Work Text:
John paced, restlessly outside his bedroom, running his hands nervously through his already tousled hair. He knew Denise was waiting for him on the other side of the door but his nerves were running wild.
Just about a year ago, Denise had opened her little beauty emporium in her uncle Edmond’s old shop. Although it’s profits paled in comparison to the Paradise, the unusual (and some would say risque) merchandise had found quite a niche. It had become popular and even expected for the well-to-do ladies of town to be seen in Miss Lovett’s shop, trying out the latest in skin cream, scented balms, oils & eau de toilette. It had become an important stop after their visits to the Paradise. Denise was steadily making a name for herself and was also bringing in a tidy profit. Most importantly, she was so happy to be her own keeper, to be the mistress of her own future. John Moray had watched her journey proudly, and a little in awe. After all, her merchandise was unusual; initially, he had not been sure that her business plan would work although he had carefully kept that to himself. Her business was growing in popularity so quickly, she now had 2 shop girls to help her.
After their respective shops closed for the day, Denise & John dined in the cozy kitchen and living space in the back of her shop and spent the evenings together, talking about their businesses and bouncing ideas off one another , speaking of their own futures and trying to avoid getting carried away in their kissing. John acknowledged that he had found it increasingly difficult to stop at simply kissing Denise.
It had been so long since their affair had begun, nearly two and a half years. He had wanted her back then, so much. The morning he had deserted Katherine Glendennings at the altar, he had kissed Denise and thought he had never wanted anything or anyone more than he desired her. The year he spent in Paris had proven him wrong about that; he had burned for her touch, desperate for her soft looks, her caresses on his cheek, his neck, his back and her kisses which he thought were almost as hungry as his. When he returned from Paris and she would not marry him, his desperation grew. Being able to see her everyday, her elegant, graceful form, the way she would sneak a look at him when no one saw and her blue eyes would look so innocent and yet so full of longing. And, then, when she left the Paradise to begin her little Emporium, the desire grew so much larger. Everyday, he counted the hours until he could see her in the evening, until he could kiss behind her ear while she cooked supper on the stove, his hands clasping her waist, until he could hold her beautiful face in his hands and kiss her until she was breathless.
John had tried to be well behaved. Occasionally, his hands had ghosted over her shape. Once or twice, she had been so carried away that her hands had dropped to his backside and pulled him into her so that she could kiss him more deeply. When she realised where her hands were, she slowly opened those lovely eyes and looked up at him, an impish smile on her face with a trace of embarrassment.
Several weeks ago, Denise had complained of her sore feet from her long days at the store. John had persuaded her to allow him to offer his help. He dropped to his knees beside the settee and unlaced the high boots she wore. After they were off, he slowly reached up to the top of her stockings, stroking the soft skin on the inside of knee as he did so, and unrolled them down over her graceful feet. His hands took her feet firmly between them and began a thorough massage, kneading her insole and ending with encircling and pulling each delicate toe gently. Her eyes closed and the soft sighs she emitted were so sensual, he nearly went mad. How he had wanted to run his hands up her legs from her feet and feel everything that was hidden beneath her gown. He had instead unpinned her hair and felt drunk, running his fingers through the the silky, golden lengths, pulling just a bit at the ends until her chin tipped back and she bared her slender neck for him to nibble. Finally, some small thread of reason had snapped him back and he rose abruptly from the settee to the chair across the room. Denise’s eyes had popped opened then and a crease of worry crossed her brow. John quickly arranged his face into what he hoped was a rueful smile. “Do not worry my love” he had said, “I just want you to be my wife so very much. I must remember to behave myself”. Her face had relaxed into a radiant smile and she nodded just slightly.
Despite these moments, he had tried to keep things respectable, as he never wanted her to lose control and do something she would regret. When she became his wife, he was determined that it would be because that was her heart’s desire, not because she had been compromised and had to marry him.
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how much Denise knew of what happened between man and wife. Being a country girl, she must know of the facts of life from seeing animals mate, of that he was sure. But he didn’t know how far her knowledge went.
