I'm going to take a phrase from HDKingsbury, MadLizzy, and JaxBoo and call this Rated N for Naughty! Feedback is appreciated. Thanks!

Paladin113

Sophia never had a moment to catch her breath, but she didn't complain. Each second filled her with exquisite new sensations that started from her lips and moved down her body.

They kissed harder, tongues pressing, searching, kneading each other in a fervent, sensual dance like nothing she'd ever experienced. Her head tilted to the side, the bump that had rendered her senseless now forgotten. Pain no longer throbbed through her temples. In her range of emotion, she didn't have room for pain. All she wanted to experience was Erik.

His broad hand started at her neck, rubbing her covered flesh, his touch hot and urgent over her shoulder. She closed her eyes as the dizzying assault on her sanity continued, this time in the form of his knuckles brushing the curve of her breast. She knew what she wanted, but didn't know how to ask him to touch the hardened, waiting peak.

At last he caressed her, an accidental flick of his thumb over hardened flesh. She half-moaned, half-sighed against his lips, and he kissed her harder, one hand snaking around her back to smash her against him.

"Oh, Sophia," he whispered, his voice harsh, deep, and alluring.

Her movements mirrored his, the electricity between them frantic with unexplainable need. She groped his arm, allowed her fingers to explore the hard, hot surface of his chest through his lawn shirt. An awkward moment of searching finally led her to the small, flat disc.

He shivered, his nipple instantly hardening to her touch. At last he gave her what she truly needed in that moment and circled the hardened tip through her clothing, the layers adding to the much-desired friction.

"I need to touch you," he breathed, his lips against her throat. "Really touch you."

Fingers skimmed hot, smooth flesh, then a patch of thick hair as she explored lower. Another button came loose, and she dipped lower until her fingers tangled in coarse chest hair.

As she touched him, he opened the back of her dress and kissed her newly exposed shoulder. Hot, moist lips created a soft trail down her sensitive flesh. She raised a hand and stroked his hair, her head tilted back in a moment of pure enjoyment. He sucked at her collarbone, licked at her throat in fiery, firm strokes.

Breaths came harder, accompanied by soft whispers and moans. She couldn't tell if they were her moans or his, but she hoped they came from both of them. His lips touched low on her neck, and she realized that he'd managed to untie her laced-up corset and draw her breast nearly from its confinement.

She glanced down at his thick fingers, dark against the pinkish white of her chest. A rush tingled through her, the tremble in her hands increasing as she gently pulled on his hair, unsure if they should continue.

"You feel like silk," he murmured. "Warm, living silk."

She knew he wasn't ready to stop, not here, not now. And neither was she.

-o-

Want became need. He didn't want to touch her, he needed to touch her, with his fingers, with his lips, with his tongue. His hands trembled with the desire to caress her throat, cup her breast in his palm.

"Tell me no, Sophia, if you want me to stop. Tell me and I will…obey."

Her breath, hot and ragged, tickled his ear, her tongue flicking out to touch him as she sighed. "Don't stop, not yet."

With her permission, he fumbled to pull the laces of her bodice free and touch his lips to her breasts. It excited him to think of kissing her there, rolling his tongue along her nipples, sucking on her flesh. Fabric ripped against his strong hands and they both stilled, the only sound in the room their harsh breathing. Erik found himself shocked by his aggression until she giggled, her voice gentle music in his ear.

"I'll fix it later," she whispered, her lips against his, her fingers working deftly to undo each button. She yanked at his shirt until it came free of his trousers, then she smoothed her hand down his chest to his belly, fingers sinking into the dusting of hair that fanned across his stomach. She paused inches above his navel, seemingly miles from where he throbbed for her attention.

"Ah." Sophia mewed, her back arched as he cupped the fullness of her breast. She fit into the palm of his hand, her nipple hard as it stabbed against his flesh. He'd never felt anything quite like it before, so perfect and…natural, as though this were exactly where a man and woman belonged.

Slowly they reclined, her hands exploring his torso. Fingernails grazed his sides, fingertips pressed to his ribs and his hardened nipples, which reacted immediately to her touch. Barely confined within his trousers, he grew harder for her, impossibly hard and prepared for the slightest of touches.

They landed softly on the bed together, entwined and tangled in a knot neither of them wished to escape. Mouths touched, tongues searched, hands explored bare flesh. He kissed her deeply, capturing soft moans that turned louder and more urgent with each circle his finger made around her nipple.

His head dipped lower, tearing his lips from hers and kissing down her throat and chest until he reached the swell of her breast and the dark pink point, hard and waiting for his mouth. As he kissed her there, he listened to her breaths come faster, louder, more excited. He reached for her hand and silently encouraged her to unbutton his trousers.

-o-

My God, he was hard as stone through the rough wool of his trousers. Sophia didn't know where to focus her attention: On her own throbbing body or the appendage she couldn't see but could feel—and hear through his groans—that he wanted her to touch him.

