Page 23 of A Lyon’s Lesson

“What did I do that gave you such pleasure?” she prompted. “I didn’t think that I did anything at all.”

He rolled onto his side toward her, propping himself up on an elbow. His other hand traced a gentle circle around one nipple. “You responded,” he said simply.

“Oh,” she said, not really understanding.

As if divining that she needed more information, he said with a lopsided smile. “An aroused woman is very erotic for a man. At least for me, anyway. I enjoy giving pleasure. I enjoy seeing a woman come.”

“Come?” she asked, bewildered.

“It is a term for orgasm, that delicious explosion of pleasure.”

“I see.” She digested the fact that of course he had done this countless times before, no doubt with many women. And yet he had said that it was possibly the best orgasm he had ever experienced. Which suggested that she had somehow done something extraordinary. But how could she, when she had no clue what to expect, let alone what to do?

“But what did I do that made it different? Better?”

“I’m not sure,” he shrugged. “It might just be that I’ve not been with a woman for a while.”

“Oh.” She felt a stab of disappointment, and . . . jealousy? For the unknown female he had last lain with.

“Don’t overthink it, sweetheart. It was good, and first times seldom are.” He leaned forward and suckled one of her nipples. The sensation sent a bolt of feeling to the place between her legs. She had noticed that before. It made her hips jerk involuntarily. He looked at her, grinning around the portion of her breast in his mouth. As he drew on it harder, the pull inside her got stronger, and his hand traveled down her belly to the place where the sensations had been the strongest. His touch was light but effective.

She closed her eyes, and sighed, giving into the feeling his fingers aroused. If her pleasure gave him pleasure, who was she to argue with that? He moved to the other nipple and kept stroking her, and she arched her back and whimpered, it felt so good. He captured her mouth in a kiss that made something deep inside her ache, and her hands clutched at his shoulders.

When he broke the kiss, she said breathlessly, “Do it again, Rick.”

“Do what again?” he asked, kissing her neck.

“Put yourself inside me,” she panted. “I almost came again, when you did it before. If it had lasted longer, I think I would have.”

“Oh Diana, you are a goddess,” he groaned. “Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“No.” She dug her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders as his touch continued to set fire to her body.

“You make me hard again, just so that I might satisfy you,” he whispered. “I wish that I could have lasted longer, but I was too overcome with lust for you. This time, however, I will do better.” He moved over her body, settling into place between her hips. She felt the press of his member against her entrance and then the stretch as he pushed inside. The fullness as he pressed deeper and the satisfaction of his reaching his full length within her. He was big, her husband. At least he felt that way to her. And his groan of pleasure as he paused made her smile.

This! This is what it means to be a woman. A wife.

She tilted her hips up to take him deeper and pulled him closer. “Do it, Rick,” she urged. “I want to feel you pound me.”

“Cecelia!” His voice roughened, even as his hips moved. “My wife is a wicked temptress,” he murmured against her neck and bit the tender skin gently, suckling it afterward.

She moaned as he increased the pace, pushing her body up in time with his, instinctively reaching for the pleasure that seemed just out of reach. He kept up a steady rhythm, and she could feel the bliss building in her body as it had before, her sensitized flesh responding to the action of his, both without and within.

As it built, it became impossible to keep the noises that rose up inside her silent, and she found herself giving voice to moans and gasps and groans and whimpers as a kind of desperation seized her for the pleasure to crest and burst. But it remained exasperatingly just out of reach.

She uttered a sound of frustration and pounded his back with her fists. “More!” she begged, not really quite sure what she meant.

“Like this?” he panted, speeding up.

“Yes! Yes! Please! More! Oh, Rick!” She flung her head back, almost sobbing. “Please! Ahh!” her voice cracked as her body convulsed with pleasure, and she clung to him as he continued his relentless pounding of her body, his panting roar eventually heralding his own release. And she felt the jerk and hot rush of it within her as he gave her his seed.

This time he covered her face with kisses in the aftermath, whispering nonsense words she couldn’t make out. Some of them were expletives, others were sounds she couldn’t decipher.

“What was that?” she asked catching her breath.

“Huh!” he huffed a breath. “Latin. Veni, vidi, vici. I came. I saw. I conquered. Julius Caeser is supposed to have said it when he conquered Britain. But we used to say in school veni, vidi, futui. I came. I saw. I fucked!”

She giggled, partially from shock and partially because—well, it was funny. School boy humor.