Most women seemed to be disinterested in the physical side of love. Even John’s first wife, though she had loved him and was eager to be close to him, by his approximation, simply endured love making. Anything outside of the most basic acts, Helene had seemed shocked by and begged John to stop. She adored his attention and kisses but her interest ended there. It seemed that the only thing that appealed to her about love making was the possibility of children. It had left John feeling guilty and frankly, avoiding physical intimacy with her.
He thought that perhaps Denise would be different, a thought he clung to fiercely. But he was scared. He did not want to shock her, or hurt her or disappoint her. He wanted only to please her and make her burn for him as he did for her. They were equals in their relationship, as odd as it sounded to everyone else. He wanted their love making to be on equal ground as well.
Two evenings after John had taken down Denise’s hair and almost lost control, she had gotten down on her knees beside the chair he sat on, in her little parlour. Her sweet smile and blue eyes seemed oddly nervous. John had stroked her soft cheek and smiled drowsily at her, saying “Sweetheart, what ever is the matter that you look so worried?” Denise lowered her eyes from his warm brown ones and whispered, “It is time John. Will you have me? Will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?” She said it so imploringly, with a quaver in her voice as if she was unsure of the answer. As if he could ever live without her by his side. As if he could ever say no to her. He slid off the chair to join her on her knees and gathered her to him, his face so jubilant that her smile soon echoed his own. “Of course! It is I that am honoured Denise, to have you be my wife!”
It all went very quickly after that. The license was obtained and a small ceremony planned. Denise did not desire a large or grand wedding. An elegant but simple white satin dress was ordered from Ladieswear and the ceremony was put into place. The guest list was small - Edmond and Audrey, Dudley and Alice and many of the employees of the Paradise. A sumptuous but short trip to Paris was planned for after the wedding.
It had all gone beautifully. Denise walking towards him, light as air while holding her Uncle Edmond’s arm, looking every bit an angel in her gown with a delicate wisp of a bridal veil only just obscuring her lovely face. He could still see the light of her eyes, fair blue, as light as a spring day. They had said their vows, quietly, only meant for one another. They had insisted that “obey” be left out of the ceremony, though the vicar was shocked by this omission. Afterwards, a bridal breakfast was held at the Paradise and it felt like home to them, all the employees gathered around them like family.
In the evening they had retired to John’s sophisticated townhouse, now home to both of them. Finally alone, they had kissed deeply in the foyer. John was growing frantic in his desire and yet he could feel Denise’s trepidation leaking around the edges of her returning kiss. She was frightened. That pained him more than anything - the thought that she might fear him, any part of him. He only ever wanted to please her. He knew that he could if she could abandon her fear. She excused herself demurely to make her toilet. He had set up an cozy alcove for her in his master suite, full of her very own beauty emporium products, a large dressing table and a cheval mirror just like the one in Ladieswear at the Paradise.
He had left her there for almost an hour, pacing, outside the room. So anxious to see his bride, and finally touch her as he had longed to for over two years. To finally spend the night with Denise in his arms. The way he had long known it was truly supposed to be. Finally, the moment was here. He knocked softly.
“Denise, may I come in?” he asked. Her voice was unsure but steady “Yes John, come in.” He turned the knob, entered the room, past the large bed with the sumptuous spread he had purchased because he thought it might be to her liking, and turned the corner to her little alcove.
She sat at the dressing table bench, more breathtaking than he could have imagined. She was clad in only one of the exotic french corsets he had purchased almost three years ago, a brilliant sapphire blue which set off her eyes, her golden hair and her pale yet rosy skin. Her hair was still in the elaborate twist she had worn to the church which was a stunning contrast to the sensuality of the corset.
“Sweetheart, that corset! Wherever did you get it? I must have purchased them for the Paradise at least 3 years ago!” said John.
