Page 102 of The Language of Love

“Henry,” she gasped, shifting to give him better access.

He ground against her like a horny lad. “You like that?” he asked when she gave a low moan, her breathing ragged, her lips parted.

Her only answer was an inarticulate growl.

Henry walked her over to her bed, where he laid her out on the mattress and then pulled away.

“Henry?” She stared up at him with eyes that were black with desire.

“Tsk, tsk, so impatient,” he teased, unbuttoning the short line of buttons on her prim white nightgown.

She pushed his hands away. “I can do it faster. I want to see you. Please.”

Her eagerness for him was an aphrodisiac, not that he needed one on top of everything else, and he pulled the sash on his robe and let it slide to the carpet, watching her face as he bared himself.

“Oh, goodness,” she whispered, her lips parting in a way that gave him all sorts of ideas.

He gritted his teeth and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, squeezing hard.

She pushed up on to her elbows, her gaze riveted to his hand. “What are you doing, Henry?”

“I’m trying to make our evening last a bit longer,” he said, his voice taut with both arousal and discomfort.

“How does that work?”

He gave a strangled chuckle. “You like to know things, don’t you?”

“Especially things like this,” she agreed.

“I don’t exactly know how it works, but if I squeeze hard enough, I can delay my climax. Remove your nightgown,” he ordered.

She scrambled to obey, not taking her eyes from him.

Any progress he’d made slowing his arousal went out the window when she flung away the muslin gown and exposed herself to his hungry eyes.

“Lord, but you’re lovely,” he said, his gaze skimming slowly over her small, pert breasts with their tiny, pebbled nipples, down to her flat stomach, and settling on the triangle of wheat-colored curls at the top of her slim legs.

“I’m too scrawny,” she demurred, her gaze still on his cock.

“No, you’re delicate—like a fairy.”

She cut him a quick, startled glance before dropping her gaze again.

He wanted to worship every inch of her with his lips and tongue, but he’d not last thirty seconds. Instead, he climbed up onto the bed.

“Lie back,” he ordered gruffly. “I had plans to take things slow our first time, but we’ll have to leave that for later. Right now, love, I need to be inside you.”

She continued to stare at his cock, her lips parted, her expression odd.

“Annis? Is something wrong?”

***

Annis couldn’t stop looking at his membrum virile.

“Annis? Is something wrong?”

She could hear the concern in his voice and wrenched her gaze away before shaking her head.