Chapter Twenty-One
He looked at her with greedy anticipation, but his words brought cautious discipline. "I want this to be good for you, Sarah. I know for a woman-"
She touched his mouth with a finger. "Shush, my love. I know you will be kind and gentle."
"That's the damn thing, Sarah," he said in a burst. "I don't want to be gentle."
She laughed, a smile on her face. "Then," she said, giving him a sweet kiss, "Don't be."
He still restrained, holding his body over hers, braced on his arms. She tried to pull him down, to feel his body weight on top of her, an immediate gratification, but he persisted.
She said, coaxing, "Lay on me. I want to feel you."
Emboldened, when she had been taught to be shy, reticent. There was nothing shy about her now; her body was wanton, and he craved every inch of it. He planned to touch and kiss and suck on every part of her. Nothing off limits, unless she gave him action or word to back away, he would teach her the best way he knew how.
Their love; it would be so good. It was up to him to pleasure her, as she already given him everything. He was ready for the tantalizing challenge; she was more than any woman before her, had ever been. Sarah, his queen, his great love.
He nuzzled her skin with his nose, brushing her soft flesh with his hot, coaxing, passionate mouth. Each kiss was a prayer. Each touch an epiphany. He wanted, suddenly, to burst into tears by the staggering realization that this woman loved him. He shook his head, and the impulse away.
His past haunted him. He had been made a warrior after all, and hunting to kill, his only merit. But he would do everything in his power to prove to her that he was worthy. Never enough-
"Until I met you..." He whispered into her ear, and she gave him that soft smile he adored. She wiggled deliciously under him as his hand ran down her side, skimming her heavy-weighted breast. He promised her again and again, with each stroke. With purpose he cupped her breast, laving her nipple with his tongue and suckling, rounding his fingers around her to squeeze and press until she sighed in bliss. Soft at first, then with a needy force as she gasped in lustful response. He groaned, lowering himself, just enough to entice them both, onto her waiting body.
Her breathing quickened, and he smiled in secret pleasure. He would bring that to a crescendo, make her scream, make her arch and moan. He knew how to pleasure, but this time it was all for her. His love, the woman who would be his wife as he took that prized virginity she gifted to him.
"Sarah," he breathed, inhaling her unique scent, jasmine and vanilla. He ran his tongue across her skin, his tongue tasting her goodness. Each lick, each stroke, whispered a story. Their new story, one he wanted to last forever. Not long at all.
"Please..." She twisted in an agony that only love could bring. "Please, Jareth..." She begged and he smiled into the crook of her neck as he rubbed himself against her, pressing to relieve the intense pressure inside. She tipped her hips up and met his body, and he grabbed her, holding her still. Just one moment- He caught his breath and shifted into a safer position.
"Tell me, Sarah..." He lingered on her name and his voice made her gasp. Lick, kiss, lick. "What do you want?" He crooned to her, a song of redemption, a whisper of shared need.
"More..." Her body gave that sweet and tantalizing wiggle again, and his body pulsed.
"I'll give you anything you need," Jareth promised, and he moved his fingers down her skin, reaching her sweet core. He cupped her, and she was wet. Oh, by the Unknown, so very wet. He groaned and she sucked in a hissed breath. He grew to know her body as he knew his very own, and he would worship her the only way he knew how.
His gift: her pleasure. He wanted to make it last and last and last, but each arch, every movement of her under him, brought his control to a swifter end.
She touched him, wrapping her fingers around him in sexy, sweet innocence, and he almost finished. His head threw back in an ecstasy he had never felt with any other woman. His eyes screwed tight, and he sucked in blessed air. Breathe. Breathe.
"Jareth," she said, a smile of satisfaction on her face. She knew, she knew, the minx. He kissed her with all the love, all the pent-up desire, he had. His body trembled. If she touched him there again, he would spew into her fingers. Gently, discreetly, he moved her hand away from the most responsive part of him.
She pouted. How he loved that pout! He fingered her warmth again, dipping into the moist flesh. He circled her sensitive bud, lightly and then, as she gasped, a greater pressure.
"You like that, don't you?" he grunted. He was so near. He must be patient. She wasn't quite ready…
"Yes..." She hissed, an exclamation that fired him. With a gentle force, he spread her legs for him. She instinctively pressed them together for an instant, and he soothed her, raining kisses upon her face, her neck, her breasts.
"Let me..." He lowered his mouth on her body with each kiss. "Let me kiss you...Let me taste you..."
She gasped as his mouth reached her, intimately, suckling her tight little bud and drawing her wetness onto his tongue. So sweet, better than chocolate, better than anything…
He groaned, and the vibration of his mouth, as he knew it would, made her give a small scream. She pulled at his hair and he smiled. He brought her hips upward to meet him, sucking, licking the sweet goodness of her, humming into her flesh. She clenched her thighs about his head, and he licked some more.
She was close.
He felt her muscles tense and throb about his fingers as he inserted them in an erratic, teasing pattern inside her. One knuckle, two, until his fingers sunk fully into her, stretching her, making her ready for him. He brought the rhythm to a steady stroke. She whimpered. Her skin was moist from arousal, and her flesh glowed with perspiration that meant he was doing it just right. Her eyes watched him, mossy brightness that shined with her passion and love.
