Marriage, Bravo Style! by Christine Rimmer

Marriage, Bravo Style! by Christine Rimmer

Author:Christine Rimmer
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2011-06-24T16:00:00+00:00


Elena gasped as he parted the curls that covered her mound. She felt…revealed by him, somehow. Revealed to him, though he was behind her and couldn’t see what his fingers were doing to her, though she still wore her panties and her jeans, as well.

Still, she felt known in an intimate, purely sexual way, for the first time.

And it felt so good, so exciting. So exactly as she had fantasized it might.

Oh, yes. Exactly.

Only better. Even better.

His clever, slightly rough, wonderful fingers moved lower still, between the secret folds of her most private flesh—not entering her. Not yet. Just…touching her, discovering her, stroking her, where she was wet and hot and slick, yearning for him.

Her whole body had gone electric and shimmery. A floating, glittery feeling. Like rays of sunlight flickering on the surface of a glassy pond. Her breasts ached in a wonderful, hungry way—the same as she ached in the slick, yearning place where he was touching her. An ache of pure pleasure, building. Gathering….

So right, so good, the way he touched her. And she loved the feel of him, of his big, strong body behind her, supporting her.

And teasing her, too, with the way he rubbed himself against her, with the simple proof of his wanting her—she could feel that also, feel the hard ridge of him through his boxers, through her jeans. It was pressing into her, making her ache even more deliciously, making her mindful of what was to come.

And down where he touched her…

Oh, that was something. She moaned deep in her throat as he went further, as he eased one clever finger inside. Her body tightened at that first small invasion.

But then she sighed. And she realized how good it felt, how perfectly right and natural. Her body opened enough to ease the way.

One finger…

And then another.

And then he was moving his hand, stroking her, doing impossible, lovely, stimulating things.

She arched against him, sliding her hands behind her, under his arms and around him, so she could grasp his hard, muscular hips and pull him closer, tighter to her. So she could feel him more acutely, there at the small of her back, at the same time as his fingers worked their magic on her, stroking her, arousing her so completely.

She was lost, oh yes.

Lost in the most perfect, delicious way. Every cell in her body was vibrating, as she moved her hips against his stroking hand and she felt that shimmer of pleasure gathering into itself, tighter, more focused, building to something so perfect.

And then he touched the little bud of flesh at the top of her sex. He rubbed it with his thumb.

And that did it. That carried her up and over the crest. She shut her eyes, held his hips even tighter, closer against her. She tossed her head wildly on his shoulder, cried out his name.

He stayed with her, stroking her with those knowing fingers of his, as the pleasure burst wide open and she shuddered and moaned.

And then, as the wonder faded down to a golden glow, he skimmed off her jeans and her little panties, too.



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