Penelope and Prince Charming by Jennifer Ashley

Author:Jennifer Ashley [Ashley, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-01-24T02:56:14+00:00

When he inserted a third finger, she made a soft noise and made to squeeze against him. He stroked the inside of her abdomen, slight pressure only, and her eyes widened.

"Damien?"

"Hush, love. Let me make you feel good."

She rose up on her elbows, her face flushed. "But I do not understand—" He stroked, lightly again, and she began to come, jerking silently against his hand, her breath ragged. Quickly he slid his fingers out, positioned his tip at her opening, and slid himself al the way inside.

Penelope drew a sharp breath at the invasion. He was hard and thick and blunt and stretched her unbearably. It did hurt a little, but something within her wanted the hurt, wanted the joining.

She stil throbbed from where he'd stroked his fingers inside her, which had sent her to strange and unbearable heights of pleasure. She did not know what he wanted, or what she wanted, or what her body wanted. He lay on top of her, stil , his weight warm. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the hand that was tied to hers clenched her fingers tight.

"Damien," she whispered.

He dragged his eyes open. "Shh, sweetheart."

His face was flushed, eyelids heavy, like he was drunk. She felt him ful inside her, his arousal pulsing with his heartbeat.

"Is this lovemaking?" She smoothed his hair. "Is it over?"

"Do you want it to be over?"

"No. Not yet. Not for a while."

He gave her a lazy smile. "It wil not be. We have a long way to go." The idea both frightened her and entranced her. She lay back, holding the hand bound to hers, waiting for him to proceed. Sweat trickled from between their wrists, palms sealed together. The room was close and stil , the windows shut against the summer's soft air. Petri, she knew, stood nearby, guarding them. She wondered about the passage that led from her room to Damien's, but somehow she had a feeling that Damien had provided a guard for that, too. The Nvengarians were thorough. And yet, the creature had gotten into the house, into the bal room, and attacked Damien. She remembered its twisted face, its sunken eyes, though she sensed it was not old. And, if she had not imagined it, she thought that when the being took in the mass of people screaming and fighting it, and herself staring over Damien's shoulder, it had looked—

confused.

The thought drifted in the very back of her mind, to be examined later. The front of her thoughts kissed Damien, loving the feel of him in her mouth, of him inside her.

He slowly drew himself out, then, just before the tip left her opening, he slid himself back inside, even farther this time.

Her sudden cry rang to the ceiling. He moved again, out, in, stroking her slowly. She dug her fingers into his back, as she had done in the river, but this time, she gripped so tight she felt her nails break his skin. He made a soft noise of pain, but did not stop.

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