Barely a Bride (Free Fellows League 1)

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked.

He also discovered that he liked teasing her. “And what might that be?”

“It’s your turn.”

“How could I forget?” Turning his attention back to her breasts, Griffin dipped his head and trailed his tongue along the valley between them, licking at the tiny beads of perspiration he found there. Moving closer, Griff cupped one smooth, satiny globe in his hand and touched his lips to the rosy center.

Alyssa sucked in a breath at the wonderful sensation his tiny kiss evoked. Desire gripped her. She tangled her fingers in Griffin’s thick, dark hair and held his head to her breasts. “More,” she ordered.

Griffin obliged. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils. It was warm and inviting—a mixture of old roses and fresh lavender—and it was all Alyssa.

Griff took the time to savor her, despite her urgent command for more. He touched and tasted and gently nipped at the hard bud with his teeth. And then he suckled her, careful to give equal time to each perfect globe, and Alyssa thought she might die of the pleasure as her nerve endings became gloriously alive and sent tiny electrical currents throughout her body, igniting her responses. He continued at a leisurely pace, working his way from the rosy aureole of her breasts, down into the valley between them, the soft rasp and moisture of tongue igniting little brushfires wherever he touched her.

He tasted the skin above her rib cage, trailed his tongue over her abdomen, circling her navel before dipping his tongue into the indention. And while Griffin tasted her with his tongue, he teased her with his fingers.

Skimming his hands over the sensitive flesh covering her hipbones and outer thighs, Griff felt his way down her body, finally locating and tracing the deep grooves at the juncture of her thighs with the pads of his thumbs.

Easing his way ever closer, Griffin massaged the womanly flesh surrounding her mound and then tangled his fingers in the lush brown hair covering it.

Alyssa reacted immediately, opening her legs ever so slightly to allow him greater access. She couldn’t seem to get close enough to him. Her anticipation rose to a fever pitch. She began to quiver and make little moaning sounds of pleasure as he t

raced the outer edge of her folds with his finger before gently plunging his finger inside until Alyssa squirmed. She arched her back to bring herself into closer contact with Griffin.

Griffin gritted his teeth. The slick warm feel, the smell of her perfume, and the scent of her arousal nearly drove him mad. The swelling in his groin grew until he was rock hard and close to bursting. He was naked. She was naked. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to have her.

He had to feel himself inside her, feel her surrounding him, feel them joined together the way men and women were meant to be joined. He sat up and positioned himself between her thighs. He ached with the need for release. He throbbed with the need for satisfaction. It was there within his grasp. All he had to do was…

Stop, Griffin realized. He had to stop before he reached the point where he couldn’t. Squeezing his eyes shut, he prayed for the strength to stop.

And the gods heard his prayers, for the coach bounced through a rut in the road, jostling the occupants and banging Griff’s head against the paneling.

He saw stars. And in that brief moment, he forgot about his need for release. All he felt was pain. And gratitude.

The knock on the head brought him to his senses, reminding him that he was the fool who had set the rules of the game. And he would not break them.

He would not tumble his bride in a coach on the post road to Abernathy Manor.

And that meant that it was time he delivered on his promise to give only pleasure. Time to give Alyssa her first real understanding of the delights of lovemaking. So that she might spend the remainder of the journey anticipating their arrival at the manor and the culmination of the hours spent learning the game of seduction.

He slid his fingers inside her.

Alyssa sighed her pleasure, thrusting against him as he touched her in ways she could not have imagined.

“Griffin?” Her voice was higher than normal, her breathing ragged.

“I’m with you, my lady.” Griffin skimmed the pad of his thumb through her slick womanly folds and pressed against the hard little bud hidden there.

Alyssa’s eyelids fluttered open, then closed again. Somewhere inside the coach a tiny bell began to chime. Alyssa gasped.

Griffin ignored the sound of the chime and focused all of his attention on his bride. He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his own before increasing the exquisite pressure—with his lips and tongue and with his fingers. He kissed her tenderly, fiercely, possessively, hungrily, then tenderly once more, over and over again, skillfully plying his talented fingers until he felt her scream her pleasure as she shuddered against him.

Chapter Nineteen

“I have discovered that honeymoons are worth all the fuss and bother of planning the wedding that precedes them.”

—Alyssa, Lady Abernathy; diary entry, 05 May 1810

“Is it my turn already?” Alyssa opened her eyes and found her husband cradling her in his arms. She stretched like a cat, arching her back, luxuriating in the aftermath of an exquisite release of the tension Griffin had managed to build within her. The tips of her breasts brushed against the hair of his chest, and his insistent male member rubbed against the soft flesh of her hip.