It didn’t hurt. It felt...strange, but that was better than the pain. “Breathe,” he told her, in that bossy way of his that shouldn’t have made something ignite inside her. But she did it anyway. She pulled in a deep breath and let it out, and still he moved inside her. Lazy. Relaxed. An easy sort of rocking. Slowly, almost despite herself, Kathryn began to anticipate him. She met him when he thrust in, moving her hips in a way that made a low, shimmering thing dance inside her. His mouth curved, and she thought that later—much later—she would have to examine why it was that it made her flush with so much pleasure. He maintained that same lazy pace, and let his hands wander where they pleased. He smoothed his way up her back. He tested the thrust of her breasts through the dress that was still bunched around her waist. He reached beneath it and drew patterns on the soft skin of her belly, on the outsides of her thighs.
What do You think about Castelli's Virgin Widow (2015)?