She arched up, against his fingers. With smooth seduction, he slid his body up along hers until her breasts rubbed his chest. He kissed her neck, mimicking with his tongue, the fingers that stroked inside and along her flesh. Marking her with a sharp nip of his teeth on her flesh, then laving the pain away. He lowered himself again, burying his mouth where he knew she liked it best.
"Come for me, Sarah. Come on for me..." Jareth brought another finger into her depth. Two—so wet, enough to slip in a knuckle of a third. She panted. He held his breath, forcing his own panting to slow. He had to last, just a little while longer…
"Jareth, I want..." Her breath was fast, and he felt her start to contract about his fingers, against his lips that he brushed back and forth against her, lifting and teasing until he knew she wouldn't last another full minute.
"What do you want, precious?"
He would bring her to the pleasurable pain that she craved, that she had never known with any man. She was so close, he felt it. He thrust his fingers into her, over and over and over, a mockery of the motion he would soon give with that very aching part of him.
He lifted his mouth enough to brush his chin against her curls, up against the top of her apex. Pressing there. The motion sent her into a high arch.
He knew, he knew, and he gave it all to her. Sarah was close, but she held back. Jareth felt her last maidenly restraint give way. He nipped her, gentle but firm, on the most sensitive part of her flesh, tugging with his lips and teasing lightly with his teeth.
And she screamed. Screamed and came with glorious pulsing, all around his fingers, wet with her climax. He licked until the last convulsion ended. His chin wet, his fingers soaked. He looked at her, making her look at him, and he tasted her wetness on his fingers. Her skin flushed even brighter.
"Touch me, Sarah," Jareth moaned, and he brought her hand to him. He had to have her, he had to…
She touched him, her fingers moving up and down on him, an instinctual grace. She cupped his balls, and they were so tight he knew he wouldn't last long. His head threw back and his eyes squeezed tight. He took her hand away, kissing her palm as he slowed his breathing, stilling the rapid staccato. He must sustain. He must-
She whispered into his ear. "Am I yours?"
"Yes!"
He moaned loud, calling her name out, and she smiled. He couldn't take it. "Fuck, Sarah, touch me again." He showed her the rhythm he liked, but it soon became too much. He had to have her, thrust deep inside and come and come and come until he had nothing left. He looked at her and she panted her acceptance. She was arching under him again, his pleasure making her hot and wanting.
He guided himself to her, the center of her wetness, and he rubbed his tip against her flesh. Slow, meticulously slow. She grabbed his hips, pulling him closer until he was able to push the tip of him into her. He took one of her hands, pulling it above her head and holding it there, their fingers intertwined. The position made her back arch up. Perfect...
"You feel so good..." He moaned and he almost lost it at the moment. One inch and he felt done for. He wanted everything, her all. His face pressed into her neck and he gave kiss after kiss in the crook of her skin. He paused. Another inch. By the Unknown, she was killing him!
Her flesh expanded and hugged him, the pulsing in her driving him mad. Slow, he commanded, slow. She was wet, but new, and he restrained his motion, giving her inch by inch of him until she could fully accept his girth and length.
For a moment he felt fear. He had always been proud of his size but now maybe, maybe he was too much. He looked at her, but she nodded and arched, making him move deeper into her. His balls throbbed.
"Jareth!" She pulled him, tighter, closer.
"I can't. Wait." He gasped.
He pulled out, slow enough to make him groan with the sensation. He looked at her again. Testing her. She wiggled and he was undone. He pulled back to his tip and then thrust. She moaned. Thrust. His panting heightened. She wiggled him into her deeper, her hips arching to meet him. Thrust. Oh, the exquisite pain and the pleasure!
Her flesh throbbed and pulsed. She was going to come again, and he felt a glorified gratification, a purely male one. She impressed him, his kitten. He knew few women that found their release in the act that made him shudder with such intensity. He pulled out, slow, to the very tip. She gasped and he smiled. Wait, wait, oh but she was so tight around him…
"Sarah!"
He thrust again into the depth of her, the base of his cock rubbing her sensitive flesh. Her climax, strong enough to throw her head back, drove him to his near finish. Almost. Almost-
Flesh against flesh, hurriedly paced. One two push deep. Deeper. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't-
He jerked, convulsed against her softer body, spewing and spewing, thrusting and thrusting. That final push, and he caught his breath. Drained. Completed.
She stroked his hair, even as she pulled at it. She panted and then gasped. Though he had finished before she fully completed her second climax, he continued to move, to gyrate his hips slow and circular, as she convulsed about him, her orgasm still giving her waves of pleasure that rode on and on. His cock was softening inside her, but it still felt so good. She felt so good. He lay on her, not able to move. Not able to catch breath. Not wanting to let go.
Virgin no longer. Now, a wife. He kissed her with gratitude. Kiss, kiss, her skin damp and sweet.
"I love you, my Sarah."
His kiss gave his promise. He would never leave her. She would be his queen, rightly by his side. His wife, one he would never let go.
He drew her into an embrace, and they lay, breath slowing. Pulses going back to normal. Hearts swelling. Sarah snuggled to his side. She was perfection. And his, all his. She had already claimed him, and for the first honest time in his life, he was ready to be fully claimed.