I refuse to stop despite her angry impassioned protests.
“Hush,” I say, slapping her ass lightly. Then I stroke her as I continue to gently probe her. I massage her back and shoulders, and coo softly in her ear.
“Relax, relax, relax.”
Elizabeth was never so gentle with me, but I’m a better lover than she ever was.
It takes some minutes, some terrifying minutes, where Analise screams, “NO!” to me, and I refuse to relent. She will get beyond this idiotic fear, I vow silently to myself.
She tenses even more, the more I probe. A shot of brandy might do her well, but without that, all I can offer her is my tender but firm assurance that her pain will fade away. And as I expect, with little warning, something seems to let go within her, and her whimpering ceases. I shove my finger deeper,
