Blood and Iron Ch. 05

Her fingers brushed it only gingerly at first, a slight caressing of their tips upon the side. A feeling there like rubber, firmness yielding just so slightly to the touch. Warm within her grasp - indeed, she could scarce believe how hot it was, scorching on her skin as she dared to slip her fingers all the way around, as an exhalation hissed forceful through his teeth and it seemed to pulse and harden further in her hand. Her thumb and fingertip barely touching on the other side, even when she tried a careful squeeze, saw his own hand clutch instinctive at the covers as she did. Impossible, to think that this could ever fit inside of her. But it had to. Surely. This was what they were made for. Men and women, like puzzle pieces, shaped to go together. Her mother had survived it, after all...she had to wet her lips before she could bring herself to speak. "It'll hurt, won't it."

Scarcely a question. Confirmation, for what she already knew. James staring back at her for a long handful of moments with a tortured look upon his face before at last he nodded. "Aye." Croaked out, quiet. "I reckon it would. Hurts most women, first time or two, before they get accustomed." Conflict twisted in his eyes, a commingling of the soft affection and concern that she remembered from so long ago with the hunger and desire that she'd wished so fervently to see. And building there as well, a look she'd come to recognize, the stolid grimness of refusal. The hardness that he wore when he denied, evaded, rasping faintly on his tongue as he began to speak again. "You ain't got to do this, little rose. Not now, not...whatever you're thinkin' you feel for me, ain't no reason you can't just hold it in your heart a spell, see if it goes away 'fore we do somethin' can't be taken back." His right hand raised up awkwardly to touch upon her shoulder, to gently squeeze there, reassuring. Studiously innocent, paternal, despite her own hand upon his hardness. "I got more'n my share of regrets. Don't want you to have too many of your own. 'Specially not on my account." A tiny flicker in his features, a shadow of that subtle, loving smile that had always warmed her heart. Struggling to her through the troubled tempest on his face.

In that moment, her shattered certainty was suddenly regathered. Regrets, yes - she'd known the threat of them before, the horror that had filled her as she rode to Las Cintas with his bleeding body thrown across her horse. The thought that all her dreams were lost forever, that she would never have the moment shining brightly in her mind when she was his, completely, a woman promised and possessed. That by her hesitation, she had lost the one chance given to her. That would be regret. This...it was only fear, nothing that she should countenance. There was no reason she should wait, no cause to give disaster the chance to intervene. She knew already what she felt, what she wanted. Whatever pain there was would only be the cost of it, a price she'd gladly pay. Even if it killed her, it might still be worth it. To die with him inside her, united in every way, a final culmination to all her years of searching. To have his love destroy her, and expire in his arms...the romance of the notion ached compelling in her breast, in her hips, enough to almost make her wish that such a thing would happen.

His organ still was throbbing in her hand, burning hot against her skin. Her fingers playing curiously around the broad and bulbous head, a soft delight of exploration to feel how the hood of skin would smoothly slip upon his shaft, to find the little ridge of stiffened flesh that marked the beginning of the tip. A tingle up her spine to hear her father's husky breath as she touched him here, softly stroked upon his manhood, made him feel perhaps alike the pleasure that his hand had given her the night before. His stiffness held erect, upright before her, curving slightly backwards like a saddle horn...

All at once, she was taken by a rush of inspiration, suddenly assured of an answer to the question she had pondered in the nights before, of just what men and women did when making love. Revealed clearly to her by the thought of riding, the memory of warm sensations that had sometimes risen up inside her when her horse was spurred into a gallop, when the hardened leather of the saddle pounded up against her rear, or even right between her legs when she leaned into the mane to urge the stallion faster. A hinting of the feelings she would discover with her father, with his finger thrusting thick inside her, the ecstasy of its assault. How clear it was, that he should be her mount, his lap her saddle. That she should simply spear herself upon his shaft, and ride until they found release.