“It was so beautiful, I couldn’t resist buying it, even though I was a shop girl then, just arrived from Peebles. It’s been carefully lain away ever since. It seemed so foolish to wish for then but in some part of my mind, however silly it seemed, I hoped that someday you might see me in it.” she said softly, looking self consciously down at herself. “Would you help me with my hair?”
He strode behind the bench she sat on, until they were both looking in the mirror of the vanity table. He had briefly seen her in her plain white corset years ago as she modelled an ill-fitting dress for Katherine Glendennings but that was poor preparation for the vision in front of him. She was bare under the corset and only a thin pair of filmy drawers covered her legs to the knee. Her breasts strained at the top and he could see her almost bare legs curled on the little bench.
Although he so wanted to reach down and grasp her body now, he kept his composure and the eye contact in the mirror. His eyes were dark with desire and they would not let go of hers. She seemed unable to leave his gaze as his hands reached to pull the pins from her golden hair. One by one, he plucked them out until at last, the light hair tumbled over her shoulders, obscuring the curve of her chest from his view. Still holding her gaze with his, he shifted the curtain of her hair over her shoulders and pulled back slightly. She gasped in surprise and he bent to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He sank slowly to the floor, never losing his lip’s contact with her neck, trailing his body along her. His eyes were still open, watching her reaction to each move he made. She was losing herself, her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her neck and slid his hands to her clavicles to trace the bones that rose from her satiny flesh. Such an innocent thing, her collarbone, and yet it seemed that nothing had ever been as sensual to him. Wanting to feel more of her bare flesh, his fingers feathered down her soft arms, slender and yet charmingly dimpled at her elbows. Moving further downwards, he reached her hands which, frowning, he noted were clenched quite tightly.
Fighting to reign in his overwhelming passion, he stilled the kisses on her neck and gently worked to loosen her fists with his own fingers. “Denise, please open your eyes my love”.
Her blue eyes opened and met his in the mirror. She seemed to take his concern for disapproval and a crease formed between her eyebrows. “Yes?” Her voice was hardly a whisper.
“Sweetheart, I have wanted you for so very, very long. I have spent hundreds of hours imagining how you would feel and look in my arms on our wedding night. I want only to please you. I would never hurt you. I cannot bear it should I frighten you.” John whispered earnestly into her ear.
Denise’s face relaxed and a breath that John had not realised she was holding was exhaled. “Oh John, I am sorry. I admit, I am frightened but of course, not of you. I could never be. It is just…” Her voice trailed away and her eyes turned down, her spine curving inwards.
“What Sweetheart? What is it? What can I do” John felt inexplicably frantic; he was so desperate to put her at ease. So desperate to make love to her.
Denise drew herself up again and that little defiant blaze came into her eye. John recognised it as what always happened when Denise was faced with an unknown situation that she wanted to excel in; she steeled herself and determined to be successful. He smiled slightly, there was the Denise he loved!
“I do not want to disappoint you John. I do not know what to do or how to please you. I want to come to you and yet I feel so lost.”
“Oh my love, Denise, you could never, never disappoint me. We shall learn each other together. We have many, many years and we will start with tonight. Do you trust me?”
Denise turned slightly and pulled his face to hers, hands on either cheek. “Of course, I would trust you with anything John!”
John leaned forward and kissed her deeply, her soft lips parting to him. Her hands slid from his cheeks to his back and came around to his shirt collar. Her fingers began to tug at his necktie until it loosened and then unraveled. With a slight tremble, she began to unbutton his shirt, finally pushing it back and placing her hands on his chest.
He rose then, guiding her body with his. When they stood, he drew back, held his hand to her and offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She dropped her hand into his and let him lead her to the soft bed that stood in the center of the room. John sat on the edge of the mattress and drew her into the space between his knees, noting that her chest rose and fell rapidly but that her blue eyes were fixed on his and she looked uncertain but eager. He looked up at her lovely face and placed his hands on her waist, drawn in, impossibly small by the extravagant silk corset. John smiled softly, keeping his excitement at bay and then dropped his head to her decollate, nibbling on the swell above the corset’s top. From the curve of her hips, his hands ascended to the clasps and he deftly began to unfastened the closures. As her flesh emerged, he smothered each inch in soft kisses until the corset fell away, abandoned on the floor behind them.
