In Scandal They Wed by Jordan Sophie

Author:Jordan, Sophie [Jordan, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Historical, Regency, Adult, Chick-Lit
ISBN: 9780061579219
Google: fqPkvJ3cWZcC
Amazon: 0061579211
Goodreads: 6603441
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2010-03-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

It was the sound of his voice. The confirmation that he was awake and aware of his actions that turned her to stone in his arms.

If she had taken a moment to consider the matter, she would have realized he no longer slept. Only lost to his touch, to the hunger clutching her body, she had permitted herself to ignore what should have been patently evident.

His breath warmed her neck. “Do you taste as sweet as you feel?”

At the rumble of his voice, she could no longer delude herself. Those words, so deep and throaty, so full of sexual intent, made her feel the fool. Duped and ill-used.

He’d known this would happen. Had planned for it—the very seduction he had threatened.

Anger churned inside her, washed through her in embarrassing heat even as her body responded, arched into his fingers playing in her moist heat, unerringly finding that place—the spot Millie had told her about. Where a woman would forget herself, forget the world around her and dissolve into a puddle of quaking, screaming nerves.

The part of herself she’d never even known existed before Millie told her. Before he found it. Touched her there. His fingertips slid against her, wringing desire from her.

He knew. Of course he knew.

And he used the knowledge to torment her, enslave her. He dragged that tiny nub in small, tight circles until a strangled cry ripped from her throat. Hating him—hating herself—she flew off the bed, lurching upright, coming apart.

He pulled her back down to the bed, working his hand faster between her legs, his face close now, the planes and hollows harsh and relentless in the low glow of firelight.

Moaning, she strained, arched, fisting the bed linens.

“That’s it.” His eyes gleamed down at her with a primal satisfaction as he continued his sensual assault, his fingers stroking her in deep drags.

Her thighs spread of their own volition, parting wider for him.

“Please,” she begged, mindless to what she asked for.

However, he knew—answered her plea by thrusting his finger inside her, filling her in agonizing slowness. In and out he penetrated, pausing to caress and tease the little nub before diving back inside her with a deep surge.

At last she surrendered to the building pressure, exploding, crying out as white-hot waves of sensation rushed through her.

Panting, quivering, she collapsed back on the bed, loosening her fists, convinced she would never be the same, never be right. Never want anything but this—him. Every moment of her life.

He shifted, looming over her, his shoulders a vast shadow above her, darker than the murky air surrounding them.

Cool air rolled over her thighs, brushing the exposed flesh he had just ravaged. She squeezed her legs together, shaming heat crawling over her face at the feel of her own wetness, at how totally she surrendered herself—his bride who had demanded distance and time, who had pledged her love and loyalty to a dead man. What a weak fool she must appear.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I didn’t want this to happen.”

His voice rumbled through the near darkness.

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