The Widow Vanishes Read Free Page B

her to the art of love, show her pleasure for the very first time ...
    Need pounding in his veins, he cupped Bella's downy jaw in one palm and continued his exploration. He told himself to go slow—this little game of hers was far too good to rush, and she too delicious not to savor. When he licked her mouth's lush seam, her shiver shot straight to his balls.
    Easing her back against the chaise, he delved into her sweetness. His hunger grew as cinnamon and woman flooded his senses. She was headier than mulled wine. When he stroked her tongue with his, she let out a gasp, a sigh. Groaning, he thrust deeply, laying claim to her honeyed cavern. He left her mouth only to sample the softness of her earlobe, her neck, the alluring dip of her collarbones.
    Soon, his body clamored for more. His cockstand tented his trousers, and his bollocks were tight, pulsing with need. Her nipples poked into his chest, the stiff points tantalizing him through the thin layers that separated them. Breathing heavily, he tugged on the tie of her robe ... and felt her tense.
    He gazed into her dazed eyes. Some of the soot had rubbed off her lashes, revealing their bronze tips. It made him mad to know what else lay under her paint, her clothes.
    "Not afraid of me, are you pet?" he said hoarsely. "You have my word that I'll not hurt you. I'll take care of you, your pleasure."
    "I thought ..." She bit her lip, her auburn brows drawing together. "That is, shouldn't I be the one saying that?"
    Her ingenuous response made his lips twitch. By God, she seemed so adorably confused and innocent. The clever chit knew just how to arouse him—to entice him both body and mind.
    Tracing her reddened lips with a finger, he said, "We play by whatever rules we choose. 'Twould give me the greatest pleasure to go on kissing you, for instance."
    "You must ... do as you like. That is why we're here, after all." Her flush spread beyond the edge of her rouge. "My pleasure has nothing to do with it."
    She was wrong. But he wasn't going to waste time arguing when he could demonstrate.
    "There's my good lass," he said. "Lie back and let me have my way, then."
    She settled against the chaise, her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth. He undid the belt of her robe, and as the silk panels parted, his jaw slackened at the unveiled masterpiece. By all that was holy, he'd never seen such splendor.
    She was like a dish of strawberries and cream, a contrast of temptations. Her plump white breasts were topped with ruby berries that begged to be sampled. Her milky curves were as generous as he'd imagined and juxtaposed by a delicate, nipped-in waist. His gaze roved lower, between her sweetly dimpled thighs ...
    Lord love him. A true redhead, after all.
    Breathing heavily, he curved his hand around the smoothest, roundest breast he'd ever encountered. His cock jerked as its firm heft overflowed his large palm. He rubbed his thumb over the blushing tip, and he didn't know who shuddered, he or she. Mayhap both. He'd always adored this part of a woman—and there was much to adore here. Hunger charged through him, and he lowered his head to feast.
    Her startled cry burned through him, made him suck harder. Her nipple blossomed beneath his tongue, ripe and full, maddeningly sweet. Kneading the full mounds, he licked and played until she went pliant against him. Lust bolted through him as her eyes closed, her neck arching in silent bliss. Damnation, 'twas a gorgeous sight. His hand smoothed over her supple belly, slipped between her thighs.
    Wet, luscious heat.
    He groaned. She gasped.
    Her thighs locked around his hand, and she blinked at him, breasts heaving.
    He cocked his head. "What's the matter, pet?"
    "N-nothing." She licked her lips, and his nostrils flared. "I ... I just ..."
    "Said I'd take care of you. Relax for me, little one," he coaxed.
    "I'm not ... little." Her voice hitched as he managed to swirl his fingers, his lungs burning at her lushness. Her slick response to his