Page 20 of A Baby to Make Her His Bride

It was blatant and again felt like a selfish move, but he seemed very happy to have her present herself this way and his attentions sent fresh arrows of need straight into her loins. She combed her fingers into his hair while he cupped and toyed with her breasts, drawing her nipples to sharp points until they were so sensitive she could hardly bear the texture of his tongue across them, but the ripple effects in her pelvis were worth it. Eager slickness gathered there until she felt hollow and lost. Until she needed the broad shape of him inside her.Needed it.

“Can we...?” She drew back, shifting backward and straddling him, taking hold of his steely shape, squeezing and caressing, learning how to make his breath catch before she guided him where she needed him.There.

She knew he was watching her. She closed her eyes against the intimacy, but that only amplified the sensation of his broad presence invading her. She slowly—gratefully—impaled herself upon him.

Oh, that felt good.

His hands never stopped moving, tickling her thighs and shaping her hips, clasping her waist and cupping her breasts then sliding down so his thumbs could bracket where they were joined. He parted her outer folds, found the moisture where she was stretched around him and caressed it all around her inner tissues. He rolled his thumb across the knot of nerves that made her clench her inner muscles and an earthy cry of pleasure lodged itself in her throat.

She began to move on him, greedy for the friction and the plunge. He rolled his hips, meeting her each time she returned. He drove her relentlessly upward until her hands were slipping on his sweaty chest.

It’s okay, she wanted to tell him.It won’t happen for me. Not like this. But you should let go.

She couldn’t speak, though. Flames of acute pleasure were licking upward through her, lashing and twisting and pulling at her. Then one strong hand clasped her hip and held her still on his thrusting hips.

She began to shake. Maybe she already was shaking, but when he slid his other hand between them and pressed his thumb firmly on that swollen knot of nerves, her vision went white. Lightning struck, making her sob.

He rolled his thumb and lightning exploded all around her. Within her. Pleasure struck again and again with such ferocity that she didn’t know if she could survive the storm. She didn’t care. She was wind and rain and fire and light. She was shameless as she ground herself on him, greedy and unrestrained.

Then the world spun and he was atop her, thrusting powerfully. Whatever control he’d exerted until this point evaporated. Yet he didn’t hurt her. He was near feral in his drive toward his own satisfaction. Ragged noises tore from his throat on each uneven thrust, but she only cried, “Yes. Yes.” And when she opened her eyes to the lust suffusing his face, he was watching her. His teeth were bared, his hands clenched on her shoulder and hip, holding her still for his rough, animalistic claiming, but she was safe.

And wanted.Needed.

She had never felt so necessary. His focus told her she was his salvation and, impossibly, that knowledge caused a delicious wrenching inside her that brought her to the brink yet again.

She curled her nails against his ribs and begged, “Don’t stop. Never stop.”

His wordless noise was pure torture, but he kept thrusting. He didn’t let go and didn’t let up, not until her ragged breaths were broken by fresh cries and she was pulsing with the intense contractions of the joy he delivered so ruthlessly.

Only then did he bury himself deep and release his own shouts of triumph.

Jasper gathered his weight off her and gently pulled free, glad that Vienna kept her eyes closed because he needed a minute.

He needed a lifetime to process that. What the hell had just happened?

He rolled to the side of the bed where he discarded the condom in a wastebasket, then he fell onto his back.

Kissing her in the trees...he hadn’t planned that. He had been very prepared for her to shoot him down when he floated the idea of them passing their time here with a pleasant hookup.

Maybe he had even hoped shewouldshoot him down. He loved sex, but he wasn’t a horny teenager with no sense of consequence. Far from it. At that age, he had learned an indelible lesson on the responsibilities and consequences that could befall a man when he let his south pole do his thinking. As a result, he was very careful when he considered getting involved with a woman.

Getting involved with her wasn’t the same as hooking up with a stranger. They would see each other again. Her concern about awkward dinners was legitimate.

But when she had asked,What if it’s awful?he could have laughed. Their chemistry was obvious. Wasn’t it?

One kiss. That was all he’d intended. He’d wanted to kiss her and show her their potential, but she had swiftly ignited, taking him right along with her into the conflagration.

That had been the most incredible sex of his life. Every point of contact with her had penetrated to his bones, awakening parts of him that had been asleep for years, long before he’d left for Chile. Places he had deliberately sanded off and forgotten about.

He hadn’t expected that. He had expected physical fulfillment, obviously. Maybe a few of those awkward moments she’d been worried about since few couples got it right the first time. But that? He hadn’t been able to make it up the stairs. Not without making a claim on her.

That was what had consumed him from their first kiss, though. He had never been the possessive type, but a primal need had compelled him to wipe out the memory of the previousoneman in her life. Not for his ego. It had been more basic than that. He had needed her to be as deeply affected by him as he was by her.

Paradoxically, the more she gave herself up to him, the more he craved. Making her writhe and lose all inhibition had filled him with power and humble gratification. With hunger for more. The hunger was still there. Need. He wanted more.

What if it’s awful?

What if it’s unstoppable?

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