Read Online The Widow's Auction by Sabrina Jeffries - Free Book Online Page A

on hers.
    He’d tried to be careful before, heedful of the sort of woman she was and sure that she’d stop him at any moment. But now anger rode him, anger and desire and a need to put her silly notions to rest once and for all. So he spared her nothing in that kiss, taking her mouth with all the passion he was capable of, making sure not to blunt the force of his desire in any way.
    But she didn’t seem to mind. Her mouth was eager beneath his, warm and open and yielding. She tugged at his coat until he shrugged out of it, and then she went to work on his waistcoat buttons.
    A haze of need fogged his brain. He filled his hands with her breasts, reveling in the full weight of them, the nipples that pebbled beneath his touch even through the fabric. Oh, God, she was soft. . . and sweet and more woman than he’d ever imagined. He had to taste her or he’d go mad.
    Trailing kisses down her neck, he shoved her chemise off her shoulders and down far enough to bare both breasts–both beautiful, bountiful breasts. They made his mouth water. He dropped to one knee so he could kiss them properly.
    She smelled of lemons and woman–a scent designed to entice. And it was working, too. All he wanted was to lay her out and take her like a savage.
    He settled for taking her breast in his mouth instead, laving it with his tongue, teasing the sweet little nipple with his teeth. When she uttered a groan and arched into him, that only maddened him further. He sucked and caressed her lush breast endlessly, fondling the other with his hand, until he was so aroused he thought he’d erupt right there.
    Bloody hell, he must end this soon, before he did something he regretted, before he cried out her real name.
    Which he now realized he could never do. They might not have lain together, but they’d done and said enough to mortify her for life. So it was best that she think he hadn’t guessed her identity. Then she could return to her real life without embarrassment, repenting only in private the reckless encounter from which she’d escaped by the skin of her teeth.
    But before he thrust her aside, he’d give her something reckless to repent, by God.
    So he slowly slipped his hand under her chemise. . . 

5
    Isobel was already half in ecstasy from what Justin was doing to her breasts. Henry had never even touched her breasts, but Justin made up for it with his wicked lips and flicking tongue. Who would have dreamed it could feel this exciting to have a man’s mouth there? The way he teased and sucked. . . it sent a luscious heat melting down through her belly, down. . . down. . . 
    To where his hand was sliding under her chemise. A thrill of awareness shot through her. He was going to touch her down there , in her secret place. She held her breath, half-afraid, half-eager. But when his finger burrowed through her tangled curls to stroke the flesh already aching for a caress, she thought she’d jump out of her skin.
    The sensations were so intense that she dug her fingers into his shoulders. His mouth grew fierce and devouring on her breast, and his finger. . . oh, dear heaven, his finger! It was inside her, for pity’s sake, delving inside her with a deft stroke that made her gasp. He delved again, more deeply, and she squirmed. It felt so good. Strange, but good.
    Soon he had two fingers inside her and was using his thumb to fondle a sensitive spot that sent her right out of her mind. Ohhh, the things he was doing with those devilish fingers! A tension built between her legs, a tension that he fed with every stroke and caress.
    She’d never imagined such a thing! It was better than kissing, better by far. . . better than anything. . . so very exciting. . . Oh, Lord, now the tension grew almost unbearable, making her strain against him to get more, feel more of those magical fingers.
    Until suddenly the