaned her name, “Jane.”
Eyes tightly closed, she smiled at the sound of her Christian name and the intimacy of his using it, and the supreme intimacy they were sharing.
“Jane, I am hurting you.” Each word was a grunt.
He kissed her, then, still groaning, he said, “It will not do.”
Gabriel slowed his thrusts and gently kissed and nuzzled her neck. One hand was caressing a breast, and the combination of all these sensations elicited little moans and sighs from her.
When it happened, Jane found herself confused more than frightened or horrified, and thought perhaps her lover had simply become carried away with his nuzzling of her neck.
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