Read Online The Pleasure King's Bride by Emma Darcy - Free Book Online

only important thing was she’d never known this deep an arousal with any other man. It was as unique to her as it was to him and right now she needed to be reassured.
    “No. Nothing wrong. Just too fast. You would have had me coming before I could make it special for you,” he gently explained.
    “Oh!”
    He felt her cheek warm and to nullify any embarrassment he’d stirred, he bent and ran his tongue over the inner tissue of her parted lips. Then he kissed her slowly, sensually, determined on keeping urgency at bay, wanting to show her how it could be for them, making love.
    He dropped his hand to her shoulder and gradually stretched the low neckline of her dress, shifting the bodice down below one elbow so he could lift her arm out of it, effectively baring her breast. She moaned as he filled his hand with the soft, yielding fullness of her naked flesh, and to his ears it was the sound of longing.
    Sensing he had done what she wanted done to her, he bent and covered the dark areola with his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, lashing the distended nipple, tugging lightly on it with his teeth, exciting himself as her breathing quickened and he gently squeezed her breast in a pumping action. She clutched at his head, urging him on, emitting sexy little cries of intense pleasure.
    She wanted more, was begging for more. He dragged the rest of her bodice down, freeing her other breast, and she actually grabbed his head and moved it across, expelling a ragged sigh as he answered the raging desire, working the deep, sensual magic he knew was coursing through her, building the ache, building the need, using his hand to keep the sensations flowing through both her breasts, and when she wrapped her legs around him and arched back, he knew she was teetering on the edge of climax.
    He wound his arms around her, scooped her off the balustrade and crushed her to him, loving the naked moistness between her thighs rubbing against his bare stomach as he carried her, his face buried in the deep valley between her breasts, revelling in her lush femininity.
    “Jared... what... where?” She was disoriented, confused, hanging onto his head.
    “Going to turn off the light above the table,” he explained.
    “Oh! Was it...was it like that for you when I...when I...?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’ve never felt like this.” She sounded dazed, disbelieving.
    “Neither have I.”
    It was the truth. He was seized with an all-consuming desire to give her everything she’d never known, for him to be the one she would always remember, her first real lover. And the one man she’d want to keep in her life, the one she couldn’t resist sharing herself with.
    He closed the front door, blocking any sound from carrying through the house, switched off the pool of light thrown by the lantern and spread Christabel across the table.
    “What are you doing?” she gasped in bewilderment.
    “Freeing my hands so I can finish taking off your dress.”
    She laughed in surprise, wriggling to help him. “Your shorts, too. I want you as naked as me.”
    He swiftly removed his remaining clothes, then slid her dress down her legs, ridding her feet of sandals at the same time.
    “Touch your breasts, Christabel,” he softly advised her as he parted her legs and moved between them, stroking her inner thighs. “Feel them as I felt them. Know them as I did...beautiful, sensual, full of womanly excitement. Do it as I do this....”
    Very gently he moved his caressing to her moist lower lips. “Close your eyes. Think only of feeling,” he murmured, swooping down to kiss and stroke and tease into intense arousal the most intimate part of her, spreading one hand through the silky hair above it to hold her still for him, sliding the other down the softly swollen folds, deepening the caress, circling the passage inwards, feeling the convulsive clutch of her muscles as he moved his mouth over and around the peak of excitement and breathed in the musky scent of her rash