The Plain Bride by Chasity Bowlin

The Plain Bride by Chasity Bowlin

Author:Chasity Bowlin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chasity Bowlin


CHAPTER FOURTEEN

If anyone had told him that the plainly dressed vicar’s daughter would be such a passionate creature, he would have thought them mad. There was shyness, yes, but also eagerness and a willingness to be guided that left him trembling as he battled his own need for her.

Above all things, he would make the night pleasurable for her. He would allow her to see what passion and desire could truly make one feel. With that thought uppermost in mind, he placed one hand over the lush curve of her breast. The softness of that flesh, the weight of it in his hand, ratcheted his own need to a torturous level, but still he ignored it. Instead, he dragged the pad of his thumb over the hardened peak of her nipple and was rewarded with a shattered moan from her.

He repeated the gesture, each touch slightly different, each one driving her farther along that path to true completion. But when he dipped his head and took that pebbled bud into his mouth, her hands delved into his hair, holding him to her as she cried out. It was a moment of perfection for him, a moment that would be committed to memory for all time. Was there any greater victory in all his wretched life than to bring an innocent beauty to the fruition of passion and pleasure?

With that thought upper most in his mind, he continued to lavish attention on her sensitive nipples—laving with his tongue, nipping with his teeth—and as he did so, he began to slide his hand over her hips, along the long line of her thigh. He stroked her flesh with gentle persuasion until he could slip his hand between her thighs.

She stiffened beneath him, but only for a second. Then she took a deep, shuddering breath and parted for him, welcoming him.

He brushed the dark curls there, gently coaxing a response from her. And when she let out a broken sigh, only then did he slip one finger between the folds of her sex. The wet heat that greeted him had him gritting his teeth even as he stroked her tender flesh. Finding the small, taut nub that would quickly bring her to release, he watched her every response to determine what it was that she needed. Speed, intensity, the firmness or gentleness of his touch—he tailored it to her response, and the reward was her body straining beneath him, her thighs trembling as the pressure built within her.

“What are you doing to me?” she asked, her voice hoarse and breathless as she arched against him.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he whispered hotly. And then he moved down the bed to press a kiss against the seam of her sex, inhaling her scent.

She let out a startled gasp, but it soon turned into a throaty moan as he pressed his tongue against her.

The taste of her was exquisite beyond his wildest imaginings. And he was so hungry for her that, even when he felt her shuddering with a violent release, he didn’t stop.



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