Forward, then. Crawling across his outstretched legs, his manhood nestled in her hand. A pearl of wetness glinting from the little eye upon its tip, smearing sticky when she drew her thumb across it - perhaps a mirror to the trickle of desire she felt seeping slippery inside herself. Her body drooled like a starving man confronted with a feast as she drew up close before her father, kneeling there above his lap. "Pa, I ain't gonna regret nothin' that we do together." Whispering sincerity into the stubble of his cheek, while his length and hardness pressed upon her drawers, wet the simple cloth against her salivating lips. A dizzy tremor in her throat at the nearness of her dreams, at the rough and manly scent of him that filled her consciousness. So great and trembling a need she felt, pulsing in her belly, flowing liquid in her veins...it was her own fingers this time that worked apart the overlapping fabric of her drawers to find the flesh beneath, that aimed the tip of his tumescence like an arrow at her womanhood.

Nervous. Yes. She couldn't help that, for all her certainty. The rounded head of his arousal feeling like a fist against her entrance, barely kissed between her lips. Her body closed against him, despite her legs spread wide and straddling, her stomach clenching tightly with instinctive fear of his intrusion. Resistant, as she tried gingerly to lower herself upon him, to simply force his manhood past her body's fool defenses, only just to quail before the swiftly-mounting pressure that resulted, the edging in of pain as his thickness battered at her gates. The sting of struggle, of frustration joined with the arousal on her cheeks. Angry at herself for acting like a child, for being so troubled by a little pain. This was what she wanted. To force herself to do it, to face whatever agony would come...

It was another try, another straining of his girth against her virgin passage, another grimace cracking her expression as she endeavored to ignore her body's protest, before he stopped her. Before he spoke, his voice a roughened, husky murmur there before her. "Easy, now." The hands that he just lay impassive on her thighs now at last awakening, slipping up her waist, her back, along the muscles tight beside her spine. "You got to relax, little rose."

She wanted just to scream at him, nerves tangled up and keening. How useless an instruction, to relax when she could feel her dreams so close before her, just beyond her grasp. A caring in his torn and troubled smile that she almost hated now to see. He would think that she didn't really want this, that she wasn't ready, would use it as a reason he should stop and run away again. "Not until I do this." Fire in her answer, subtly betrayed by a trembling of defeat, humiliation. "Pa, I been waitin' thirteen years for this, even if I didn't know it at the start. Dreamin' thinks I didn't understand. Wantin' what I..." Words faltered on her tongue before the thought was finished, dissolved into a formless urgency of feeling - she had to swallow, shake her head, set her jaw before she spoke again. "I don't want to wait a minute more. Don't care how much it hurts. I'm going to be your woman." If he would only help her do it. If he would force himself inside her, ignore whatever pain it caused... "We're going to be together, pa, in every way. Ain't gonna let you get away from me again." The declaration steeped in half a lifetime's anguish, in the determination that had held her through the tears and misery.

"Alice..." Softness in the murmured answer. His arm tightened on her back - it was a moment there before she let herself be pulled against his chest, held close and tender. "Listen, now. Listen." Faint hesitation as he took a breath, his stubble scratching at her cheek. His rich and throaty voice caressing roughly in her ear. "It don't make no difference. If we do this now, or later, or not at all." His hand was drifting up her neck, fingers roaming in her hair. Desirous, or comforting...she couldn't tell. His manhood pressed still stiff upon her entrance, her thickened lips pursed tingling against its underside. "I ain't goin' nowhere. Hear me? Ain't nothin' out there means more to me than you. Ain't nothin' else I even give a damn about. I was a fool, leavin' you at home like that, all them years ago. I just thought..." His head shook faintly there against her. "I was a fool. And I ain't gonna make that mistake again. Don't reckon I'd leave you again even if you begged me, little rose."

The name was once again a little tremor down her spine. An inhalation, her eyes held shut as he continued. "I love you, Alice." One arm gently clenching on her waist, holding them together. A subtle kiss upon her cheek, from the corner of his lips. "Ain't even gonna try to say now if it's right or wrong. I love you, as my little girl, and as a woman, too. God knows I don't deserve nobody near as fine as you for either, with all the things I done, but if you're fool enough to want me, there ain't nothin' I can imagine that'd be better than to have you standin' by my side." Her heart aflutter in her chest, pounding madly as he held her there. Encircled in his arms, cradled close and soft. Her pa...

