Read Online Emily's Seduction by Natasha Blackthorne - Free Book Online Page B

good deal if she would allow a kiss. And then he touched her cheek and tilted her face up to his. His gaze was as heated and piercing as Alex’s had ever been. He wanted to kiss her as badly as she wanted it. That shocked her. She had never guessed that he desired her. She had thought all his teasing was to be kind.
    His lips touched hers. Strong yet soft. And he kissed very differently from Alex—not seeking domination but communion. He held both her hands now, tenderly, almost romantically as he continued to kiss her with a soft intensity. When she returned his pressure, he released her hands and let her take over the kiss.
    The realisation of her power was heady. She pressed his chest and then let her hands slide up to his broad, powerfully muscled shoulders. She opened her mouth and allowed her tongue to trace the seam of his lips. His mouth opened and in the next second their tongues were touching. She thrust hers at him and he answered her with light, feathery, unhurried strokes, warm, velvet moisture that sent pure fire down her belly and into her cunt. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, his crisp, starched linen shirt crinkling under her hands. God, he kissed like an angel would. She couldn’t get enough of it. She turned her head to get a better angle and she plunged deeper and it was sweeter yet. Wetness surged from her quim and she moaned in her throat.
    He answered with a groan, his hands cupping her face. She moved her hands from his shoulders to twine them in his hair. It was as soft as thistledown. She pulled back for a breath and his tongue followed hers, caressing it outside of their mouths as they both gasped for air. At the pure sensuality of the moment, she moaned. The sound echoed loudly over the steady thudding of her heart. She caught her breath. Then she returned for another taste of his kiss.
    Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.
    It was so unbearably sweet. Like wine and honey and the smell of a May afternoon. Like ripe strawberries during that one week in late spring. She turned her head again and drank even more deeply from him.
    His hands were shaking on her. His cock throbbed beneath her. Her inner lips swelled and wetness flowed between them. She moaned again and squirmed in his lap. He touched her breast, his trembling fingertips lightly grazing her excited peak and then moving to the other one. Her arousal reached painful proportions. The wetness was pouring from her now; she knew she was wetting the leg of his breeches. He had to know it.
    He broke their kiss. “Touch your pretty quim, sweetheart.”
    “What?”
    He kissed her, deeply yet swiftly, then tore his mouth away. “I can’t touch you there, it is against the rules.”
    “Oh.” She didn’t think she could do that . Not here.
    His hand moved in a circular path on her belly. Her flesh quivered.
    “Go on, give yourself pleasure. I would dearly adore having you come in my arms.”
    His fingertips traced along the inside her thigh. Knowing now that he wouldn’t, couldn’t touch her where she most wanted to be touched made her need it all the more. Her nub grew erect and throbbing. She rocked herself on his leg, feeling the corded muscles beneath the wool, and it only increased the ache, increased the wetness.
    She slid her hand down to caress her lower belly, as if she could ease her rapidly growing tension by doing so. His hands teased her nipples again and the ache in her cunt became pain. Her whole body quaked with hunger.
    Almost of their own accord, her fingers brushed her nub once. Pleasure and relief washed over her and she drew in a shuddering breath. She did it again and again and soon she was rubbing herself with firm, steady pressure. Practically bouncing up and down on his leg. His hands were still on her breasts, tweaking her nipples harder now. His breath sounded as harsh. Her tension rose to unbearable levels. Her cries, sounded like some feline in an alley.
    Oh, God, it was always so hard to come this way. It