The Private Affairs Of Lady Jane Fielding by Viveka Portman

weakly, ‘able to do this? For I shall not blame you if you are not.’
    ‘You shall not, but your husband will. I am quite capable of…this.’
    I reached over and drew back the covers of the bed, exposing my ankles and feet. I feared that he may not find me desirable. After all, he’d never made any gesture to suggest otherwise. My nightdress was verily near sheer and I knew that, though still clothed, my form would be visible to him.
    The lump in Matthew’s throat bobbed up and then down.
    I hoped this was an indication of his rising passion, but remained uncertain.
    ‘Shall we proceed?’ I asked weakly. My sex, the wicked thing, was seeping with dew. I hoped Matthew did not think me wanton when he discovered how ready my body was for his unwed intrusion.
    He inhaled and nodded, clearly not trusting himself to speak. His hands went to the buttons of his breeches, and nimbly unbuttoned them. I heard my own sharp intake of breath when his phallus sprung forth. It was erect, large and well formed, similar to my husband’s. Alas, where my husband’s manhood sometimes required coaxing to acquire its turgid form since his accident, Matthew’s clearly need no such urging, and for this I was profoundly grateful. My heart pounded, and I found Matthew watching me. His breath heaved in his chest, his large hands clenched. From his waistcoat pocket he pulled a phial of gold-green liquid.
    ‘Jacob gave me oil, to ease my entry.’ His voice was a mere whisper.
    ‘That is kind,’ I managed to respond, though my face bloomed red.
    It was clear that Matthew took this as invitation. He pulled the cork from the phial and poured an amount onto his hand. Without further preamble he began to coat his phallus with strong, manly strokes.
    I found myself watching this scene with dry-mouthed interest. His hand, large and strong, pumped up and down his staff to ensure it was well coated. As he did, I heard him hiss between his teeth, and his lids fell to half-mast. My breasts tightened, and my sex throbbed with need. Of course, I had seen Jacob do the same thing, and had in fact done it to Jacob, but watching this man who was not my husband caress and coat his manhood with oil made me weak with need. I wanted to feel Matthew inside me, yet I did not want him to know exactly how much I wished it.
    After a moment, Matthew paused, and brushed a strand of blond curling hair from his face. ‘Are you prepared?’ Again he spoke so softly.
    I nodded.
    Like a cat stalking through long grass, Matthew moved over the bed, positioning himself over me. His hands, glistening with oil, reached out and grabbed the hem of my nightdress and firmly drew it up to my waist. His eyes hungrily followed its progress. To get the dress above my waist I lifted my buttocks from the bed, and when I did, I found Matthew stilling above me. His eyes locked on the juncture of my legs. My skin burned with his gaze as it crawled up my thighs and rested upon my sex. I knew my secret inner lips were swollen with desire; they pulsed with wicked arousal, no doubt peaking beyond the golden hair that usually obscured them. I heard myself gulp, and without a word, parted my legs further to reveal the opening of my most private part. I knew without looking my nether hair was soaked and curling from the forbidden excitement.
    Matthew cursed softly under his breath, and looked away.
    For a mortifying moment, I felt I had repulsed him. Then, I saw a bead of seed pearl on the end of his staff. Thank heavens, he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
    Like a panther, and without invitation, he moved atop me, his knee inserted betwixt my legs to part them further for his ease of access.
    My breath turned ragged as I felt the head of his staff nudge the apex of my thighs. He rested up on his forearms, looking down at me; his eyes held the remnants of a question I did not need to answer.
    With a swift, brutal shove he was inside me, forcing my sex wide. He gave a low animalistic grunt of