Wrong Man, Right Kiss (Gage Brothers 2)

“Please, yes. Oh…” She gasped as he penetrated her, firm and slow, pushing in inch by inch, her tender body fighting him. The effort it took to hold back made his every muscle quiver in restraint.

“Ahh, I’m sorry, this is going to hurt you…”

She’d gone motionless beneath him, those trusting, wide eyes clawing at his heart as she clasped his shoulders in a death grip. “Don’t tense against me, don’t fight me,” he cooed, easing back to let her breathe, then carefully guiding himself back in, caressing her nipple tips to incite her relaxation as he gently rocked his hips. “Give yourself to me, Molly. Be mine.”

He thumbed the little pearl above the entry of her sex, and he felt her give him another inch, and another, until he was almost buried to the hilt. Suddenly, with fierce determination, Molly thrust her pelvis up against him and they both cried out in surprise—he barked in pleasure, and she moaned in sudden pain, and they both went utterly still, completely joined, his length pulsing inside her, her body snugly wrapped around him.

He took her breathless little mouth and kissed her fiercely as the compact heat of her body adjusted to his length. Struggling to hold back, his heart thundering in his chest, he threw his head back in ecstasy and finally started to withdraw, enjoying every sliding inch. “So good. You feel so. Good.” He bent down and kissed her, a hot, wild kiss. “Please stay still, baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”

He went back in, and she moaned in pleasure, her fingers clenching his buttocks, urging him on. “It’s okay now. It’s okay. Don’t hold back, Julian.”

“Oh, Molly…you have no idea what you’ve been doing to me….” He rocked his hips gently against hers, the motion slow but deep and incredibly erotic. Excruciating pleasure shot through his system as he continued his rhythmic thrusting, waiting to feel her shudder, waiting for her to come apart in his arms.

Suddenly, their eyes locked, and Molly released an out-of-control moan, her nails biting into his skin as she arched up in pleasure.

She watched him watch her.

She felt like crying, dying, flying.

She thought she’d break when he first entered her, and now the pleasure had overridden anything else.

Julian’s eyes were an inferno of passion, eating her up alive. His hands slid like satin on her skin, over her hips, her rib cage, caressing her breasts. Then he ducked his head once more and his velvet tongue branded every inch of her body until every cell and atom felt alive and fevered.

A sheen of perspiration clung to his forehead, and she ached to lick it up and get drunk on him. High on him. She thrashed under his eyes when their gazes met, glorying in the ravaged way he looked at her, the tender words that tumbled off his lips as he took her, words like adore and want you and killing me.

Inside her being, she overflowed with love for him. Him. She wanted all of him, all of Julian John Gage, as she watched his muscles flexing hard with each move of his powerful body against hers.

And when his rhythm turned erratic, her eyes drifted shut and the passion overtook her. She clutched his bulging shoulders with a soft cry of pure, unrefined bliss, hearing him let loose a growl of his own, and they snapped and twisted together, clutching each other, tense and shaking, and then…seconds later…slumping, relaxed and entwined, they felt as if they were one, at last.

* * *

They couldn’t get enough of each other.

After less than two hours of sleep, Molly awakened to find Julian’s tousled blond head trailing suspiciously down her tummy and heading south, his fingertips sensuously playing between her splayed thighs. Drawing out her wetness, he made her mew in her throat and toss her head back helplessly against the pillow.

When he buried his face in the damp, warm place where his fingers had been, she gripped the sheets at her sides as each hot flick of his knowing tongue set a rampage of sensations loose in her body. She arched and twisted. “Jules, please…” she gasped in the dark. He pushed her to a climax with his tongue, and then he wrapped her legs around his hips and rode her until she was crying out to him in ecstasy.

Less than an hour later, she stirred in bed and searched for his warmth, having somehow been separated from him during sleep. She hooked one leg around his narrow hips and draped her arm around his waist, and as she wiggled to get comfortable, she became aware of the large, prominent erection biting into her hip bone. She stilled, but Julian had already awakened. He groaned and dropped his head in search of her lips in the shadows, and she gave her mouth up to his. Lying on their sides on the bed, he entered her slowly, whispering sweet little nothings in her ears that drove her to a climax that left her gasping for breath and blushing over all the things he said.

They showered together and laughed over “bun-buns” an

d “JJ,” then returned to bed. Then, at 5:00 a.m., while a tiny stream of light filtered through the closed drapes, Molly once again woke up to find herself entangled in Julian’s muscled limbs and his Egyptian cotton bedsheets. She couldn’t seem go back to sleep. She throbbed all over in such a delicious way. Adrenaline and excitement continued coursing through her system, and she couldn’t stop touching him. Kissing him. Smelling his skin, which smelled clean and of his sandalwood soap.

“Jules,” she whispered, going breathless at the excitement of waking up with him. “Are you asleep?”

“Not anymore.” With an arm draped over his eyes as he lay sprawled on the bed, Julian’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his voice groggy and sexy.

Molly sat up and edged closer, waiting for him to stir to action. “I’m still naked,” she said, dropping her voice to a seductive purr.

Dropping his arm and cracking his eyes open, Julian stroked his thumb down the length of her arm, his expression deadly serious. “I know what you’re begging for, Molls.”

Before she could even blink, he’d rolled her over with a lionlike “rawr” that made her squeal and laugh her heart out as he gave her the tickle torture of her life. “Oh, I hate it when you do this, stop it, stop!” she squealed in between hysterical laughs, but he didn’t pause for a whole half a minute—because it wasn’t called torture for nothing. They ended up breathless and grinning from ear to ear when it was finally over.

He turned somber as he gazed down at her flushed features, then he reached out to cup her naked breast and manipulate it as though it were his property to play with. When her nipple responded eagerly, his smile turned wolfish, and a devilish glint appeared in his gaze.

“You sure you can take me?” he said, and bent his head to give her a leisurely good-morning kiss, his seductive lips stirring her senses. “I don’t want you hurting all day.”

She was still breathless from his torture. “Well, I do.”