"I—I don't know what to do," she murmured.

Pleasure radiated from her nipple, which he'd caught between his teeth, and continued to pulse through her abdomen. Her toes curled, thighs squeezed together against the growing tension she couldn't and didn't want to stop.

With trembling hands she fumbled with the first button and heard it pop open. Erik's hips thrust forward, pushing her fingers against flesh she still couldn't see, only feel through his clothing.

He nipped, sucked and licked at her flesh in a rhythm that matched her harsh breaths. Before she realized what was happening, the pressure in her lower abdomen exploded and stole the breath from her lungs. She gasped, writhed against his touch as he caressed her face, traced her lips with a single finger, tugged at her sensitive, throbbing flesh with his lips and tongue.

"Oh," she gasped. "Oh, I don't know what I just…" She swallowed hard, her body now boneless and sated, her heart beating wildly. She thought she'd pass out from the sheer thrill of it, this unexplainable phenomena.

Erik looked up at her, his lips just below her swollen, damp nipple—damp with his saliva, with the mixture of their tongues now flavoring her breast. "Have you ever…felt this before?" he asked.

She shook her head, embarrassed by the way her exposed body looked, by how it had reacted to his touch. Fear crept into her, and she wondered what he thought of her until he smiled and kissed her tenderly, nuzzling and rubbing at her breast. His eyes remained heavily lidded as he stared up at her.

"It's called climax," she said, having read it in her book, which had been shoved aside in their urgency.

"The first," he said, a sense of pride in his voice. "Of many I wish to give you."

She blinked at him. "Have you…? You haven't climaxed, have you?"

He kissed her fingers and crawled up her body until his lips fit over hers and his tongue pushed past her teeth and stroked hers. She felt him hard against her belly, heard the rasp of his breath as he murmured between kisses, and quietly invited her to touch him, all of him. He swore he wouldn't claim her virginity, that he would only do as she asked him.

"How do I touch you?" The buttons came free, one after the other. "Show me how."

"Like this, sweet Sophia." His fingers closed over hers and guided her into his trousers, where she startled at the feel of him. Their eyes met as he wrapped her fingers around his girth and she stroked him as he guided her up and down, a steady, urgent rhythm.

"There," he said in her ear, reclining. His eyes closed and he swallowed hard, breath hissing past his teeth. "Yes, right there, just like that. Yes, like that."

Sophia sat partially up and watched him, all of him. She studied how his face contorted with each swift stroke, how his back arched and hips worked with her movements. She marveled at the feel of his flesh in her hand, at the heat of him, at the unexpected softness of skin stretched taut. Thankfully, he wasn't the length of the book's spine. She knew for certain she would have fainted if he'd been twelve inches in length, but she didn't think he fell short by much. It didn't matter to her. It excited her again merely to feel him and see him, the flesh and blood which the book hadn't quite explained.

It hadn't mentioned smell, either, but she inhaled the scent of their mixed arousal, the perfume of one body sated and another on the brink of completion. She sucked in deep breaths, filled her lungs, her senses, with their sex, with their need.

"I'm not hurting you?" she questioned as he encouraged her to pump him faster, harder than she'd originally done.

He shook his head, a smile curving his lips upward.

Springy, dark hair surrounded the base of his length, which she found unexpected. The book hadn't mentioned hair or the dark, plum-colored appearance of the head, or how the shaft wrinkled slightly with each stroke.

"Oh," he groaned, eyes tightly squeezed shut. His hips lifted, drawing her hand down to the root hidden beneath a thatch of hair, then back to the crown. He placed his hand on her thigh, rubbed her firmly, urgently. His fingers crept beneath her skirts, caressed her ankle, her shin…

Her knees parted, allowed him to feel the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. She realized, half-embarrassed, half-mesmerized, that dampness pooled between her legs, and the ache that had exploded only moments ago built once more.

"We can't go much further," she whispered, hating the sound of her voice, the interruption of their experience.

He nodded reluctantly, his eyes remaining closed. "I know."

His hips worked faster and his hand paused on the middle of her thigh. His chest ceased to rise and fall rapidly, his muscles tensed, and to her surprise, hot, thick liquid spurted from him. He groaned, the thrust of his hips coming to a halt, his body caught in the same harsh spasms she'd experienced only moments earlier.

With his hand against her back, he pulled her toward him and kissed her again, hard and welcomed. Sweat made his forehead slick, his hair damp as she ran her fingers through it. Her eyes closed, and she savored the feel of him, the first man she'd ever touched and been touched by. No matter what Karl Turro had done, she would always consider Erik Belmont her first sexual companion—her lover. Such contrast between soft lips and hardened sex, such beauty between them. She didn't want to let him go, to end one perfect moment of flesh on flesh, heart beat against heart beat.

Slowly her eyes opened and she found him studying her face. He looked different to her, perhaps more relaxed.

"We are complete," he panted.

She smiled, and he kissed her again.