An Innocent Abroad: A Jazz Age Romance by Romy Sommer

brushing his
lips over her jaw and down the tender skin of her throat. “Touch me, as you
want me to touch you.”
    She
stretched out a hand to his taut abdomen, running her palm over his muscles,
over the bunched up power beneath his hot skin. Growing braver, she moved her
hand lower, circling the base of his erection, cupping him with her palm as he
had shown her in the water.
    She
squeezed a little as she stroked him up and down, felt him buck in her hand,
and he moaned with pleasure.
    “Oh
yes. That’s so good.” He lowered his mouth to her straining nipples. His mouth
was warm and soft, suckling her, pulling on her, growing more insistent. She
cried out against the shock waves rolling through her, driving straight to the
juncture of her thighs, wet now with need.
    His
hands rover over her body, just as hers were doing, moving gradually lower
until they reached the slick cleft between her legs. His fingers slid between
her inner lips, stroking, teasing.
    So
absorbed was she in the roiling sensations that she did not protest when he
slid his fingers between her legs, through the soft curls that were all the
modesty she had left. The excruciating pleasure of the movement was so intense
she thrust her hips forward against his hand, wanting more.
    Her
fingers tightened around his shaft, stroking him as he stroked her, delighting
in the velvety soft skin beneath her fingers, until he reached up and removed
her fingers from around him and shifted out of her grasp.
    “Am
I doing it wrong?” she asked.
    He
shook his head. “You’re perfect. Too perfect. This will all be over too soon if
you keep doing that.”
    He
eased himself down her body, and then placed his mouth on her opening.
    She
shut her eyes. He wasn’t really…?
    Oh.
He was.
    He
kissed the swollen nub between her legs, then sucked it into his mouth, and
pure pleasure shot through her.
    This
couldn’t be bad, could it, or wrong, when it felt so divine?
    He
worked her open with his tongue, licking and stroking until she cried out with
pleasure. She lifted her hips, pushed harder against him, and he slid a finger
into her, sending her wild with need even as her body fought against the
intrusion.
    His
finger moved in and out, invading her. Gradually she adjusted to the feel of
him, to the sensual slide of his hand.
    His
touch started a pulse throbbing through her, building in intensity, and then
the world ceased to exist. She could see nothing, hear nothing, beyond the
exquisite sensations overwhelming her.
    Only
when the wave had passed, and her eyes fluttered open again, did he stop. He
moved to lie beside her, wrapping her in his arms.
    “That
was…” there were no words.
    He
chuckled against her cheek. “That was your first orgasm.”
    “Is
it always so… good?”
    “It
should be.” He wrapped her in his arms, rolled her onto her side, and held her head
against his chest. His erection pressed against her stomach, more insistent
than ever. “And it can be even better, when I’m inside you.”
    And
better for him too, she guessed.
    “Then
can we try?” she asked, unable to resist the naughty giggle that bubbled up.
    “It
will hurt a little your first time,” he warned.
    “Then
we need to get it over with, so we can get to the second time.”
    He
laughed again, and kissed her, and she could taste herself on his lips. His
mouth was hot and wet.
    His
hand once again probed between her legs, and this time he slid two finger inside
her, widening, exploring, penetrating deeper, sliding faster over the sensitive
folds of her skin.
    His
erection pressed against her core. His fingers slid from her and she cried out
her disappointment, the cry changing as he pushed the hard head of his erection
into her. He tried to be gentle, but she tensed around the invasion, at once
reluctant and willing.
    Slowly,
slowly he buried himself in her and she felt the moment when he encountered her
resistance, and the final barrier inside her gave way. Pain flashed