Page 32 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

She groaned. ‘Yes.’

He let out a raw chuckle, but continued to caress her, toying with the responsive peaks as she leaned against him, her legs becoming boneless.

‘So where next, Belle?’ he asked, the husky tone making her body quake anew.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she met his molten gaze in the glass. That he was letting her set the pace, dictate his moves, felt empowering somehow—and spurred the reckless excitement.

How could this be wrong? When it felt so right?

‘Just... Anywhere...’ she managed, her voice thick with the yearning she could no longer disguise.

‘Good choice,’ he said.

His hands left her breasts to wrap around her body, holding her against him, making her aware of his need as well as her own.

She gasped, the surge of pleasure so immense she could no longer resist it, or him.

Fireworks burst in the night sky outside to mark the end of their wedding day.

‘We missed the fireworks,’ she murmured, inanely.

His gaze roamed over her—the coloured lights reflected in his eyes. ‘No, we didn’t.’

He wasn’t wrong, she realised, because the thunder and pop from outside were nothing compared to the fire sparking across her nerve-endings as he held her close while his hands stroked and caressed, her breasts, her waist, her hips...

Her chest heaved as she stared at their reflection—her so small and needy, him so tall and commanding. He lifted her arm, draped it over his neck. She clung onto him, her breasts thrust out, the air trapped in her lungs as anticipation fired through her. Long strong fingers traced across her ribs, circling her belly button and finally delving into her panties, to locate the swollen folds of her sex.

‘You’re so wet for me, Belle,’ he growled, sending a fierce wave of validation and approval through her molten flesh.

She moaned, her body a mass of sensation, the guttural sound both plea and prayer as he skimmed over her centre at last—the bundle of nerves begging for his touch.

Her legs weakened, her knees trembling, her thighs tensing and releasing as he circled and delved, forcing her to focus on that one raw secret spot as the pleasure built, and twisted, and burned.

‘Please... I...’ She couldn’t talk, couldn’t really say what it was she wanted. She’d never felt so exposed or so needy before, her senses heightened beyond what she could bear.

‘I’ve got you, Belle, just relax.’

She tried to do as he asked as the tension gripped her body.

Then he eased one thick finger—with aching slowness—into her. She bucked, shocked by the intrusion, which triggered a bolt of pleasure so immense her desperation increased.

Then his thumb touched the very heart of her. The violent pleasure centred and crested—fierce and raw and unstoppable—shooting her over the edge, the vicious coil releasing in a rush.

She cried out as he worked her through the staggering sensations. She clung to his neck, bucking against his hand, as she rode that unending, unendurable wave of bliss to her limits and beyond.

The waves of orgasm weakened at last. Her whole body shook as he finally released her from the decadent torture. The glittering afterglow gave way to brutal reality as he clasped her waist and murmured against her neck.

‘Ready for round two?’

She opened her eyes to find him watching her intently, his gaze dark with yearning. The long column of flesh thrust against her back as his palm moved to cup her backside.

She lurched away from the possessive touch. ‘I... We can’t.’

‘No?’ The fog of desire cleared a little. ‘Why not?’ Her heart lurched in her chest as he bracketed her hips, the thick ridge cradled against her bottom. ‘It’s just sex.’

Except it’s not just sex to me.

She turned, folding shaky arms back over her breasts—which were still tender from his ministrations.

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