He kissed her again. "It's all right. Just, keep doing that. Aah… gently."
He stroked the curve of her arse then slid his hand over her thigh and between her legs. She whimpered, this time more in pleasure than fear. Sweet Jesu! He took hold of her wrist.
"Enough for now, or God knows I'll spill my seed."
He drew a deep breath, then another. When he felt in command of himself again, he set to kissing and caressing her, letting her get used to this new intimacy. She trembled at his touch, but now out of desire, her breath coming as ragged as his own. He gently pushed her onto her back and climbed on top of her, pushing her knees apart with his own. There.
When she did not cry out, he paused.
"I thought you were a virgin."
"So I am, I swear." A pause. "You believe me, don't you my love?"
"I want to."
"I swear I was a pure maid, untouched by any man, until tonight. I swear it to be true, on my – on my mother's soul. May God keep her…"
It was the catch in her voice that convinced him. He knew she would not make such a vow lightly.
"I believe you," he murmured in her ear. "My own sweet Jacomina."
He thrust again, as gently as he could, though it cost him nearly all his self-control.
"I have been running around in breeches," she went on, "since I was a girl of twelve, and have ridden astride many times this past year. No wonder it is thought unseemly, if it damages a woman so–"
"Mistress Catlyn?"
"Yes?"
"Be a good wife and let your husband get on with the duties of the marriage bed. Please?"
"Yes, sir."
There were no more words between them, nor were any needed. Two souls, one flesh; it was all the magic he needed.