She fairly melted then beneath his hands, collapsing fervently against him to feel his whiskers scrape across her skin as she turned his head to kiss her now directly on the jaw, as the knot of tension in her belly was dissolved and swallowed up into the glow of her affection, her desire. Their nearly-naked bodies touching, pressed upon each other as in her deepest dreams. His fingers tracing rough along her skin, his lips descending on her neck, his manhood pulsing hot between her thighs. Rubbing slickly there between her swollen gates as she slowly pushed up again upon his chest, caught his hardness there within her entrance. Let the thickness of his head nestle tight between her lips.

"Do it, pa." Exhilaration in the whisper, drifting down to seek his ear. A taste of sweet surrender, of shallow breath and quickened pulse. His arm drawn close around her waist, strong, possessive. Tugging gently downward to push him deeper into her - this time she did not permit herself to fight it, refused the fearful clenching of her pelvic muscles. Just inhaled, slow and determined, closed her eyes and bit her lip as she felt her body stretching open for his passage. Groaning wider as his manhood forced its way inside, a strangled squeal rising from her throat as pressure sharpened into pain and her nails dug into his back, knowing that soon her flesh would surely tear, her body break, her blood spill crimson on the bed...

But it didn't. Not as she had feared - as he pushed further inward, the agony of his intrusion crested and started to subside, leaving room for other feelings to rise up to the fore. The subtly exquisite rasping of his rigid flesh against her entrance, imagining that she could feel his every vein and wrinkle as they scraped between her straining lips. The thrill of hearing once again his husky breath, almost growling from his throat while his fingers twitched and tightened on her skin. The sense of utter fullness that throbbed and ached inside her as he advanced into her depths, that exposed as just a pale shadow what she'd thought she'd felt the night before. For all the pleasure that she'd taken from his finger, it had barely been a prelude; this was the reality, the union she'd imagined, that she'd dreamed. Her pa at last inside her. Making love to her...she shivered with the thought, squirmed a little in his grasp. Relaxed her weight completely to fall upon his sword, to feel it penetrate those last few inches until his entire length was buried there inside her, until their hips kissed tenderly together and she hugged her body tight against her father's chest, knowing that she was a woman now, completely. His woman, taken and possessed.

His arm was firm around her waist, locking her upon his organ. But his voice was softer, murmuring into her hair. "You all right?" Solicitous, concerned - her response was just a little nod, gently trembling against him. Smiling madly, foolishly. She was. The pain was all but gone, forgotten, and she floated in a sea of blissful feeling. Wrapped up in his arms, his warmth around her, his girth squeezed tight into her private places...it was the heaven that she'd known so many years before, the comfort and belonging that she'd felt in his embrace, joined now by the dimension of desire, of love so thorough, so complete. Emotion and sensation, so perfectly in tune - she squeezed her thighs together, and the pleasure there that shuddered up her spine was enough to force a little squeal from her throat, a grasp that sang like music alongside her father's deeper groan.

He was first to push them from this brief tableau. The fingers he had tangled in her silken, fiery locks descending now to clasp upon her shoulder, just beside her slender neck, his muscles taken by a lustful vigor as both arms trapped her there against him, on his lap, impaled on his manhood. The feeling of her taut and youthful body stretched around him, of velvet petals clutching warm and wet - if there still had been a trace of hesitation in his manner, a twinge of guilt to hold him back, it was banished in this moment, crowded out by the carnal need which pounded in his loins, to which he was finally surrendered. Crushing her delicious body down upon his lap, erasing that final, fractional separation until he was buried in her to the hilt, until he heard her sweetly whimper, the very air forced from her lungs by the force of his embrace.

"Pa..." She whispered there beside his ear, shivering against his chest, and how divine the sound of it, enamored and enchanting. How eager her cooperation as he dropped his hands again across her skin to grasp upon her smoothly rounded buttocks, trim and firm, as his fingers squeezed into that supple bed of flesh. Lifting, urging her upwards - even as he felt her womanhood withdraw, the mingled loss and pleasure of her satin grip retreated from his shaft, he could not help but to admire the lithe and practiced flexing of her hips, her almost naked thighs. Could not resist to kiss again upon her modest bosom as it rose up there before him, to stroke it with his lips, gently biting at one tiny, tender nipple to hear her cry of satiation and feel her fingers scraping on his back. And an exclamation of his own, a grunt of deep and lustful pleasure as she descended once again, as his throbbing hardness was snugly holstered in her heaven. Squeezed into her passage, hot and wet and slippery, and just an instant now at that perigee before she rose up again, driving to that ageless rhythm that beat in every human heart. Arousal blushing lovely on her cheeks as she found the pace of instinct for herself, and his hands on her delightful derrière had hardly to do more than hold on lest she slip away.

