Page 102 of The Favourite

“Excellent.” He gave a hard buck of his hips and began to slide into her tight, slick channel. He grunted so loud with the relief of it, that he almost drowned out her own moan. “Ughh, Jane,” he groaned. “What would your aunt say?”

“We—we won’t tell her,” she wheezed, and oh my gods, he felt her push back against him. She wanted more. She wanted harder. Of course, that meant he had to do just the opposite.

“I shall be very gentle, my dove,” he vowed. “I would hate to overwhelm you with the lewdness of this position.”

Jane was silent a moment as he tested his own patience with only the shallowest and lightest of dips against the fullness of her backside. Of course, this meant he would last longer inside her, he consoled himself. He watched Jane clutch and twist the bedsheets beneath her hands.

“Oh,” she panted, moving more firmly against him. Almost briskly, one might say.

“Jane,” he said warningly, “don’t you dare.” He narrowed his eyes, feeling her sheath start to flutter and clench around his cock.

“Ohhh,” she sobbed softly, her head dropping down. “Oh, I can’t—I can’t stop!”

“Are you even trying?” he asked silkily as her sweet cunt tightened its grip on him until she had him biting back an urge to moan of his own. He ought to pull out. That would serve her right, but he did not quite have that much self-control. His dick would likely fall off in disappointment if he did that, in any case.

“You bad girl,” he said in awe as Jane went tense and shuddered all around him. “Oh, you bad, bad girl.” But he could not keep the note of approval from his voice. He did not sound remotely displeased. Jane sobbed through her release as he rubbed his hand up and down her spine.

All that pleasure, just from having him inside her, he marveled. He was impressed as hell with himself that he had not snapped and spilled deep within her by this point. Once her breathing had evened out and she stopped shuddering, he asked, solicitously, “All better now?”

Jane nodded, a catch in her voice. “Yes.”

He tutted. “Really Jane, I wanted us to peak together.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she breathed out unevenly.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said kindly. “But I am going to punish you now.”

“Punish me?” Jane’s head snapped up. “But—”

“Yes, and in order to make it up to me, we are going to try another of those wicked positions.”

Jane made a stifled noise as he pulled out of her and then flipped her over onto her back. She blinked up at him a moment before he seized the back of her knees and pushed them over her shoulders, pinning them to the mattress.

He had to bite his lip. “Fuck, Jane, if you could see yourself …”

“See myself?” she exclaimed. “I can hardly—” She broke off as he nestled the fat tip of his cock between her swollen folds. They were so wet and juicy now; he could not help but groan with pleasure.

“My cock wants to come inside, Jane,” he rasped crudely. “Tell him, he’s welcome.”

Jane’s expression wavered, her desperate eyes searching his face. She looked thoroughly scandalized, though how she managed it, splayed out so indecently before him, he would never know. He licked his lips. “Say it, Jane,” he grunted, watching a milky drop form at his cockhead and leak into her glistening slit.

“He’s welcome,” she repeated, looking utterly horrified at what she was saying. It should fill him with laughter, rather than lust. In truth, his chest was filled with both. No wonder it was burning. He shoved his way inside her, groaning at the pleasure of her tight, wet welcome.

“That’s it; take me, Wife,” he grunted, thrusting deep. Jane’s mouth formed a startled “Oh.” It wasn’t enough. He wanted to hear it. “Oh fuck, it’s good. It’s so good,” he groaned. “Tell me it’s good for you, Jane,” he urged, thrusting against her. Her shoulders were pinned so thoroughly to the mattress, that she could really do nothing but take his pummeling strokes.

“Yes, y-es, it’s good,” she whimpered, her eyes drifting shut. Suddenly they flew open, and he drowned in their topaz depths as he felt her whole body convulse around him. His own orgasm rolled through him with devastating force.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered once he could catch his breath. Jane was still softly sobbing as their bodies trembled together. “I’m sorry, my dove,” he babbled, collapsing onto his back and pulling her on top of him. He rearranged her limp body over his. His sated cock slipped out of her, even though he didn’t really want to leave.

“I’m sorry; don’t cry.” He brushed light kisses around her face. Releasing the clasp of her choker, he cast it aside and gathered her to him. Jane wept faintly on his chest.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet dove. My angel,” he murmured and other such nonsense.

When he found tears on her cheeks, his heart turned over. “Oh Jane, my sweet Jane. Let me. Shhhhh.” He didn’t even know what he was saying by this point. She wasn’t trying to turn away from him or push him away. She lay perfectly willing in his arms, but still, he wanted to comfort her. “Jane, you were magnificent. Gods, I’ve never come like that before. Not ever.” He stroked her back. “Tell me you’re well.”

She turned her head and kissed him, lightly just to the left of his lips. Just a close-mouthed kiss and he felt his heart turn over. “Jane,” he whispered. Hesitantly, she lifted her eyes to meet his. Oh gods, no. Why did he feel like this? His chest felt so full, he could scarce draw breath. “Kiss me,” he heard himself beg her. She turned her face toward his and pressed her lips to his. Just a chaste kiss. The chastest, close-mouthed kiss, and he felt like his lungs were going to explode. If he didn’t catch his breath soon, he was going to black out.

Why the fuck couldn’t he catch his breath?