Barely a Bride (Free Fellows League Book 1) by Rebecca Hagan Lee

Author:Rebecca Hagan Lee [Lee, Rebecca Hagan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: historical romance, Regency romance, bride romance, marriage of convenience, Free Fellows League
Publisher: Amber House Books, LLC
Published: 2015-07-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

“It is important to make travel by coach as enjoyable as possible. And there are a great many pleasurable ways in which to pass the time. Especially during long journeys.”

—Alyssa, Lady Abernathy, diary entry, 04 May 1810

“Shall I kiss it and make it better?” Alyssa whispered, keeping her hand right where it was despite the hot blush she knew colored her cheeks. He was hard beneath her hand and hot, and the intimacy of such a hitherto forbidden touch excited her.

Griff caught his breath. Was it possible? Had he died and gone to heaven? Or had his innocent wife just asked him if she could kiss him in the place he craved it most? “Please,” he managed.

Alyssa leaned forward and kissed him, pressing her soft lips against his mouth. Her kiss was hot and sweet enough to tempt an angel. And he enjoyed it immensely, but it wasn’t the sort of kiss he’d been expecting.

Alyssa pulled him to her until she could press herself against him. She flattened herself against his chest, feeling the heat of his flesh as she deepened the kiss.

The twin points of her breasts pressed into him. Griffin groaned.

Encouraged by his response, Alyssa wrapped her free arm around his neck, forcing him to bend closer. She pressed her other hand harder against the front of his breeches, massaging him in a slow, circular motion that increased the heat and the pressure beneath her palm.

Griffin groaned again. His tongue mated with hers as he showed her what he wanted.

Alyssa continued her exploration. She trailed her hand from his neck, over his shoulders, and down his back as far as she could reach, then trailed it back up again, only this time, she moved over his shoulders, up the nape of his neck, where she buried her fingers in his hair. And when she’d explored every lock of hair on his head, she repeated the procedure, working her way back down his body.

Griff turned on the seat and slipped his free arm around Alyssa’s waist. He kept one arm around her waist, supporting her. He pulled her close, then lifted his other hand from hers. He caught hold of her wrist when she would have pulled her hand away and pressed it back against him, urging her to continue the motion by breaking their kiss long enough to murmur, “Don’t stop.”

His muscles bunched and rippled under her hands as Griffin held her tightly, half-lifting her off the coach seat as he ground his hips against her, rubbing his throbbing erection against her hand. He pulled his mouth away from hers and began to trail hot, wet kisses on her face, her neck, her throat, and over to her earlobes.

“Sweet Alyssa,” Griffin whispered close to her ear, “I want to feel your hands on my flesh. I want to taste you. And have you taste me.”

The muscles in his arms began to quiver. Alyssa felt them through the thin fabric of her chemise. “How?” She breathed the question

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