Mastering the Fangirl by Ava Sinclair

Author:Ava Sinclair [Sinclair, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2017-01-12T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“I never really knew what home was, until I found you.”

Princess Amelia, Kings of Autumn

He knew from their correspondence that Emma wasn’t a virgin. But she might as well have been. A short string of one-night stands in her college days had left her feeling diminished. Even now, as he looked into her eyes, Alden could see the shadow of doubt those dead-end liaisons had left, and felt anger at any man who could take the gift of a woman’s affection without returning it. He was progressive enough to believe in a woman’s strength but also chivalrous enough to realize that her feelings were to be handled carefully.

He also knew that as much as Emma had looked forward to this moment, she’d also dreaded it. She’d hidden her identity from him for months all because she was so painfully insecure. He knew to overcome it, he would have to be firm with her.

“Take your clothes off, Emma. You are safe with me.”

He saw her swallow nervously as she reached for the hem of her sweater and dragged it upwards, baring a curvy white midriff above the waistband of her black leggings. When he stepped forward to take the sweater, he briefly met her eyes and nodded his encouragement.

Emma leaned down to remove her boots and socks. She was wearing a pretty black lace bra with a charmingly modest cut just low enough to reveal the creamy swell of her breasts over the rim of dark lace.

She did not look at him as she slid the leggings down and off, and Alden felt his cock stir at the sight over standing there in just her bra and panties. She was chewing her lower lip nervously as she glanced up at him through her long dark lashes.

“You’re wondering what I think,” he said and walked over. “As if it matters.” He smiled down at her as he tilted her chin up with his finger. “If you could see yourself as I do, you’d know that you are a Botticelli goddess with your pale skin and curves. You are the Feminine, my dear. Do you know how rare that is in these times, that sweet softness?”

“I’m nothing special,” she said quietly.

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. There’s a softness that transcends the physical with you,” he said, and leaned down to claim her lips in their first kiss. It was gentle but commanding, and he thrilled to the sound of her moan as her mouth opened to his plundering tongue. She was spearmint sweet, and as his tongue caressed hers, his hands moved down to grasp the bottom he’d spanked the night before. He’d thought about that bottom a lot, had replayed how her generous cheeks had flattened and bounced under his hand, how he’d steeled himself to her cries even as he’d admired the shapely curves of her posterior.

He broke off the kiss, but kept his hands on her bottom.

“You were a bad little girl to not come straightaway after work,” he said.

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