Finally, he was free to lavish her breasts with the adoration he had so longed to give. They were topped with soft, pale pink nipples and more greedily than he wanted to admit, he drew one into this mouth. It was as if he was starving and this was the last food on earth. He tried to slow himself and yet, it was so perfect in his mouth, the nipple drawing up to a tight point that begged him to continue. He heard a low moan and his eyes flew open to Denise’s face. Her head lolled back as he suckled her and her fingers dug into his shoulders. He pulled off the right breast with a soft pop and moved to the left, his fingers gently teasing the nipple he had just abandoned.
As he continued, his left hand moved to the waist of her drawers, pulling the draw string and feeling them slip to the floor around her feet. That was it - she stood naked before him, utterly vulnerable and open to him. He smoothed his hands down her back and around the curve of her backside. Pulling his lips away from her breasts, he stood and shifted her gently onto her back on the bed. She looked bewitched by him, her eyes hazy.
He knelt and pulled her hips to the edge of the bed. Pushing up her legs by the knees, he felt her shocked gaze on him and he looked up at her. “Please my love, trust me. I want only to please you so very much. I want this and I think you will as well”. He ended his request with a dark smile that melted any reservation she had.
His hands pressed her knees apart and finally her most private parts were open to him. The soft tangle of golden brown hair beckoned him on and he used his fingers to part her. He was surprised to see the moisture glistening there but thrilled at her response to him. He used the fingers of his other hand to tease her clitoris and she bucked on the bed.
“John! What are you doing?”
“Shhhh, sweetheart, you will soon see. Please, let me show you how deeply I adore you, how good I want to make you feel.”
With his right hand still holding her open, he leaned forward and lapped at the little nub above her opening. He had never done this before but had heard of it in France and though shocked initially, had since dreamed of sharing his intimacy with his Denise over the last year and a half. He felt as if he was drowning in the essence of her, the musky taste of her on his lips, her soft moans filling his ears, her strong legs trembling on either side of his head, her fingers smoothing back his hair. He continued to swirl his tongue and lavish attention to her clitoris which had begun to stand out stoutly, the pink hood pushed back. His index finger slid slowly inside of her. She was tight but the pleasure he was giving her allowed him to move inside. He pumped into her, wanting to prepare her for himself. He continued moving his finger in and out while thrusting gently but firmly. As her sweet murmurs escalated, he added a second finger, stretching her while now placing his whole mouth on her, flicking back and forth, feeling the heavy pulse of her rapid heartbeat in her clitoris.
He was lost in her. Nothing existed but her on the bed before him and nothing mattered but bringing her sweet release. John did not believe that anything else had ever mattered more than pleasing Denise, giving her an experience that no one else would, or ever could, give her.
“John!” she gasped, “What… what are you doing? I can’t stop, please!”, and then her back arched as he plunged both fingers inside of her, delivering a final, strong pull of his lips to her. He looked up and swore her had never seen a more magnificent sight as her, back arched, breasts heaving with the nipples drawn hard and pink, her cheeks red and her lips parting as she panted his name.
He withdrew his hand and crawled up the bed to her, gathering her to him and laying her head in the crook of his neck, curling her limp form into his side and smoothing his hands over her back, down over her backside. He hitched her leg at the knee and pulled it over his hip.
He was silent, watching. He prayed she would not be embarrassed or think him crude for what he had just done. True to form, her eyes slowly opened and she looked at him with her wide blue gaze.
“John Moray, just where in heaven did you learn to do that?!” she demanded, her scottish brogue more pronounced in her shocked state.
“Ahh, my love, I’ve never done that before but I have dreamed of sharing it with you for so long. Was is all right?”
