tears welled into her eyes.
Then she noticed excess fabric bunching in her crotch behind what was clearly a hole in the fabric over her vagina. Karen noticed Emeline’s glance follow her own. She thought she saw pity flash on the French woman’s face before the usual felicity reasserted itself. Fear coursed through Karen. What was the fabric? She was too terrified to ask.
Emeline was again ebullient. “Look what I have for you, Cherie.” She pulled a piece of fragile white silk jersey from the box and held it up in both hands. It was a negligee but shaped almost identically to the perpetually waiting wedding gown. Emeline slipped the silk over Karen’s head. Karen heard its gentle rustle but felt nothing through her restrictive garment. Again she goggled. The ethereal garment clung voluptuously to her newly pared curves then fell to a circular pool at her feet.
While Karen stared at herself, Emeline turned back the bed. “Come, Cherie. Time to await your husband.” She plumped a thick pile of pillows and helped Karen rest against them, the covers arranged decoratively at her hips.
Breathing was intensely difficult. A fresh burst of nerves made Karen’s heart once again race and blackness return. Emeline smiled kindly down at her. “Relax, Cherie. It will be wonderful.” Her dulcet voice washed over Karen as she slipped through the glass doors.
A moment later, Michael stood beside her, still dressed in his dark suit. His smile held something she hadn’t seen before and it sent her blood surging into her head – and lower – as she looked up at him. He leaned down to her and his full lips pressed hers. “Let me look at you.” His mien was warm and, she discerned despite her naiveté, intensely masculine as he lowered the covers. He looked into her face. “See how beautiful you can be! It is only because I love you that I want this for you – I want your perfection to come alive.”
Her fears and distress dissolved and she was consumed by gratitude toward him … and love?
He moved toward the armoire and undressed, carefully hanging jacket and pants and folding undergarments while continuing to examine her, adoration filling his countenance. From under lowered lashes she watched him. She’d never seen a man’s body entirely naked before, and especially not one so beautiful. Her eyes went to the broad muscles of his chest, the hard angles of his pelvis and then, slowly, shyly to the protuberance rising at his centre.
She heard her pulse throbbing in her ears as he moved to her side. At first he sat, simply looking into her face and down the length of her body. He took her hands in his and kissed the fingers and each palm, then her lips. Hitherto unknown sensation surged deep inside her and, with ripples of worry joining these others, she felt moisture well in her vagina.
What was happening inside her? Could she stop the wetness from soiling her garments and the bed? A chill passed through her, quelling the other sensations, as she imagined how angry Michael would be. She tried to focus, to find some way to fix things. But before she had a chance to think, he was on top of her. She felt his hardness pressing into her belly.
Instead of proceeding, though, he lifted himself off of her. His face was stern and her omnipresent fear sluiced upwards. “First, we must consummate our marriage.”
She saw his right hand reach lower then felt her negligee lift over her hips. She gasped as his fingers touched the hole over her vagina. But they withdrew. She was aware they wrapped around his hard penis … and then his penis’ fat end pushed inside her.
A small sound escaped her lips but he continued his progress inside her. The stretching hurt but she also found it curiously stimulating. She moaned and he paused momentarily and peered into her face. With one quick thrust he was inside so deep his pelvis pressed against hers.
Something had torn inside her. She almost fainted with anxiety – and something else,
Then she noticed excess fabric bunching in her crotch behind what was clearly a hole in the fabric over her vagina. Karen noticed Emeline’s glance follow her own. She thought she saw pity flash on the French woman’s face before the usual felicity reasserted itself. Fear coursed through Karen. What was the fabric? She was too terrified to ask.
Emeline was again ebullient. “Look what I have for you, Cherie.” She pulled a piece of fragile white silk jersey from the box and held it up in both hands. It was a negligee but shaped almost identically to the perpetually waiting wedding gown. Emeline slipped the silk over Karen’s head. Karen heard its gentle rustle but felt nothing through her restrictive garment. Again she goggled. The ethereal garment clung voluptuously to her newly pared curves then fell to a circular pool at her feet.
While Karen stared at herself, Emeline turned back the bed. “Come, Cherie. Time to await your husband.” She plumped a thick pile of pillows and helped Karen rest against them, the covers arranged decoratively at her hips.
Breathing was intensely difficult. A fresh burst of nerves made Karen’s heart once again race and blackness return. Emeline smiled kindly down at her. “Relax, Cherie. It will be wonderful.” Her dulcet voice washed over Karen as she slipped through the glass doors.
A moment later, Michael stood beside her, still dressed in his dark suit. His smile held something she hadn’t seen before and it sent her blood surging into her head – and lower – as she looked up at him. He leaned down to her and his full lips pressed hers. “Let me look at you.” His mien was warm and, she discerned despite her naiveté, intensely masculine as he lowered the covers. He looked into her face. “See how beautiful you can be! It is only because I love you that I want this for you – I want your perfection to come alive.”
Her fears and distress dissolved and she was consumed by gratitude toward him … and love?
He moved toward the armoire and undressed, carefully hanging jacket and pants and folding undergarments while continuing to examine her, adoration filling his countenance. From under lowered lashes she watched him. She’d never seen a man’s body entirely naked before, and especially not one so beautiful. Her eyes went to the broad muscles of his chest, the hard angles of his pelvis and then, slowly, shyly to the protuberance rising at his centre.
She heard her pulse throbbing in her ears as he moved to her side. At first he sat, simply looking into her face and down the length of her body. He took her hands in his and kissed the fingers and each palm, then her lips. Hitherto unknown sensation surged deep inside her and, with ripples of worry joining these others, she felt moisture well in her vagina.
What was happening inside her? Could she stop the wetness from soiling her garments and the bed? A chill passed through her, quelling the other sensations, as she imagined how angry Michael would be. She tried to focus, to find some way to fix things. But before she had a chance to think, he was on top of her. She felt his hardness pressing into her belly.
Instead of proceeding, though, he lifted himself off of her. His face was stern and her omnipresent fear sluiced upwards. “First, we must consummate our marriage.”
She saw his right hand reach lower then felt her negligee lift over her hips. She gasped as his fingers touched the hole over her vagina. But they withdrew. She was aware they wrapped around his hard penis … and then his penis’ fat end pushed inside her.
A small sound escaped her lips but he continued his progress inside her. The stretching hurt but she also found it curiously stimulating. She moaned and he paused momentarily and peered into her face. With one quick thrust he was inside so deep his pelvis pressed against hers.
Something had torn inside her. She almost fainted with anxiety – and something else,
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