Everything I Ever Wanted by Jo Goodman

Author:Jo Goodman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2015-11-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

India heard the words with a kind of horror. Had she been able to look anywhere else, she would have, but South's fingers had threaded into her thick hair and cradled her head, preventing any sideways movement. Her mouth remained slightly parted; her eyes remained open. "I am sorry, my lord. I did not mean... that is, I..."

South bent his head and nudged her lips with his. "You don't want me to love you?"

"No... not..." Even as she said it, her thighs were parting wider for him and his hips were lifting and settling, and then he was easing himself inside her. Slowly. With infinite care. So unlike the first time he had come into her that nothing about it was anticipated. Here was gentleness. And cautious attention. For a moment she allowed herself to do nothing but feel. Toward that end India closed her eyes briefly and pressed her lips together. Instead of a sigh, there was a hum of pleasure.

"Are you sorry?" South searched her face. "I hope you are not. I want to love you, India."

"I only meant..."

He kissed her again. "I know what you meant." He could feel her accommodating his entry, conforming to the intimate pressure he brought to bear. She held him snugly, hot and tight. Her body pulsed around him, yet she remained motionless, her dark eyes fixed on his. "Let me," he said against her mouth. "Let me love you."

At first there was only her faint nod; then he began to move, withdrawing once before he sank himself deeply inside her, and that was when she said, "Yes, Matthew."

He groaned softly, aware that she caught the sound of it with her lips. Her arms tightened around him; her hips lifted. He thrust, and then he thrust again. India rose to meet him. South buried his face in the curve of her neck and breathed deeply of the fragrance that was her skin and her hair. Her nails made tracks along his spine and down his arms. His muscles bunched under her touch. She left fire in her wake so that he knew the path her fingers had traveled long after they had moved on.

India let him love her. With his mouth. His hands. His cock. She did not think of what it meant to him, or even of what it meant to her. She did not think at all. These were moments like no other, with the lightness of pleasure upon her, and the sense that nothing mattered so much as giving herself up to them.

When she made small inarticulate sounds at the back of her throat, he pressed her to give them full voice. "I want to hear you," he said. "Let me hear."

When she closed her eyes and would have disappeared into herself, he called her back "Look at us," he said. "See what you do to me."

When she arched under him, her body lifting and tensing and straining for release, he countered with his own. "Yes," he said. "Yes.

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