Jenna Stewart by The Sisters O'Ryan

Author:The Sisters O'Ryan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781622417476
Publisher: Siren Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-09-18T23:00:00+00:00

* * * *

Damn it! He had been the one to say good night, without giving her a chance to suggest a drink in the study or a last comment about the performance.

All night, he’d noticed nothing but her alluring beauty, simplistic in the style of her dress and hair, yet complex in her many gestures, smiles beneath downcast eyes, and nuances of speech. Her accent charmed him. Her knowledge about so many things completely undid him in trying to keep up. Throughout dinner he stared at that ruby cabochon, singular in its color against her alabaster throat, wishing his mouth was there instead. He wanted to kiss her, from her pouty, red lips to her hips, and then cover her pussy with his mouth while he dipped his tongue into her cunt over and over until she came. He wanted to run his fingers over every inch of her and suckle her breasts like a baby while driving into her.

Drew hadn’t exaggerated about the connection between Micah and him. Growing up, they had seemed to know when the other was in trouble or hurt. But evidently their twin bond didn’t extend to sharing physical experiences like sex with Siobhan. He wished it did. If so, he might already know how Siobhan’s body acted in the throes of passion. He’d know how satiny her skin felt beneath Micah’s hands, and the way her hot mouth caressed Micah’s dick when she knelt before him.

As it was, he could only imagine the taste of her cream or the bliss of stroking her nipples while she rode him like the bull she made him feel. Last night those imaginings had driven sleep from his bed and peace from his mind. Now tonight would be the same.

He trudged to the end of the hallway where his empty room waited. He took off his jacket, but even in his distracted state he hung up his clothing neatly in the cupboard. Aching like a stallion without a mare was no reason to be careless with one’s things. Sometimes he wished he could be more like Micah, throwing caution to the wind and abandoning himself to wild adventure without analyzing each step.

He sat to remove his shoes and then pulled off his suspenders and tie. Next came his cuffs and collar. He stared at himself in the mirror. A buttoned-up man—literally—stared back. A man who lusted after his brother’s wife, who felt empty without her, and who knew that fucking any other woman would leave him just as empty.

Hell, he needed a drink. In rebellion, he removed the studs from his shirt. He would go to the study in dishabille, and to hell with the rules.

He walked up the hall, making no noise in his stocking feet. When he opened the door, he sensed right away that he wasn’t alone. Sure enough, Siobhan sat in a leather chair, her head back. She held a whiskey glass with about a three finger’s worth of amber liquid, and she

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