Anne Really Out Here In Her D.ommy M.ommy Era - Tumblr Posts
Her mind is blurry, clouded over with a haze of longing as his hands graze over her skin. She'd imagined what this moment might feel like for longer than she'd care to admit, but it would never have matched up to the reality of it. His rough hands trailing over her soft skin was a chaotic mixture.
She moans into his mouth as his hands find their way between her legs and she slinks her arms around his shoulders to steady herself. It had been nearly a decade since she'd last been with a man and Anne can't help but think all the waiting had been worth it. She doesn't know if she'd be strong enough to wait again, but she wouldn't have to. Not anymore. She knows she would've contained herself if he hadn't wanted this. If he had been perfectly content just going to sleep fully dressed, she would've cherished it just as much. But there's no denying she had hoped for this sort of ending. That she had prayed for this sort of blessing on their wedding night.
"John." His name slipped out as she hitched a breath, craning her neck to the side to allow him more ground to cover. She felt dizzy, her heartbeat erratic as each circle of his fingers brought a wave of pleasure. After she grew content with his lips on her chest, Anne reached out to take his face in her hands, leaning in to place a tantalizingly brief kiss to his lips. "Show me how much you want me."
Lifting his arms, John helped shrug out of his shirt. He could feel Anne's bare legs brush against his bare middle and the sensation of her skin over his was maddening, but when her hand trailed between them, his brow furrowed offering a painless wince when her fingers brushed over the scar on his abdomen, but then her soft hands were overs his and any transgressions were forgotten, all his focus remaining on her as he was malleable under her touch.
"Hopefully I can live up to your expectations."
He stifled a laugh, swallowing thickly as she guided his hands upward, his calloused hands skimming over her smooth curves -- up her thighs, over her hips -- and with each movement, the hem of her shift was forced to rise with them. He couldn't help but stare as she exposed more of herself to him. She was beautiful, there was no other word to describe her, no other image to compare to her from artwork, from the likes of poetry.
He was faintly aware of the blush burning in his own face; he felt warm, heated, an acute ache of want settling all throughout him.
When Anne guided his hands to rest over her breasts, John shifted uncomfortably beneath her, his breeches becoming more restricting by the second; instinctively, he leaned forward to kiss her, grazing his thumbs over her hardening nipples but that was when his eyes flickered to hers, almost startled to meet her gaze.
"I'm afraid so. Terribly in love." He grinned faintly, "I don't think there's a world in which I wouldn't have loved you."
"Anne..." but her name was more a moan than speech as he released her just long enough to lift her shift the rest of the way from her form so she was bared to him and he closed the space between them, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss, one hand remained anchored to the back of her neck, the other slipping between her legs. The slick that awaited him made him groan into her mouth and breaking away, he trailed open mouthed kisses across her throat, wanting, needing to taste more of her, all the while rubbing slow, meticulous circles against her clit.