Page 135 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“Are you reading or staring at my penis?”Always calling me out.
“Reading,” I replied, scattering my thoughts away from the wiener between his thighs.
Nodding at my Kindle, hands crossed just above his pecker, he asked, “Is that right? Then why is it closed?”
I looked at my Kindle to see the top covering the screen. Huffing, I scoffed, “Mind your own business while I verify positions.”
The creak of the chair in the room clued me in to his slouching and attempt to get comfortable. From the corner of my eye, I could see his legs spread, and his boner touching his six-pack with ease.I really am a lucky, lucky girl.
Pushing back the sigh that wanted to escape, I returned to my Kindle and opened it up toWarning Trackby one of my favorite authors. There was a scene I read the other day where Jane, the main character, got it on with the oh-so-handsome Brady Matthews in a chair that just so happened to be in a baseball stadium. Who doesn’t like a hot sports romance? The author called the sex position The Titanic because at one point, Jane lifts her arms in the air, giving all her trust over to Brady while he maneuvered in and out of her. The minute I read the scene, I knew I had to try it with Henry.
Holding my Kindle in one hand, I scooted closer to Henry and positioned his feet so they were flat on the floor. “You have to be a sturdy foundation for us. Keep these feet glued to the floor, especially since we are on a spinny chair.”
With teasing eyebrows, Henry said, “I love it when you take charge in the bedroom.”
“This is serious!” I stomped my foot. “Get your sexy face on and stop joking. It’s time to make love.”
Henry held up his hands in defense. “Oh, excuse me, mistress.”
Pointing my finger at him, I said, “Don’t call me that. Now sit up. Look alive.” I looked down at his crotch and tapped it. “Come on fella, perk up.”
“I’m going to stop you right there, love. For the love of God, do not call my penis ‘fella.’ It’s not going to do much for motivation.”
“Sorry.” Straitening up, I quickly scanned the scene in the book and then proceeded to walk us through the steps. “I’m going to sit on you, and you are going to have to hold on to my hips, balancing me. Can you handle that?”
“You insult me with your questions. Of course I can handle that.”
Smiling gratefully at the most handsome man I’ve ever known, I backed my caboose onto his lap, shifting just enough to cause a little friction between us.
“Uh, am I supposed to be inside of you? Or are you going to dry-hump my log?” Naturally he was completely amused with this entire situation.
“Oh, um, inside me. Just stick it in there.”
A low rumble vibrated through Henry’s chest. “If you want it, you’re going to have to work for it. Put the Kindle down, grab hold of me, and fuck me, Rosie.”
A chill ran up my spine from his deep voice whispering across my back. Goosebumps scattered across my skin, causing me to obey his wishes. Putting the Kindle on the floor in front of me, and reaching behind me where I felt his length against my hand, I granted his wish.
From where he rested, I could feel the quick intake of breath as my hand connected with his arousal. His taut stomach flexed under my contact, and his hands slowly slid down from my hips to my thighs where he gripped them hard as I barely lifted up, just enough to slip him in.
Shifting my hips, I pushed against him, so he was completely inserted. I took a deep breath and then started to move my hips, but only ever so slightly. I wanted to feel his girth, but I didn’t want to forget the task at hand.
“Are we doing The Titanic?” Henry asked, pulling me into his chest so he could look over my shoulder.
“Not quite,” I breathed heavily, moving with him.
“Well, I’m satisfied with whatever this is.” His hands ran up my stomach, grazing my skin softly until he found my breasts. Cupping them, he kissed the side of my neck and continued to move his hips.
His fingers played with my nipples, tantalizing them to small little peaks, and lost in the moment, my mind went blank. It wasn’t until Henry groaned in my ear that I was brought back to what I was trying to accomplish.
“As good as this feels, this isn’t The Titanic.” I sat up, and pushed down on Henry’s lap, causing another groan to come from his chest.
“Easy, love.”
“Listen up. If we are going to do this, we’re going to do this right. Grab hold of my hips and plant your feet on the ground, so I can hook my feet around them.”
“Okay,” Henry said skeptically, shifting beneath me.
Once in position, I wrapped my feet around his calves and steadied myself. “Make sure you have a good grip on me.” He obliged, and when I felt secure, I lifted my hands up into the air, spreading to my full wingspan. Channeling Kate Winslet, I pushed my head back, stuck my nips out, and tried to feel the “breeze” in my face, aka the fan I set up beforehand.
