“Then you have to be quiet.” He whispered to the back of his hand still lightly covering the bottom half of my mouth.
“Now it’s going to feel a little different.”
I gave him a questioning look.
“That felt good, didn’t it?”
I bit my lip under his hand and my eyes fell.
“Come now, Belle. Be truthful. You know it did.”
I met his gaze. Unwilling to admit the truth but not denying it either.
“I want to offer you a better taste.”
I didn’t know what that meant but there was an ache building inside me that didn’t seem inclined to be denied. I nodded slightly.
His hand moving with my chin.
He plucked at his breeches a moment and then I felt something pressing against my entrance again.
And feeling almost softer but harder at the same time.
It slid smoothly inside me but my back bent reflexively as everything inside me stretched to fit him.
He moaned in pleasure. “You feel good, Belle. I knew you would. You fit me like a glove. Your body perfectly suited to swallow mine.”
“I’m inside you, Belle.” He explained flatly. “I can feel you.”
I knew that was bad. I could see both his hands now and knew we were connected at the pelvis. And I understood enough of mating to know that this act was what defiled ladies.
This act is the one that makes men have to marry damaged goods.
I was now his damaged goods.