Free Miss Foxworth's Fate by Sahara Kelly

Abby.
    God knew he hadn’t intended to. His initial plan had been to withdraw and spend harmlessly onto the grass before reaching his peak. But wild horses couldn’t have pulled him from her burning heat at this moment, and he knew it. Her soft folds had lured him in and captured him within her as surely as the strongest chains.
    He spurted again and again, his orgasm leaving him shuddering and weak, milked dry by her clenching muscles. It was wonderful, incredible, and it took his heart away.
    It was as if by claiming her virginity, he had allowed her to claim his soul. He didn’t want to pull out of her. Ever.
    “Abby,” breathed Philip, panting, as he lay on top of her. “My God, Abby.”
    She was silent beneath him, and for a terrible moment he wondered if he’d killed her.
    Then she grunted. “I can’t catch my breath, Philip,” she said, struggling a little.
    And no wonder. He found himself flat on her chest, squashing her lungs and completely covering her with his large body. He muttered an apology and slid to the side, sighing as his softening cock slipped wetly from between her legs. “Are you all right?”
    She turned her eyes to him, lids heavy with passion and perspiration dewing her upper lip. He touched that lip gently with his fingers. “Define ‘all right’,” she grinned.
    His heart soared. His smile came from his guts somewhere, and his throat clogged. He did the only thing he was capable of at that moment. He leaned over and kissed her. Slow and gentle, this kiss was a special thing, a pledge, a promise, a warm touch of lips to lips.
    She sighed as he withdrew and let him cuddle her against him as the sun danced over their intertwined bodies. “Philip,” she sighed, lazily running her hands over his chest. “That was so...so...”
    “Yes. It was, wasn’t it?” He couldn’t help the note of satisfaction creeping into his voice. He, Philip Ashton, had deflowered Miss Abigail Foxworth, and she’d enjoyed every minute of it. He’d honorably discharged his duties as a man. He’d claimed and pleasured his woman.
    For right now, the world was perfect.
    “Umm...” She hesitated.
    “What, Abby?” His hand traced delicate circles on her hip, gently smoothing and caressing her as his mind purred with satisfaction.
    “I know I am— was —a virgin. I wasn’t experienced at all in this sort of thing. Do...do men mind ?”
    Philip chuckled, feeling Abby’s head rise and fall with his low laughter. “Abby, men don’t mind. Not when it’s a special woman. Our woman. It’s a wonderful thing to share that first time with the one woman who turns us into quivering lumps of lustful porridge.”
    Abby giggled and raised herself up on one elbow. “I do that to you? Turn you into a quivering lump of porridge?”
    “Behold. Breakfast trembles.” He held out one hand, and sure enough there was still a slight shake to it.
    Abby sighed in contentment and settled back onto his chest. “Good. Because you certainly made me quiver. In a lot of interesting places, too.”
    “Did I hurt you, love?” Philip asked the question again, knowing he was not a small man, and worrying for once that his size might not be an advantage.
    “Just a slight pinch. Nothing to worry about. I was so involved in all the other things you were doing, that I barely noticed.”
    Philip sighed with relief.
    “But I must confess something,” she added.
    Philip paused. “What’s that?”
    “I’m hungry. Does this kind of thing always give one an appetite?”
    Philip’s shout of laughter scared the birds from the trees. “Only if you’ve done it right, sweetheart,” he grinned. “Time for our picnic, do you think?”
    “Oh yes. Yes indeed.”
    They sat up on the blanket and Abby reached for her gown.
    Philip stopped her with his arms. “Forget clothes, Abby. You won’t need ‘em. Not for a while. The sun is warm, there’s no one for miles around, and it’s a chance for us to play Adam and Eve. In our own