Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Why did that hit me so deep? With everything swirling around us, why did it matter so much? She’d wanted me years before. She’d been a child. In a lot of ways, so had I. There were no children here. I’d lived a lifetime since the last time I’d seen her. So had she.
For all her innocence, Hope was a woman grown, and she was my wife.
I kissed her slowly. Deep, drugging kisses. Nothing that would scare her. I wasn’t going to rush. I just wanted more. Her heart thundered under my hand as I cupped her breast, the slight curve fitting neatly in my palm. Her nipple beaded at my touch. Hooking my fingers in the strap of her nightgown, I pulled it down, baring her skin, and closed my mouth over her.
A moan slid from her, a little desperate and edged with need. She went stiff beneath my sucking mouth. I didn’t stop, but every cell in my body was alert to the slightest indication she wanted me to.
A push on my shoulder, a sound of hesitation, and I’d end this.
Like the day before, she trembled under my touch. Unlike the day before, I didn’t let her go. I didn’t soothe her down. I sucked harder at that sweet nipple, savoring every gasp, every moan, the pounding of her heart and the strain of her muscles.
Needing more, needing all of her, I pushed aside her nightgown and moved to her other breast, cupping it in my hand, plumping it for my mouth as my lips closed around her.
Her gasp set me on fire. Slowly, giving her time to stop me, my fingers trailed over her ribs, her soft belly, the curve of her hip until they found the heat between her legs.
She was wet. So fucking wet. I could feel it even before I nudged her panties aside. At the touch of my fingertip, she jerked, her eyes flying wide with shock. Fear? Or pleasure?
With a final, lingering swipe of my tongue, I released her breast, propping myself up on one elbow and working my finger against her. Her pupils were dilated, cheeks flushed, breath coming in short pants. My lips brushed over hers, tasting her rising pleasure.
I needed to see her come. I needed to make her come. For me. I had to have that from her. To know I’d given it to her.
I needed her to know I could give her something good. Something that was just for her. Fuck the rest of it. My family, the will, her uncle, the house. Fuck them all. I needed to give her this.
I couldn’t find any words. I kissed her, absorbing every little sound she made as I sank one finger deep into her slick, tight heat. Little begging growls in her throat, her mouth attacking mine, our kiss an anchor as waves of pleasure dragged her under. I wanted to spread her legs wide, to drop between them and put my mouth on her. To suck her clit like I’d sucked her breast.
I also didn’t want to give her a stroke. Later, I’d get my mouth on her later. For now, I drove a second finger beside the first and ground the heel of my palm into her clit. Her hips rocked, her body knowing what it needed even if her mind was drowning. She rode my hand, sucking my tongue, wild beneath me as her orgasm broke.
I pulled my mouth from hers. I wanted to watch. Her eyes, those warm cognac eyes, flew wide with disbelief as her pleasure crested and crashed through her, dragging a keening sound from her throat.
Hope in orgasm was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Making her come once wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
I fought the urge to drive her up again. To give her more. To see that beauty spread over her face again. And again. I couldn’t let her go. Not yet. I kissed her. Soft. Gentle. Slid my hand from between her legs and rolled us, settling her on top of me.
With a sweet, languid sigh she relaxed into me, her heat branding my belly, nudging the tip of my cock. It would be so easy to push down my boxers, slide her panties out of the way and—
Not yet. Hope wasn’t ready for that.
Slowly, she came down from the high of orgasm, her body going stiff, her brain clicking into gear as she realized she was half-naked on top of me, realized my fingers had been inside her, that she’d come apart for me.
With a squeak of embarrassment, she moved to roll off of me. My arm clamped over her back, holding her in place.
“I’ve never done that before,” she confessed in a rush, her lips hot against my neck.
Shock spiked through me. Never? “Hope—I know you said you were a virgin but—you’ve never had an orgasm?”