She did not reply but gave him a devious smile, a deep kiss and sat up. Her hands moved to his trousers which he realised were still on and fully fastened, although his cock strained at the front. She kneeled beside him and carefully unbuttoned his breeches, finally grasping the waist of them and his drawers and drawing them down over his legs. He was surprised by her sudden confidence and smiled to himself, watching her face as she took in his naked form. He was quite sure she had never seen all of a man before.
She had gotten to her feet while removing his trousers and now stared down at him, her eyes looking overwhelmed but resolute. And perhaps, he saw a hint of desire there? She stood silently, looking over his body until her gaze slid up to meet his own. John’s eyebrows raised slightly, as if to ask her assessment of his form and Denise burst into a tiny, nervous giggle.
“Oh John, I am sorry, I just do not know what to do. I feel so foolish, and yet I want so much to learn to touch you as you have touched me!”
He rose up to sitting, his legs hanging off the bed and drew her to him, guiding her legs to either side of his so that she was straddling him. His cock brushed against her and they both gasped; he could feel the moisture of her coat his member, causing it to slide easily along her flesh. He could not stop the groan that escaped him. His arms ran over her shoulders, down her arms and then he pulled her elbows towards the small of her back, causing her breasts to jut proudly, putting them in the perfect position to bestow them with his attention. He could not help but thrust up slightly and heard Denise’s gasp as his cock slipped firmly against her still swollen clitoris. Her sighs of pleasure were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard in his life and he tried to thrust just the same to make her repeat the sound. He turned his attention back to her pink nipples, suckling her, nipping, as her hands came up and buried themselves into the dark hair at the nape of his neck.
Suddenly, her hands pushed on his chest and he looked up, confused. Her mouth was set determinedly and she slid to her knees on the side of the bed.
It was almost too much, seeing her naked, her eyes shrouded in what he could only believe was lust, her chest heaving, her lips red and swollen from their kisses. It was at once wildly exciting to see her on her knees as if to serve his needs, her gaze shifting to his manhood but also it seemed somehow wrong to him. This magnificent woman that he cherished… he wanted to do unheard of things to her and yet she was so sweet, so pure, his desires seemed at odds.
She must have seen something flash across his face because she whispered “John, what it is? Did I do something wrong? What you did for me was so unbelievable, I only want to learn to do the same for you. Can you show me?”
“Oh my Denise, no nothing is wrong, you are just so beautiful and it feels like a dream that you are finally mine after so long. But you do not have to do this for me love.”
Her voice was resolute, “But John, I want to! The way you made me feel, it was like nothing I have ever felt, like falling but in the sweetest way, ending in the most magnificent landing. Please, show me!” Her blue eyes were endless and he knew he could not say no, both because he could never deny her but also because the thought of her soft mouth on him was irresistible.
He exhaled slowly, to gain some control and leaned back on his arms. “There is nothing to teach my love, my body longs only to feel your touch.”
She crawled forward so that she was between his knees and reached out, her delicate hand touching his cock. She instinctively curled her fingers around him and moved her fist up and down, slowly and gently. He moaned at the feel, but the sight as well, his sweet angel, grasping him in her hand, it was so base and yet he had longed to see just this picture for so many months. He had told himself that he only wanted to please her but that was a lie - he wanted her to touch him in ways he had never known before but only imagined.
Her right hand moved a little faster, up and down and her left moved to explore beneath before firmly grasping the base of his manhood. Suddenly, she leaned forward and lapped at the head of his cock with her pink tongue. His eyes, which had fluttered closed, popped open and met hers. “Was that alright John? What should I do?”
“Oh, my angel, that is just right… it feels so good.”
Her tongue swirled around the head again and then ran down his length, then back up. He could scarcely believe when she opened her sweet mouth and took him in, moving uncertainly up and down. His answering moans seemed embarrassingly loud and yet she was spurred on by his obvious pleasure and clutched the base a little firmer,moving her hot mouth up and down a bit more rapidly. His fingers tangled into her hair. It was all so overwhelming, the feelings she was creating, the unbelievable sight of her, his sweet, respectable, beautiful bride, naked, on her knees with his cock in her mouth. Without warning, she opened her eyes and looked up at her from under her lashes, all while keeping her lips on him. He almost spilled into her mouth.