"'ts been a while, little rose." Difficult to speak, to tear away enough attention from the carnal pleasures coursing through his mind. The words of warning gasping roughly between lips already parted. "Ain't sure how long I'm gonna last." Already he could feel the manic nearness of release, the voiceless urging in his gut that bade him only faster, harder, stronger. Wanting just to flip her over on the bed, climb on top and pound into her waiting body with the force and fury of a rutting beast, pin her shoulders to the covers as he unleashed on her the pent-up passion of all his months without relief. A struggle to content himself with her more leisured pace, to endure the subtle torment of a deed not quite so swift as the need in him demanded. A grudging effort, too, to face the thought which blew in chilly from such reason as he still possessed, of what might happen if he spent himself inside her; the warning came just thin, reluctant, with a taste of ashes on his tongue. "We oughta...we gotta stop. You don't want to end up carryin' a child."

She stiffened for a moment at the words, froze, as though the notion of it had not even crossed her mind. But it was excitement that sparkled in her eyes as she gripped his shoulders tighter, that tingled breathless in her voice as she moved again upon him even faster than before. "I do so." Her dulcet tones singing so delightful in his mind, like the sirens to Odysseus. Her messy rosewood locks bouncing up around her face as she rode stride his lap. A fervent murmur, glowing, pleading, rejoicing. "I want it, pa. I want to be your woman. I want to be your wife." A nervous thrill of feeling down his spine to hear her speak the word, to see her lean in close again, her angelic, freckled features now softly glistening with sweat. To watch her biting gently for a moment at her lower lip, stifling another blissful whimper as she impaled herself upon his shaft, as he felt her sweetness wrapping tight and warm around. "...everything, pa, all of it." Foreheads touched together. Those eyes so wide and beautiful, muddy pools of green. "Make me yours."

"You don't know what you're sayin', little rose..." Groaning. But they were only words, only just a distant thought, a twinge of what reflection might have counseled. Little power, placed beside the image of it in his mind, the vision of her slender belly showing just the early bulge of motherhood. The moment that he could so clearly see, of standing there behind her, stroking down along that mild, maternal curve to feel the life inside, the blessing that they'd made together. That he'd given her to carry, this marvel of a girl...his manhood ached inside her, stiff and hard as iron. His hand behind her neck, holding her in place to kiss her deep and rough, devouring those soft, delicious lips, tasting the quiet explorations of her tongue. Squeezing her exquisite body tight against him as he twisted on the bed to trap her half beneath him, to force her legs still wider, to pound into her hungry passage with all the lust and wanting that had been burning in his loins. Drinking up the sweet and subtle cries that tumbled softly from her throat, as thought met its demise beneath the instincts of an age before. The thick and pungent scent of their exertions filled up the little room, collected hazy in his consciousness. His arm jealously possessive around her back, protective of his prize, feeling every tremor as it shivered up her spine. Frantic nothings whispered, screamed into his mouth, her ragged fingernails scraping at his back, strong and slender hips pushing eagerly against his every thrust...

It hit him like a note of distant thunder, like explosives in a mine, a rumble in the gut. A deep and urgent grunting seeking out his lips as he thrust with all his strength into her depths, as feeling flooded through his nerves like fire, like ice, muscles clenching tight around her body in a quaking spasm. That moment past description, where consciousness was briefly shattered by sensation, thought consumed on pleasure's pyre, where he was the master of the world, and this girl, this woman was his queen. His essence shooting deep inside her, a subtle straining of his hips with every salvo - past the haze of lustful triumph in his mind, he could hear her crying out herself, feel her shake and quiver in his arms, taken over by her own peculiar madness, and the senseless shaping of her supple lips upon his skin was another chord of primal satisfaction played amidst the symphony that echoed in his soul.