Rancher's Wife by Anne Marie Winston

Author:Anne Marie Winston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1995-01-16T16:00:00+00:00

Seven

She was like a twisty little mustang in his arms, writhing and heaving, trying to throw him off. The challenge fired his blood, and as he pinned her against him, he increased the intensity of the kiss, teasing her with his tongue until she quit bucking. Then, in a capitulation as unexpected as it was total, her body softened and she allowed him to pull her closer.

Immediately he took advantage of the concession, slanting his mouth more fully over hers and slipping his tongue deep inside. She squirmed against him and he released her hands, sliding his palm down her back to curve under her buttock and drape one leg over his thigh in a blatant intimacy that his body recognized and swelled to meet.

He kept one arm beneath her neck and slid backward, taking her with him across the seat, then slowly he eased her down until she lay almost full-length on the rough fabric bench. Her breasts were an enticement he’d resisted since the night in her room, and he knew he had to touch her. The blouse she wore was a pretty, ruffled thing with full sleeves and a wide, low collar; the promise of warm flesh beneath it made his fingers shake as he fumbled with the slippery buttons. The pace was fast and furious. She began to work open the buttons from the bottom up, baring creamy skin and a wisp of lacy brassiere so skimpy and transparent that he couldn’t believe it had any useful purpose.

He wanted to comment on it, to tease her about her choice of lingerie, but his body was pulsing, pounding, the blood rushing through his temples, and no words would come. With a low groan, he inserted a finger in the shadowed valley between her breasts and tugged the bra down, trapping her arms in layers of strap and sleeve, baring her torso for his plunder.

She froze. So did he. In the moonlight that poured through the windshield, he could see that she was perfectly shaped, with high round breasts from which tiny nipples thrust forward in invitation. He held up his hand, palm out, and brushed it lightly back and forth, from one crest to the other.

She sucked in a sharp gasp, and the slender leg he’d drawn up over his thigh tightened around him. Anticipation twisted a knot tighter and he shifted, trying to relieve the discomfort in his jeans.

It didn’t help.

His body knew what it wanted, and he eased his weight against her until his erection was pressed flush against her spread thighs. She whimpered. He groaned, thrusting forward rhythmically. Through the fabric of their clothing, the sensation was a sweet torment. His attention was claimed again by her exposed breasts, her pale flesh gleaming in the dim light. He lowered his head and took one nipple in a strong suckle.

She reacted as if he’d applied an electric shock. Her body jerked and she screamed. Her hands speared into his hair and forced him even closer.

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