The Titan Drowns: Time Travel Romance by Nhys Glover (highly recommended books .txt) 📕

He laughed a deep, rumbling belly laugh at her frank observation. ‘Thank you, I think. And I will reciprocate by saying that your lush, rounded, hourglass figure is everything I hoped for. Now, unless you want to comment on that other part of me that you must surely know about in theory, come to bed and let us see if we can put some of your theory into practice, for both our benefits.’

She threw her arms around his neck and smothered him with little kisses. When he tried to capture her mouth with his own to deepen the kisses, she slipped away from him. Mischief burned in the depth of her big, round eyes.

‘Stop playing vixen, my patience is worn very thin!’ he demanded, using both his hands to hold her head still so that he could taste her lips and invade the moist heat of her mouth with his tongue. It took no more than that and the arousal that had burned through them both not long before was again white hot and desperate.

Eilish backed up until they were at the bed and then she let herself drop back, taking Max’s full weight with her. Her hands were everywhere at once, stroking, kneading, skimming across his burning skin like a hot knife over butter. Wherever she touched him, he came alive and his senses threatened him with overload. He could taste her salty warmth; he could smell her feminine musk and he could hear her little whimpering noises and moans, as they told him what he did was right.

After the kisses had begun to stray to other parts of her body, she became desperate to remove the last vestiges of clothing that lay between them. With shaking, hasty hands, they removed the fabric until they were skin to skin and his hard length lay pressed tight against her soft belly.

‘Dear God in Heaven, how could anyone call this bad,’ he mumbled against her neck between fevered kisses. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. The pressure was building to the point where he was sure he would explode, but he had learned as a teenager to control his urges, so he would not commit the sin of self-abuse.

‘Eilish I cannot maintain control…’

She opened her eyes and looked down at his throbbing member. Her small hands came together and wrapped themselves firmly around his length and he couldn’t hold back the gasp of pleasure that touch elicited.

‘Then don’t hold back. Come for me, Max. Let me see what it will be like when you take me,’ she said as she moved her hands firmly up and down his length. The unexpectedness of her actions and the pure pleasure of it had him crying out, as wave after wave of wild sensation washed over and through him.

Nothing had prepared him for this, not even the wet dreams he half-remembered waking from as a boy in puberty. This was pure sensation, pure unfettered joy, and he rode it as Eilish’s untutored hands rode him.

When he lay atop her, the sticky evidence of his shame between them, he shut his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her disgust. When her hands began to stroke his back, he took courage and peeked at her sweat-soaked face. She smiled at him.

‘I think I will quite enjoy you doing that to me,’ she said cheekily, turning to drop a kiss on his temple. ‘But can you ease off a bit. You are making it as hard to breath as those damn stays.’

He used his arms to lift the weight of his body off hers and felt again the embarrassment of the sticky evidence of his release. ‘I have made a mess of you.’

‘Sex, so they say, is a very messy activity. That is half the fun. But you can clean up with the flannel in the bathroom. I do like having my own bathroom.’

He scrambled off her and went for the wet flannel. He washed himself and then brought the cleaned flannel back to wash her. Finally, he lay down at her side, strangely at peace.

‘Max,’ she said tentatively. ‘Would you touch me as I touched you? I have found in the last few weeks that being touched there feels good.’

‘Who has touched you – Bedford?‘ His demand was rough, as feelings of rage and possessiveness tore at him like a wild dog.

‘No one. Me. I did it. When I was thinking of you.’

‘You indulged in self-abuse?’ Max spluttered in shock. He didn’t know how he felt about such an idea. At first, it seemed wrong, as it was wrong for him to do such a thing to himself. But then the very idea of her fingers going between her legs to that forbidden place had his staff rising again.

‘I abuse no one, especially not myself. I pleasure myself. Surely, if you can do it, I can.’

‘I do not do it.’

‘Good heavens, why not?’

‘Because it is self-abuse and a sin. ‘

‘That is another rule you are going to have to throw out, dear boy. Giving yourself, or another, pleasure is not a sin. But if you would rather do it for me, that would be good too.’ Her tone was cheeky and he couldn’t hold back the chuckle that accompanied hers.

‘Very well, to save you from the sin of self-abuse,’ he let his hands slide down her smooth, rounded stomach until his fingers grazed her midnight thatch of maiden hair. His arousal was pulsing like a wild thing already and Eilish reached over and stroked it like a cat.

‘You seem big to me. Six inches is said to be average. You seem more than that and a lot thicker than I expected. Having never seen a penis before, I cannot be sure.’

