Read Online Cinderella Christmas by Elda Minger - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elda Minger
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was. Then when he turned on the light, he’d be shocked to discover it was her.
But he wouldn’t be able to deny that she and Darcy were one and the same.
“Nick,” she said again, a little louder. She was so close he could reach out and touch her. When he did, when he took hold of her arm and pulled her toward him, she didn’t resist. She couldn’t.
This was what she’d been waiting for, needing, obsessing over. There was no man on this earth who could make her feel the way Nick did. He could do more to her with a simple touch than another man could with his whole body.
She didn’t protest when he eased her down on the large bed and threaded his fingers through her hair. Eve moaned softly when he kissed her and it was exactly the way she remembered it, the flash fire of desire that sprang up between them so effortlessly. He only had to touch her to completely weaken her resolve.
Eve had wanted to tell him the truth, but as he took her mouth she knew the only way she could convey what she’d done and what she felt for this man was with her body.
Explanations could wait for the morning. Right now they were in their own little world where no one could interrupt them. They had all the time they needed to let their bodies express what words could never adequately convey.
#
He couldn’t stop kissing her.
He’d been dreaming of Darcy, he’d been making love with her and halfway through she’d turned into Eve, on top of him, looking down at him, kissing him with a passion so unlike her. But he’d answered that passion in his dream and made love to her with a ferocity and then a tenderness that had expressed the way he felt about her.
He’d come awake so hard, so restless with desire, so full of a raging frustration that the woman he wanted above all others was a room away and only a thin wall separated him from the source of his arousal, from the satisfaction he craved that only she could give him.
Then he’d heard her come in and everything had clicked for him. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Eve was a smart woman. She’d never come into his bedroom if she didn’t feel the same way. She respected boundaries. She certainly wouldn’t sit down on his bed. She wouldn’t say his name with that soft voice, a voice so intimate and personal, for his ears alone.
One kiss, two, three . . . His hands were already coming up underneath her nightgown, he couldn’t stop himself from touching her all over as he stripped the flimsy garment off her lush body and pulled her beneath him. There was a roughness in the way he handled her, as if it had been too long since he’d been free to touch her and he had to touch her, over and over again, to ensure she was here with him, in this bed, in this room, his alone.
Her breathy little cries worked like an aphrodisiac on his already overheated libido. Though in a perfect world he would’ve liked to have taken his time, lit candles, drank some champagne, even talked, it wasn’t going to happen tonight. This was a night for rediscovery, for finding out if what they’d had together that one night had really existed or been all in their minds.
But the moment their bodies touched they went up in flames. It wasn’t the same between them as it had been that first night – it was better.
She moaned against his mouth as his hand smoothed over her belly, then lower, urging her thighs apart. He felt that hot wetness that told him she was more than ready for him and quickly moved between her spread legs. She cried out and clutched his back as he slid deeply into her, taking her, letting her know with every move of his body that she was his and he was never, ever letting her go.
She came quickly and he followed right after her, breathing deeply as if he’d run a long way and was finally home. His head tucked firmly against her neck, he rested his weight on his elbows for a moment, then rolled to his side, taking her with him.
He’d let her set the pace. Whatever she
But he wouldn’t be able to deny that she and Darcy were one and the same.
“Nick,” she said again, a little louder. She was so close he could reach out and touch her. When he did, when he took hold of her arm and pulled her toward him, she didn’t resist. She couldn’t.
This was what she’d been waiting for, needing, obsessing over. There was no man on this earth who could make her feel the way Nick did. He could do more to her with a simple touch than another man could with his whole body.
She didn’t protest when he eased her down on the large bed and threaded his fingers through her hair. Eve moaned softly when he kissed her and it was exactly the way she remembered it, the flash fire of desire that sprang up between them so effortlessly. He only had to touch her to completely weaken her resolve.
Eve had wanted to tell him the truth, but as he took her mouth she knew the only way she could convey what she’d done and what she felt for this man was with her body.
Explanations could wait for the morning. Right now they were in their own little world where no one could interrupt them. They had all the time they needed to let their bodies express what words could never adequately convey.
#
He couldn’t stop kissing her.
He’d been dreaming of Darcy, he’d been making love with her and halfway through she’d turned into Eve, on top of him, looking down at him, kissing him with a passion so unlike her. But he’d answered that passion in his dream and made love to her with a ferocity and then a tenderness that had expressed the way he felt about her.
He’d come awake so hard, so restless with desire, so full of a raging frustration that the woman he wanted above all others was a room away and only a thin wall separated him from the source of his arousal, from the satisfaction he craved that only she could give him.
Then he’d heard her come in and everything had clicked for him. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Eve was a smart woman. She’d never come into his bedroom if she didn’t feel the same way. She respected boundaries. She certainly wouldn’t sit down on his bed. She wouldn’t say his name with that soft voice, a voice so intimate and personal, for his ears alone.
One kiss, two, three . . . His hands were already coming up underneath her nightgown, he couldn’t stop himself from touching her all over as he stripped the flimsy garment off her lush body and pulled her beneath him. There was a roughness in the way he handled her, as if it had been too long since he’d been free to touch her and he had to touch her, over and over again, to ensure she was here with him, in this bed, in this room, his alone.
Her breathy little cries worked like an aphrodisiac on his already overheated libido. Though in a perfect world he would’ve liked to have taken his time, lit candles, drank some champagne, even talked, it wasn’t going to happen tonight. This was a night for rediscovery, for finding out if what they’d had together that one night had really existed or been all in their minds.
But the moment their bodies touched they went up in flames. It wasn’t the same between them as it had been that first night – it was better.
She moaned against his mouth as his hand smoothed over her belly, then lower, urging her thighs apart. He felt that hot wetness that told him she was more than ready for him and quickly moved between her spread legs. She cried out and clutched his back as he slid deeply into her, taking her, letting her know with every move of his body that she was his and he was never, ever letting her go.
She came quickly and he followed right after her, breathing deeply as if he’d run a long way and was finally home. His head tucked firmly against her neck, he rested his weight on his elbows for a moment, then rolled to his side, taking her with him.
He’d let her set the pace. Whatever she
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