When I sucked on his tongue he moaned in the back of his throat and my confidence soared. His hand slipped between my legs. Just the pressure of his palm had me seeing stars. I broke off the kiss, unable to breathe. He touched me gently at first, letting me get used to him. The things his fingers could do.
“Elvis couldn’t be with us today,” he said.
“What?” I asked, mystified.
He stopped and put two fingers into his mouth, wetting them or tasting me I didn’t know. Didn’t matter. What was important was him putting his hand back on me, fast.
“I didn’t want to share this with anyone.” The tip of his finger pushed into me, easing inside just a little. Pulling back before pressing in again. It didn’t have the same thrill attached to it that came with him stroking me but it didn’t hurt. Not yet.
“So, no Elvis. I’ll have to ask the questions,” he said.
I frowned at him, finding it hard to focus on what he was saying. It couldn’t be as important as him touching me. The pursuit of pleasure ruled my mind. Maybe he babbled during foreplay. I didn’t know. If he wanted, I was more than willing to listen to him later.
His gaze lingered on my breasts until finally he dipped his head, taking one into his mouth. My back bowed, pushing his finger further inside. The way his mouth drew on me erased any discomfort. He stroked me between my legs and the pleasure grew. I tingled in the best way possible. When I did this, it was nice. When David did it, it reached the heights of spectacular, stellar. I knew he was crazy good at guitar, but this had to be where his true talent lay. Honestly.
“God, David.” I arched against him when he moved to my other breast. Two fingers worked inside me, a little uncomfortable but nothing I couldn’t handle. Not so long as he kept his mouth on me, lavishing my breasts with attention. His thumb rubbed around a sweet spot and my eyes rolled back into my head. So close. The strength of what was building was staggering. Mind blowing. My body was going to be blown to dust, atoms, when this hit.
If he stopped I’d cry. Cry, and beg. And maybe kill.
Happily, he didn’t stop.
I came groaning, every muscle drawn taut. It was almost too much. Almost. I floated, my body limp, satiated for all time. Or at least until the next time.
When I opened my eyes again, he was there waiting. He ripped open the condom with his teeth and then put it on. I’d barely caught my breath when he rose over me, moved between my legs.
“Good?” he asked, with a smile of satisfaction.
A nod was the best I could do.
He took the bulk of his weight onto his elbows, his body pressing me into the bed. I’d noticed he enjoyed using his size to the advantage of both of us. It worked. Certainly, there was nothing boring or claustrophobic about the position. I don’t know why I’d thought there would be. In the back of Tommy Byrnes parents’ car I’d been cramped and uncomfortable, but this was nothing like that. Lying underneath him, feeling the heat of his skin against mine, was perfect. And there could be no doubting how much he wanted this. I lay there, waiting for him to push into me.
Still waiting.
He brushed his lips against mine. “Do you, Evelyn Jennifer Thomas, agree to stay married to me, David Vincent Ferris?”
Oh, that was the Elvis he’d been talking about. The one who’d married us. Huh. I held back his hair, needing to see his eyes. I should have asked him to tie it back. It made it hard to try and gauge his seriousness.
“You really want to do this now?” I asked, a little thrown. I’d been so busy worrying about the sex I hadn’t seen this coming.
“Absolutely. We’re doing our vows again right now.”
“Yes?” I said.
He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at me. The look on his face was distinctly pained. “Yes? You’re not sure?”
“No. I mean, yes,” I repeated, more definitely. “Yes. I’m sure. I am.”
“Thank fuck for that.” His hand rifled under the pillow next to me, returning with the ring of stupendousness sparkling between his fingers. “Hand.”
I held my hand between us and he slid the ring on. My cheeks hurt, I was smiling so hard. “Did you say ‘yes’ too?”
“Yes.” He took my mouth in a hard kiss. His hand slid down my side, over my stomach to cup me between my legs. Everything there was still sensitive and no doubt wet. The hunger in his kisses and the way he touched me assured me he certainly didn’t mind.
He fit himself to me and pushed in. This was it. And suddenly, shit, I couldn’t relax. The memory of pain from the last time I’d attempted this messed with my mind. Wet didn’t matter when my muscles wouldn’t give. I gasped, my thighs squeezing his hips. David was hard and thick and it hurt.
“Look at me,” he said. The blue of his eyes had darkened and his jaw was set. His damp skin gleamed in the low lighting. “Hey.”
“Hey.” My voice sounded shaky even to my own ears.