Abruptly, he pulled her head back. He realised how close he was and he desperately wanted to take her, to fully seal their marriage. She looked up, unsure and he stroked her cheek. “That was the most erotic thing that has ever happened to me Denise. You are so perfect, so desirable. I just want to be able to make love with you the way a husband and wife should.” Her face relaxed and she smiled up at him.
He stood and pulled her to her feet, kissing her deeply. It seemed inconceivable that the taste of him on her lips could be so appealing. His mind spun at the fact that his bride seemed to meet every desire he himself harboured. Turning her towards the bed, he guided her down so her head was on the pillows, body flat. He paused to feast on the sight in front of him. Her form was slender as he knew it would be and yet so feminine, the swells of her breasts and her hips such a contrast from him own body. He thought to himself that no one would ever see her like this. This part of her was only for him. For so long in their relationship he had struggled to feel comfortable with her independence, her need to be a leader, her need to work in the world, giving herself away every day to her customers and her business - it was so different from most other women. He had grown to deeply love and cherish that unique side of her but it was a gift to him that he got to keep this one piece of her just for himself.
His reverie had allowed him to regain some control over his body and now he stretched beside Denise to touch her again. She smiled softly but then whispered “I’ve been told this part will hurt.”, her eyes clear but holding a note of consternation. He pulled back and answered “It may hurt, just a bit at the beginning but I will do everything I can to bring you pleasure. I will stop anytime you want”. She nodded and reached to pull his face to hers, kissing him.
While they kissed, he tried to slow down; it was not a race, he wanted to take his time to make sure she was ready. His hands lazily traced her chest, pinching each nipple softly, running feather light down her side. That brought a soft giggle from her and he smiled against her mouth to know that she was ticklish. Finally his hand came to the soft patch of hair and he spread her thighs slightly. His fingers found her as wet as before and it seemed almost magic to him, the way his fingers slid over her like over the finest silks. He teased the firm button above her entrance, softly at first and then growing more demanding as her sighs became more frequent, her kisses wilder on his mouth. Continuing to stroke her with his thumb, his middle finger slid inside of her and she gasped, her body clamping down slightly.
“Relax love, I will not hurt you.” he whispered.
She nodded, her brow furrowed in what he believed was concentration on her pleasure. He continued his ministrations until he knew he could add his index finger to the first. Again, her body spasmed around his hand but her moans deepened and he continued flicking her clitoris as her leaned his head down to lap at her breasts.
Her breathing was growing more erratic; she was close. He rose to his knees and crawled between her legs, keeping his fingers dancing.
“Fall for me Sweetheart, I want to watch you, I want to see you fall apart for me, only me” John whispered.
That pushed her over the edge and her body clamped down, her head thrown back again, her scrambling hands trying to find purchase on his shoulders. Before her climax had ended, he was pushing himself slowly into her, hoping that her resounding pleasure would help her accept him.
Her eyes opened and grew larger at the new sensation, so much wider than his fingers had been. All John wanted to do was push himself straight into her and begin thrusting as hard as he could but he could not do that to Denise. He kept an endless chant of “gentle, gentle, gentle…” running through his mind. Her brow was creased and her mouth tight. He held still and ran his hands over her face, calling her back to him.
“Denise, talk to me, are you all right? I don’t want to hurt you.”
She made an effort to smile at him and answered “I’m alright John, it is sore but not unbearable”.
“Oh my love, we can do better than that, don’t you think?”, he asked as his deep, chocolate eyes bore into her, a dark smile shadowing across his lips. He stilled his press into her and leaned back so that he was on his knees and her pelvis was raised up against his thighs. Starting at her shoulders, he drew his fingers down her body, until they once again found their way to just above where his body joined with her. The silky moisture was still thick there and John’s fingers quickly began to circle her most sensitive spot. He used his finger to smooth the hood back from her clitoris and his thumb and a second finger pinched the bundle of nerves lightly together. Her sharp intake of breath and disoriented eyes told him to continue and he did, drawing more of the liquid from where they joined up to smooth his passage over her flesh. As he continued, her body began to rock towards him, forcing her down onto him, slowly, so agonisingly slowly. He gritted his teeth and tried to think only of her, not of the sensations that were flooding his body, how soft she was around him, how sweetly tight and hot. Nothing had ever felt more right and he just wanted more, more, more.