‘Merciful heaven, I see what you mean. You are going to leave me permanently red of face, woman. Alternatively, I am going to become immune to your embarrassing ways and never blush again. That feels so …’ he couldn’t find a word for it, so he just groaned. Then he decided it was time his outrageous lady did a bit more groaning.

Not sure what he was doing, he let his fingers drift down between her cleft and was delighted by her little gasp and squirm. She was wet and hot and his arousal screamed at him to let him share the experience. But he fought the urge and pressed lower with his fingertips to where he knew his member wanted to go. Eilish’s breath was coming faster now and she opened her legs so he had no impediment to his exploration. Just looking at her laying there with her legs spread wide and his hand clamped over her moist core was pushing him hard. As he sank his middle finger deep into her, she bucked. At first, he worried he had hurt her. Then, when she put her hand over his to hold him in place, he got the idea that he was doing anything but hurting her.

Going purely by instinct, he drew his finger out and then thrust it in again, deeper this time, mimicking his body’s actions. She writhed beneath his hand and he let her ride his finger until she seemed to want more. Suddenly, he had an idea. He removed his hand and moved down the bed, tickled by her obvious disappointment. If he could kiss her mouth and gain such pleasure from it, what would it be like to kiss this secret place?

Avoiding her desperate attempts to stop him, he buried his face in her tight curls and breathed in her scent. It was the most powerful aphrodisiac he had ever experienced, and when he kissed her with his tongue sliding into her deep cleft, he chuckled with pleasure as she bucked again beneath him and then held his head in place as he used his tongue to explore every crevice and mound he could reach. She was almost crying by the time he had satisfied his curiosity and was content that what he had done to her was driving her beyond sanity.

‘Max, please… I need… I…’ He cupped her core with his hand again and as she ground her pelvis against his hand, he understood that she was getting close to that agonising point he knew so well. But how to push her over? His fingers accidentally found the little lump his tongue had discovered earlier and he stroked it gently. She cried out as if in agony and he drew back in panic. When she calmed, she reached for him with desperate hands.

‘Do it, please. I need you…’

And all thoughts of the humiliation of his marriage bed were forgotten as she guided him to her entrance and very slowly, with agonising care, he slid into her until he reached the barrier he knew was her maiden head. As she sensed him hesitate, she jerked her hips up and impaled herself fully on him, and once breached he sank deep into her hot, liquid well to the hilt.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he croaked, feeling his control shredding like tissue. Concentrating hard, he noted her wordless shake of head, as her hips arched up off the bed so that she could get him even deeper into her. With a long, slow slide, he drew himself back and then plunged into her core again, and her fingernails dug into his back as she began to cry.

Memories of Agnes resurfaced and he made to draw away. She clung to him desperately and he realised again that this was nothing like Agnes. He began to sense what they both needed in that moment. He took the weight of his upper body on his arms and began to drive into her like a piston on one of those new automobiles.

Over and over, he thrust into her, until he lost all sense of where he ended and she began. They moved as one being, a fierce and fiery animal that had only one purpose, and that driving, pulsing purpose came nearer and nearer until, finally letting go of all restraints, he flew, as flames pushed him higher and higher, and then dropped suddenly away, so he crashed down into the ecstasy of the petite mort – the little death.

As he collapsed onto her wet body, he felt the tiny ripples of her inner muscles squeeze him dry. When he had strength enough in his arms, he levered himself off her so that she could breathe. Even so, she fought him when he tried to draw out of her.

‘Please, not yet. It feels so good to have you inside me. It is as if there has always been a space there, deep inside, that I never knew existed. But now it has been filled and I do not want to feel its emptiness again.’ He kissed her damp hair and did her bidding. Then, when he knew he could stay no longer, he withdrew and lay at her side, resting his head on her shoulder.

‘That was worth waiting forty years for,’ he mumbled against the damp strands of her raven-black curls.

‘Forty years? Try waiting three hundred years. And yes, I agree, well worth it.’

He kissed her shoulder. ‘May I stay the remainder of the night? I will try to get out early so as not to attract too much attention in my evening clothes. However, I do not know if I have the energy to move just yet, or for the foreseeable future. I have not slept well of late.’

‘Mmm… neither have I. Turn over and spoon me and let us go to sleep. We will worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.’

‘Spoon you?’

She chuckled and held up her hands, so he could see the position she wanted. And so he spooned her, pressing his chest against her back, and bending his legs up to meet hers. It was an amazingly comfortable and nurturing position. He felt as if he shielded her from harm with his body.

Where she gained the knowledge she had, he did not know. Even so, one thing he knew for certain, knowledgeable in