“Kiss me.” He lowered his face and I did so, pressing my tongue into his mouth, needing him. Carefully, he rocked against me, moving deeper inside me. The pad of his thumb played around my clit, counteracting the hurt. The pain eased, coming closer to being plain old discomfort with an edge of pleasure. No problem. This I could handle.
Fingers wrapped around my leg before sliding down to cup a butt cheek. He pulled me in against him and moved deeper inside me. Rocking against me until I’d taken him all. Which was a problem, because there wasn’t enough damn room in me for him.
“It’s okay,” he groaned.
Easy for him to say.
Shit.
Bodies flush against each another we lay there, unmoving. My arms were around his head so tight, clinging to him, that I’m not certain how he breathed. Somehow he managed to turn his face enough to kiss my neck, lick the sweat from my skin. Up, over my jaw to my mouth. The death grip I had on him eased when he kissed me.
“That’s it,” he said. “Try and relax for me.”
I nodded jerkily, willing my body to unwind.
“You are so damn beautiful and, God, you feel fucking amazing.” His big hand petted my breast, calloused fingers stroking down my side, easing me. My muscles began to relax incrementally, adjusting to his presence. The hurt faded more every time he touched me, whispering words of praise.
“This is good,” I said at last, my hands resting on his biceps. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re better than okay. You’re amazing.”
I gave him a giddy smile. He said the best things.
“You mean I can move?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He started rocking against me again, moving a little more each time. Gradually gaining momentum as our bodies moved slickly together. We fit, mostly. And we were actually doing it, the deed. Talk about feeling close to someone. You couldn’t get physically closer. I was so profoundly glad it was him. It meant everything.
Tommy had lasted two seconds. Long enough to break my hymen and hurt me. David touched me and kissed me and took his time. Slowly, the sweet heat, that sensation of pressure building, came again. He tended to it with care, feeding me long, wet kisses. Stroking himself into me in a way that brought only pleasure. He was incredible, watching me so closely, gauging my reactions to everything he did.
Eventually, I clung onto him and came hard. It felt like the New Year’s fireworks display inside me, hot and bright and perfect. So much more with inside and over me, his skin plastered to mine. I stuttered out his name and he pressed hard against me. When he groaned his whole body shuddered. He buried his face in my neck, his breath heating my skin.
We’d done it.
Huh.
Wow.
Things did ache a little. People were right about that. But nothing like last time.
Carefully, he moved off me, collapsing on the bed at my side.
“We did it,” I whispered.
His eyes opened. His chest was still heaving, working to get more air into him. After a moment, he rolled onto his side to face me. There’d never been a better man. Of this I was certain.
“Yeah. You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” I shuffled closer, seeking out the heat of his body. He slid an arm over my waist, drawing me in. Letting me know I was wanted. Our faces were a bare hand’s width apart. “It was so much better than last time. I think I like sex after all.”
“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.”
“Were you nervous?”
He chuckled shuffling closer. “Not as nervous as you were. I’m glad you liked it.”
“I loved it. You’re a man of many talents.”
His smile took on a certain glow.
“You’re not going to get all cocky on me now, are you? All puns intended.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I trust you to keep me grounded, Mrs Ferris.”
“Mrs Ferris,” I said, with no small amount of wonder. “How about that?”
“Hmm.” His fingers stroked my face.
I caught his bare hand, inspecting it. “You don’t have a ring.”
“No, I don’t. We’ll have to fix that.”
“Yes, we will.”
He smiled. “Hey, Mrs Ferris.”
“Hey, Mr Ferris.”
There wasn’t enough room in me for all the feelings he inspired.
Not even close.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We spent the afternoon back down in the recording studio with Tyler and Mal. When David wasn’t playing he pulled me onto his lap. When he was busy on guitar, I listened in awe of his talent. He didn’t sing, so I remained in the dark about the lyrics. But the music was beautiful in a raw, rock ’n’ roll sort of way. Mal seemed pleased with the new material, bopping his head along in time.
Tyler beamed behind the splendid board of buttons and dials. “Play that lick again, Dave.” My husband nodded and his fingers moved over the fretboard, making magic.
Pam had been busy while we’d been upstairs, starting on unpacking the collection of boxes. When she made a move to return to the job in the early evening I went with her. Unasked or not, it wasn’t fair that she got lumped with the task on her own. Plus, it pleased my inner need to organize. I snuck back downstairs now and then as the hours passed, stealing kisses, before heading back up to help Pam again. David and co remained immersed in the music. They’d come up seeking food or drink but returned immediately to the studio.