Finally, he was seated all the way inside of her and he stilled his fingers, reaching for her hands which he held onto as he leaned forward to kiss her lush mouth. Her breath was coming in pants, the combination of pleasure with the slight edge of pain, intoxicating her. She was dazzling to watch and he knew this was the most beautiful sight he would ever see.
He drew himself partially out and carefully pressed back into her while he buried his face in her neck and listened to her panting out his name. He continued moving in and out while her body opened to him and he slid more easily, no longer feeling her resist his advance.
He knew he could not last much longer and he wanted to be watching her when he came. Rolling her gently as he could, he turned on his back, ending with her straddling his body. Her eyes grew wide as the new position forced him even deeper into her. She looked down at him, seeming unsure but willing. He took her hands and reached up, placing them on the edge of the high headboard. Her golden hair made a curtain around them, creating a little world just for them, just for this moment. John’s hands found their way to her hips and he lifted slightly and then pushed back down so that she was thrusting her body onto his. After a moment of his guidance, she found her own rhythm, using the headboard for leverage to rise up and down. His hands stayed at her waist, and his gaze stayed on her face. She looked down at him, their eyes locked. Neither could look away. Her hands reached to grasp his and she pinned them next to either side of his head. He was at her mercy and he was captivated by the sight of her, taking what she desired from his body. Denise continued her slow rise and fall, gasping each time she sank down, whether from pleasure or pain, he was not sure. He was frozen in entrancement. The moments passed and she began to quicken, her eyes growing more wild until a tear began to trail down one cheek. At that, he wrestled his hands free, sat up, bending his knees so that her haunches rested on his thighs and placed a palm on either side of her face.
“Denise, I love you. I will always love you. You are mine and I am yours, always. I am here, I am with you.” His thumb wiped the tear away.
He was still inside her and she moved, kissing him desperately. He was so close… he wanted her with him. One hand moved to where they were joined and he stroked her, urging her first with his passionate kisses, then with his whispered words in her ear, “Denise, my love, sweetheart, please, I cannot last, please, please…”
The soft keening noise she made and the trembling that wracked her body sent him flying over the edge. Light seemed to burst behind his eyelids as he felt his seed streaming into her and she fell against him.
She seemed drunk as he gently pulled himself from her and lay her against the feather bed. He curled his body around her and their hands clasped against the curve of her belly. Denise’s other hand reached back and grasped the back of his head, stroking his neck while he placed soft kisses along her shoulder. They lay silent for a moment.
“Sweetheart,” John began quietly, “Why did you cry just then? Did I hurt you?”
She took a breath and turned in his arms so she could see him. “No, no, of course not. It is a bit sore now but I will be fine. You were so sweet and gentle. No, it’s not that.” Her eyes turned shy and she looked down.
“What is it Denise?, please tell me. If I did something wrong, I want to make it right.”
“It was just all so much. I have wanted to be your wife for such a long time and I finally am. I have wanted to share your bed but I was afraid too. Women talk together… they make it sound so rough and painful. I felt like every women I know was warning me that the wedding night would be a trial to endure and that you would care only for your own pleasure. I did not want to believe that you would be like that to me. And I was right to believe that you would be different. I just love you so much John. I cried because I am happy, that is all.”
John smiled softly, exhausted but exultant. He pulled her back against him, her backside burrowing against his hips. “Sleep now love. We have all our lives together. We shall start again tomorrow. You have made me the happiest man on all the earth.” With a chaste kiss to her shoulder, his eyes closed, drifting off to dream only of her.