Page 55 of Lord Garson's Bride
Her movement edged him further inside her and set off a volley of fireworks behind his eyes. On a long, resonant groan, he plunged forward.
She gave a muffled cry and stiffened. Then as he lay gasping in her embrace, she tilted her hips, miraculously taking him deeper. He snatched in some air and squeezed his eyes shut. With every ounce of gratitude overflowing from his soul, he thanked whatever powers had brought him to this moment.
Perhaps because Jane was his wife and this closeness staked his right to the future, perhaps because he’d worked so hard to win her, perhaps because she was just so damned marvelous, these profound feelings were beyond anything he’d ever known. Before now, sex had been a pleasure, a diversion, an appetite. Never before had congress with a woman shaken his world to its foundations.
Jane breathed in ragged spurts. He remained unmoving until her tension loosened. When she began to stroke his back, he opened his eyes. “Can you bear more?”
Her gaze widened, and her wriggle threatened to blast his head off. His control hung by the frailest thread, but he’d be damned if he brought his wife this far, only to disappoint her at the end.
“More?” she whispered, as if the concept beggared imagination.
Garson answered with a slow withdrawal, reveling in the way she clung to every inch. When he rose on his elbows and pushed forward again, she accepted him more easily. “Does this hurt?”
“It did.”
At his wince, she touched his cheek with a tenderness that added a poignant edge to his desire. “A little. At first.”
Ridiculous that Jane’s attempt to comfort him should move him so powerfully, when he was the one who had caused her pain. The awful truth was he couldn’t even say he was sorry, because this union gave him nothing but pleasure. “No longer?”
She shifted fractionally, detonating more fiery explosions in his head. “I think I’ll like it.”
His huff of laughter took him deeper into her body. She was so hot and tight. He’d set out to possess her, but instead she possessed him. It was a glorious sensation.
“Shall we make sure?”
Her hand drifted so sweetly down his face that his heart stumbled. “Yes, please.”
When they kissed, her lips conveyed that same sweetness. He fought against the nearly irresistible urge to rush to climax. Never had he basked in such an extraordinary mixture of gentleness and passion. “Am I squashing you?”
“In a nice way.”
Passion clamored for its due. As the next kiss flared into hunger, the rise of her hips snapped the last chains of his restraint. He moved purposefully, claiming her with every thrust.
With a luxuriant caress, she slid her hands down his arms. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it feels when you move inside me,” she said huskily. “If I’d known, I’d have leaped into your arms that first night.”
His withdrawal was slow. “You like this?”
“So much.” Her long sigh of enjoyment vibrated to his bones. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she tilted her head back as if relishing every shift of his body in hers.
“And this?” With steady purpose, he pushed forward. Her body flowered to greet him, and her low, keening sound conveyed sumptuous enjoyment. When she undulated against him, he nearly detonated into a thousand smoking shards.
“Do it again.”
“With pleasure,” he growled. He’d never meant anything more sincerely.
“Goody,” she said, like a child presented with a birthday treat. He couldn’t contain a gasp of laughter.
“Oh,” she said with surprise. “When you laugh, I can feel it. It’s…nice.”
Her artless delight in what they did filled him with wonder. And hunger for more of her. With a guttural groan, he began to move, going full and hard, crushing her into the mattress. Her fingers turned into talons on his back, and she gripped him with every thrust. The need for her to find fulfillment before he lost himself warred with a ferocious craving to pump every last ounce of passion into her.
He heard her breath catch, then a sobbing crescendo. “Let it happen,” he bit out, as his crisis built toward its release. “Remember the carriage.”
“I loved what happened…in the carriage.” The words emerged in bursts.
She clenched around him. He ran his teeth down her neck. She cried out, tightening like a fist. Need rocketed beyond his control. As Jane quaked through her pleasure, the irresistible surge started in the soles of Garson’s feet, rolled up through his legs, and flooded like flame into his balls.
His hot seed spurted into her, and he made a guttural sound of release. Jane cried out and dug her nails into his shoulders, clinging to him as they tumbled headlong into raging fire.
