Winning Lord West (Dashing Widows 3) - Page 26

“Curse you, you’ll get there,” he snarled, urgency roughening his voice. He changed the angle of his caresses and lowered his head to the curve between her neck and shoulder.

As he bit down hard, pain and pleasure collided in a fiery crash. Helena cried out in wonder. The world shattered around her, and she crossed the barrier into glory.

Free. She was finally free. And swooping and dipping and rolling among the stars. The view from paradise was extraordinary. As her blood lit to unquenchable fire, she shivered and squirmed. And as she wafted down from that blazing peak, even the embers were beautiful.

After a long time, she opened dazzled eyes to see West beside her, leaning on his elbow. A lazy smile hovered around his lips.

She rose to kiss him with all the poignant gratitude she felt.

He looked startled. “What was that for?”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”

She struggled for some way to describe the experience. “That was even better than a good gallop.”

He burst out laughing and flopped back onto the sheets. “Hel, you’re priceless.”

Helena frowned, although she felt too marvelous for genuine displeasure. For years, she’d closed more and more of herself away, until a hard little ball of hurt and hate and self-pity lodged in her chest instead of a heart. Those miraculous moments when West had set her flying let her breathe for the first time since she was a carefree girl. “And you’re a lunatic.”

His green eyes glittered as he sucked in an unsteady breath. “No argument there.” Another breath. “Actually that counts as high praise from horse-mad Helena Nash.”

He?

?d used her maiden name. As if they returned to those sweet days when she’d been in his thrall. Before she’d decided dark, dangerous Lord Crewe was the most exciting man she’d ever met.

How tragically wrong she’d been.

“It was a compliment,” she said.

“I’m sure.” His tone was dry.

He rose above her and kissed her with a serious intent that his tone belied. His legs tangled with hers, and his hips pressed her into the mattress with sensual purpose. She shifted and felt his powerful hardness against her belly. Interest sparked anew, although surely she’d received her measure of delight.

When he stroked her slick cleft, she raised her knees. She didn’t expect more of that transcendent pleasure, but she didn’t mind. She wanted West inside her. She wanted to offer him a share of the delight he’d given her.

His back tensed under her hands, then with a smoothness she hardly believed, he thrust inside her.

“West,” she gasped in shock, opening her eyes wide. He looked powerful and intent—and strained. At last she saw how the leisured seduction had tested his control.

He rested on his elbows and looked down at her. “Am I hurting you?”

Helena wriggled, feeling him settle inside her, hard and purposeful. “No.”

“Not too big?”

A smile tugged at her lips. How flustered she’d been. How silly. Right now, she felt magnificently full, as though he laid claim to every inch. “Perfect.”

He kissed her again. After they’d married, Crewe hadn’t been interested in much beyond his own relief. He hadn’t wasted time on kissing.

She’d missed out.

“Hold on.”

With uncharacteristic obedience, she clutched West’s broad shoulders. His skin was hot and satiny against hers. His masculine musk imbued every breath she took. Instinctively she tightened.

His eyes darkened, and a muscle flickered in his hard cheek. “Merciful God.”

Tags: Anna Campbell Dashing Widows Romance
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