Golden Chances (Borrowed Brides 1) - Page 48

“Good.” He moved his hands from her back to her front and traced a line from her neck to the embroidered edge of her gown. Anchoring his fingers in the flannel, he ripped the offending garment from neckline to hem. “We won’t be needing this.”

Faith gasped in shock. He had ripped away her nightgown and exposed her nakedness. Her gaze shot up, and she opened her mouth to speak, to tell him what she thought of his barbarian behavior. But the expression of total admiration on his face stopped her. His eyes smoldered. He looked her over from head to toe. She reddened under his scrutiny, but she was warmed and encouraged by it as well. Reese Jordan was seeing what she had to offer and he did not find her lacking. The expression in his eyes gave her confidence, made her bold. He had ripped away her nightgown and uncovered her secret self. There was no reason to hide.

She placed her palms against his chest.

He froze. He hadn’t expected that.

His skin was hot. Incredibly hot. She smoothed her hands lightly over his flesh, searching for those beguiling nipples. The muscles of his chest contracted under her touch, rippling beneath her fingers. Faith found what she had been searching for. She touched them, grazing the buds with her fingertips. The tiny nubs hardened instantly.

Reese bit back a groan. He hadn’t expected that, either. His hands began an exploration o

f their own, leaving her neck, moving lower, mimicking her hands, until they found what they sought. He cupped her breasts, feeling their weight and shape. He smoothed his palms over them, teasing the tips with his thumbs. Her nipples hardened in response.

She closed her eyes. Her teeth caught at her bottom lip. She sucked in a ragged breath.

“Look at me,” he urged. “Look at us.”

Faith forced her eyes to open, forced herself to look.

The sight was shocking yet titillating. Her hands, white against his bronzed chest, teased and toyed with his nipples. His hands, dark against her fair skin, caressed her breasts. The color rose in her cheeks, stained them a vivid scarlet, but she didn’t pull away. Her hands continued to explore, as she copied his movement.

Catching both of her hands in his, Reese dipped his head and trailed his tongue along the crevice between her breasts. She smelled of lavender, perspiration, and woman. The scent of her teased him, taunted him, until the swelling in his groin became almost unbearable. He pushed at one breast, then the other. He touched one nipple with his tongue.

Faith jerked her hands from his grasp and tangled them in his thick black hair, holding his head against her breasts. Her whole body leaped in response as the myriad sensations, like tiny electrical charges, raced through her igniting every nerve ending.

Reese felt the response and concentrated on his task. He touched her with his fingers, tasted her with his tongue, lightly nipped her with his teeth, and sucked with his mouth, lavishing his attention first on one roseate peak and then the other. He worshiped her lovely white breasts, devoting careful consideration to the hard, little points, leaving them moist and gleaming in the lamplight.

He slid his hands down her ribcage, over the slight concave of her belly, into the profusion of curls at the juncture of her thighs. Reese massaged the mound, then probed the soft folds with his fingers, seeking admission to the moist recesses.

Faith clamped her thighs together. The white heat of passion pooled beneath his questing fingers. She was afraid. No one had ever touched her where he was touching. One of his fingers slipped through her defense. It probed the soft, sensitive folds.

She was tight. God, she was so tight. His mind reeled at the thought of entering her. His burgeoning length was rock hard and painful. He wasn’t sure he could wait much longer. He wanted to bury himself in her wonderful depths, to plant his seed in fertile ground.

“How long has it been?” he breathed.

“How long?” she parroted dumbly, unable to comprehend the meaning of his words when his hands were doing such wonderful things to her. She opened her legs a little wider, allowing him access. She moved restlessly, seeking…something.

“Have you…slept…with a man?” He ground out the words. “Lately?”

She shook her head, but in answer or in passion, he couldn’t tell. And he wanted, needed, to know.

“Have you been with a man since your husband died?” Perspiration beaded on his lip with the effort to control his raging desire. He moved his fingers inside her, willing her to answer.

“No!” She gasped at the pleasure-pain his fingers wrought. “Never!”

He had his answer. He withdrew his fingers and crushed her lips with his own. He skimmed her teeth with his tongue and explored her mouth, teasing, tasting.

She kissed him back, eagerly, feverishly following his tongue with hers, learning the rhythm of desire. Her hands fluttered over him, lightly touching, tracing his shoulders, his hair, his rib cage, before resting on his lean hips. She could feel that hard male part of him pressing against her, arrogantly demanding entrance. A raw, aching, need burned where he touched her and spread through her stomach to her breasts. She urged him forward.

The feel of her hands on his sensitive flesh ignited Reese. He moved between her thighs, placed his hands on her waist and pulled her to him. He groaned as she cuddled closer, her body cradling his arousal. His arms and legs quaked with the need for release. She squirmed against him. There was no reason to delay. She was ready.

His lips left hers. He dipped his head and caught one distended nipple in his mouth. He nipped at it, gently, carefully, as he moved his hips closer. Tremors shook his arms as he braced himself above her. He let go of her nipple and rested his forehead against her breast. “Now,” he rasped, “put your legs around me. Now!”

Faith obeyed him instinctively, locking her legs around his waist. He surged forward, into her moist sheath. “God!” He groaned, in ecstasy.

She screamed.

He felt the barrier. “Damn you, damn you, damn you,” Reese repeated the litany of curses as he withdrew slightly, then thrust into her again, harder this time. He filled her completely, shattering the stubborn barrier and all his foolish illusions.

Tags: Rebecca Hagan Lee Borrowed Brides Historical
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