Page 78 of Speechless
Moments before she came, he shifted position, holding onto one thigh and bringing a hand to aid his pursuit. Circling the entrance to her entrance, he soothed her, reassured her as she asked him what was happening, why she felt this way. Asked him if she was going to die.
That last question held a serious note he couldn’t ignore. “Relax and breathe, Jenna. This is all normal, I promise. Just relax and breathe,” he repeated. “Trust me.”
Teasing her to the pinnacle again took only a minute. Fires anxiety had almost extinguished roared back to life with careful manipulation of his tongue. As the first spasm wracked her, arching her body like a bridge over forgotten waters, he probed her gently, pushed deep with a single finger as she clenched and released with—mother of all things fucking holy—the tightest pussy in existence.
Jenna screamed, muscles seized as the force of her orgasm paralyzed her nervous system. He thrust in slow, measured time, giving her internal muscles something to clamp down on, nurturing the climax for another twenty seconds before her muscles unlocked and she collapsed bonelessly onto the mattress.
She was almost sobbing, her legs jerking and twitching. Sweat drenched her. Her eyes, unfocused and glassy, sought his. Her hand lifted an inch off the bed toward him, flopped limply down again.
Connor didn’t hesitate, moving straight into aftercare without a thought for his now painfully throbbing cock. He withdrew his finger slowly, wanting her to remember a killer orgasm, not discomfort from a hasty retreat.
Off the bed and across the room in a heartbeat, he snagged a blanket from a pile he’d accumulated just for this purpose. The royal blue fleece was soft, warm, and could have been crafted from a cloud. He climbed back onto the bed, covering his lap and shoulder with half the blanket, then lifted Jenna onto his lap and swiftly wrapped her up.
This was where caring for her really mattered. She hadn’t hit subspace, not by a long shot, but he’d given enough women orgasms to recognize a shattering release. The kind that loosened locks on repressed emotions and sent the woman into a tailspin.
Chemicals and hormones spinning through the system could create one hell of a breakdown, and Jenna wasn’t the type of woman to ride the wave, acknowledge it, and carry on as though it was an everyday occurrence.
“Who’s my good girl? Who’s my best girl, baby?” Connor rocked her, hands petting and stroking before the emotional drop took a deep hold. She was trembling so viciously, the aftermath sank into his bones. “You are. You did so well, Jenna. Such a clever, responsive girl.”
A sob hiccupped from within the fleece, and Connor braced for the next. It came a few seconds later, followed by another. He rocked and crooned, hummed and stroked, until the storm passed.
For another twenty minutes after the waters cleared.
The trembling finally stopped. Jenna went limp, but when he peeked at her, tears glistened on open lashes like raindrops on a sunny morning. Her pupils were almost back to normal, her breathing calm and easy. She regarded him with something akin to awe.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she murmured before her thumb disappeared into her mouth. Her go-to self-comfort method.
Adult Jenna had snuck away in the chaos to recover, he mused. Quite frankly, he wasn’t surprised. She’d had her eyes opened and her curiosity satisfied—maybe not to the full extent, but certainly beyond heavy petting—and that was something she’d need to process.
“Are you okay, Jenna?”
She nodded sleepily, her lips curving adorably.
“Do you want me to get you anything?”
The thumb popped out. “Moose. Luna.”
Shit. He’d forgotten the damn dog. Connor cast an eye over the edge of the bed, saw eyes gleaming at him. Yeah, Luna the guard mutt didn’t look impressed at bearing witness to Jenna’s sexual awakening.
Connor found Moose stuffed under Jenna’s pillow and tucked it into the blanket where limp arms cuddled him tight. They were comfortable, cozy, with Jenna’s head resting beneath his chin, her body settled into his body perfectly. He didn’t want to move ever again.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said quietly to the baleful dog. “You can get on the bed if you lie down and let me hold her for a while. After, I’ll let you out and feed you. Agreed?”
Intelligent eyes blinked, then Luna sat up, tail wagging. When he patted the mattress, she hesitated until he patted again. Agile as a goat, she leaped and padded around the bed until she flopped beside him.
Chapter Sixteen
Ten days after their first foray into intimacy, Connor’s life reverted back to a semblance of normality. It gave him a glimpse into what life with Jenna would be like when this shit with Sire was finally over.
They went to bed together on a night after dinner and watched TV in bed while hands roamed, and mouths teased. They woke together, sometimes with Jenna tucked into him, other times with just skin touching skin in the form of fingers or feet.
Jenna had gravitated more toward adult Jenna a lot, employing little Jenna only when she was troubled or upset. She seemed settled, falling into their daily routine with ease, although he still couldn’t get her out of the house—not even into the backyard with Luna.
His clinic hours altered slightly, finishing earlier in an afternoon unless it was an emergency, and he liked spending the time with Jenna. Sarah sure as hell appreciated the extra time with her twins and husband.
His friend had returned to the house contrite, although somewhat less broken, and groveled profusely to Jenna with fervor. There’d been tears on both sides, and Connor grimaced, remembering the strange babble of crying females. How the hell they’d understood what the other was saying, he didn’t know, because he hadn’t. Not a freaking word of it.
While he worked in the clinic with Sarah, Jenna spent her time with Luna, and the pair were inseparable. The only time Luna could be found away from Jenna’s side was when she was in the yard doing her doggy business. Jenna was also putting a lot of time and effort into improving her reading and writing skills.