Obeying the order, she found him standing between her legs, unbuttoning his shirt while he held her eyes. While he took his measured time removing one item of clothing after another, exposing brawn, defined abs, a body that would have graced GQ pre-bombs.
Hair on his chest, strong laborer’s body, southern aristocracy. Cocky, because he was born to it. And he did have an unusually large penis.
One that, frankly, made her a bit nervous.
A hard cock that pulsed with the beats of his heart as it grew even larger. Foreskin drawn back, that delectable ridge running along the bottom.
“No one is going to want to fuck me after that rips me in half.” And it was going to hurt. And there was a mental quota that didn’t have time for recovery nights. “Hellen can keep her tickets.”
He laughed when she tried and failed, again, to crawl away. “I know it’s a bit daunting, but considering your medical training, I’m fairly certain you grasp that the vaginal canal was designed to stretch.”
“For babies, not for massive, freakish cocks!”
It didn’t look like he intended to argue anymore, creeping over her to plant a kiss right on her mouth.
“Aaron! Kissing is not allowed!”
Not that her swallowed complaints stopped him from dipping his tongue into her open mouth. Just like the secret lovers who kissed in dark halls on a boat where rules lead to misery and misery led to survival. Languid and keen, he drank her down no matter her lack of reciprocation. Nipping her bottom lip before kissing her jaw.
Holding her still by the roots of her red hair.
Getting his money’s worth as he took every last taste.
“Kiss me, Eugenia.”
If it would end this sooner, then fine. She kissed him.
And he groaned, settling further against her body, and began to nudge his knee so she might spread hers. Which was the point, right?
So she threw her all into that kiss, taking in equal parts to what he gave. Letting his tongue play over hers, allowing the invasion as his chest hair tickled her nipples.
Always the mind reader, he abandoned her mouth to suck a pink tip into his mouth. A bit too hard—absolutely perfect. Nipping and sucking and all tongue. One, then the other. Kneading heavy breasts, pressing and pulling flesh in a way that stole her senses.
Then that wicked mouth traveled down her stomach. Until he was kneeling between her legs and she was spread wide before him. Gripping her hips, he pulled her straight to his mouth.
And she got to experience the tongue thing. And, Jesus, it really was something worth bragging over.
Sore fingers fisting his covers, dying inside because it felt so good, Eugenia locked her thighs around his face and took.
When he entered her with two fingers, she tensed, then survived a full-body shudder when he curled them upward and found a place inside her no other ever had. Growing rougher with that come-hither motion, what should have hurt was the exact opposite. She didn’t even need that masterful tongue on her clit.
She came, drenching his hand, and fairly certain she was an inch away from the afterlife.
It went on and on as he did things no southern gentleman should. A pirate until she begged him to stop and he still refused.
Orgasms shouldn’t last so long. And no lady should saturate the coverlet while a pirate ate her alive.
In a daze, she caught the way he let a string of spit leave his mouth to coat the overlarge cock he worked in his hand. Registered that he had crept over her body to position himself to take what she had preserved—the only symbol of who she had been before bombs fell and the world grew poisoned.
The last piece of her.
A simple hole where the first penis ever was slowly pushing forward, breaching a place that should not have mattered anymore.
But did. She felt the loss of so much when pain snapped her out of despair.
A burning sting washing away unattainable history, dragging her mentally kicking to the present.
“Relax.” How softly he said it for a man that was so hard. “There you go. A little more. You can take me. I promise.”