Over and over he thrust into her, wanting to feel her as deeply as he could, and to give Anne back as much as he was taking of her. The sounds escaping her throat, short and so raw in their sound, spurred him on like the loudest cheers he could recall from his jousts. She wanted what Henry had, and knew how to draw it from him. Though as far as Henry was concerned, it was their first time together, he was certainly reaping the benefits of the twist of time that had given her such experience.
In a moment, Henry felt the great swell that signaled his impending climax and was only just able to slow his pace. It was too good to not prolong, and he did so love making his women come first. With a reluctant grunt, Henry lifted himself away from Anne, wincing at the separation. "Turn over," he insisted, helping her to lay on her stomach. Immediately, he fell upon her again, burying himself in her heat once more.