He backed up, the warmth of him no longer curling against her. She looked over her shoulder to find he was unbuttoning his shirt, but watching her with a speculative expression.

“Put your hands on the bed,” he ordered, softly but firmly.

She edged closer to the high mattress and fisted each hand against the coverlet. She heard his shirt hit the floor and gasped at the sound. He would take off his trousers next, and her legs shook at the thought of him naked behind her.

“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please, please touch me.”

He was silent a moment. “You want me to please you?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder again and nodded. “Yes.”

“I very much intend to do so, and myself in the process,” he promised as he moved forward and tugged her chemise down her arms. He lifted each hand off the bed in turn so he could pull it away.

She lifted her backside against him out of instinct rather than knowledge, and he grunted out a curse beneath his breath that turned her ears crimson, then gripped her hips and ground himself against her. Through his trousers, she felt the hard ridge of his erection press against the valley of her backside, and sucked air in through her teeth at the sensation.

His hand wedged between them and she felt him unfasten his trousers. Now his hot flesh touched her rather than the rough fabric. His cock nudged her from behind as he reached around to curl his body around hers, to cup her breasts, to pluck her nipples. She pushed back and he entered an inch. They sighed together, and he stood a little taller as he thrust his hips and claimed his prize in one long stroke.

She gripped the coverlet tighter as he withdrew and slammed forward again. Her sheath fluttered at the hard invasion, which hit her body in new ways thanks to the position. He leaned in and bit her shoulder, gentle but possessive, and she cried out with unexpected response at the harsh touch.

He caught her hand, tangling his fingers with hers. She clung to him through a few strokes, but then he moved, guiding their combined hands between her legs. He settled her fingers there, against the wet warmth of her sex.

“Please yourself, Thomasina,” he said, his voice rough.

She looked back at him, saw the desperate need in his eyes. The driving desire and passion and somewhere beneath it all, something else. Something deeper than the physical. Something close to everything she’d ever dreamed of.

She found her fingers moving as he stroked again, pushing aside her outer lips, brushing against the root of his cock as he took her. He let out a garbled moan and gripped her hips harder, grinding in shallow circles as she found the right spot for her pleasure. Her clitoris was already hard there, and she stroked it, letting the hood come back to find the exquisitely sensitive nub beneath. She gasped as she ground against him, ground against her own hand.