Page 76 of His Betrothed
She stiffened, waiting for the pain, yet knowing she would bear anything to be close tohim—but there was no pain at all. Just a wonderful feeling of fullness, of completion.
Spencer felt her muscles tightenall around him, and knew a dawning dread. “Did I hurt you?” he rasped.
The relief was overwhelming when she shook her head. “It feels…perfect.”
Perfect—that’s what Roselyn was. He held himself painfully still inside her body, waiting for her to adjust as he looked on her flushed face, wet with the rain. He spread kisses across her face, her neck, then rounded his back so he could lave her breastswith his tongue.
He pulled out and thrust again deep inside her, wanting to touch all of her. He felt a need so deep for her that it frightened him, and his pace sped up until they rocked together in the darkness. She made panting, incoherent sounds against his chest and neck, and the first touch of her tongue sent him over the edge and into an abyss that had eluded him for so long. Though hetried to stop himself, his long celibacy worked against his control. With a groan, he shuddered and poured himself into her as her arms held him tight.
When at last he lifted himself up on his elbows, it was to find her staring at him a little wide-eyed.
“You didn’t enjoy that,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Oh yes, it was wonderful.”
Roselyn, a widow, was yet an innocent to allshe could feel. He knew more about what her body experienced than she did.
“No, you didn’t enjoy that,” he repeated, lifting up and then burying himself inside her again.
She gasped and wiggled.
He grinned. “But you soon will.”
