The Shy Bride - Page 43

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“You must trust my words.”


“Okay.” He used the moment of trust to pull her blouse the rest of the way off and dispense with her bra in one well-practiced series of movements.

Instead of trying to cover up as he half suspected she might, she reached up. “Come closer, I want to feel your skin against mine.”

“You are perfect for me,” he told her heatedly. “I adore this passionate innocence of yours.”

“Passionate innocence. That’s me,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh that choked off into a moan when he gave her what she craved and felt the trembling result in the feminine limbs wrapped around his shoulders.

How had such a sensual woman made it to twenty-

nine without having sex? Even with her lifestyle and limitations?

“That’s so good,” she breathed into his ear while moving from side to side infinitesimally. “So good.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I want my slacks off, too.”

“My pleasure.” And it was, undoing the crisp navy trousers and pulling them down her legs.

He had to stop and look, soak in the sight of her sprawled out on his bed in nothing but her panties.

“Incredible,” he said.

She shook her head. “Now, I know you are lying. You told me I had bird legs.”

“I was teasing.” With a shake of his head for her ignorance, he pressed his body down onto hers, reveling in the feel of naked flesh pressed against naked flesh. “I was picturing them wrapped around my torso while I pleasured you.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was.”

“Like this?” she asked in an innocent tone, completely belied by the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. Her legs wrapped around his hips, her calves hooking over his thighs.

“Exactly like that.” He took a deep breath and held it while keeping his body rigid. “Careful, pethi mou. I am in grave danger of reaching the goal long before the game is over.”

“A Casanova like you?” she teased. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe.” No matter how embarrassing he might find it, that was the truth.

“I like affecting you that strongly.”

“I, too, like it.” And to prove how much, he began to kiss her again. This time, caressing her with his lips all over her face and down her neck.

Her legs’ hold on his hips broke as he continued his oral caresses down over her satiny shoulders and lower to her breasts.

Her breathing, which had grown rapid and shallow, hitched. “Oh, oh…Neo…yes. I like that.”

He would have laughed if he had any air to make the sound, but he didn’t feel like laughing when his lips closed around one delicately pink peak and she cried out with shocked delight. He felt like giving the victory chant. She was so incredibly responsive. To him.

Every one of her reactions belonged to him and him alone. As did she.

No matter how temporary his possession, it pounded through him as a primitive, fierce drumbeat. She was his.

He nibbled, suckled and licked her nipple and the soft mound surrounding it, like she was a particularly tasty ice cream cone, until she was making incoherent sounds of need. And then he moved to her other petite breast and gave it just as much attention.

Her hands went from caressing him, to burying in his hair, to pulling his hair, as she bucked her hips in an ancient if unconscious plea.

No matter how much he wanted to give in to that silent demand, she wasn’t ready. Not yet. But she would be.

He was going to drive his sensual little virgin out of her mind with carnal delight.

With that goal firmly entrenched in his mind, he moved down her torso, his lips and tongue caressing and tasting the salty smoothness of her skin. She writhed under his ministrations, making incoherent demands when he tongued her belly button. His hands were busy revisiting every spot his mouth had already been.

He played with her breasts, but it wasn’t until he pinched and teased at her hard little nubs that she tried to arch up off the bed. He laughed in victory-filled pleasure against her smooth stomach and slid his mouth lower. When he reached her hot pink panties, he stopped with his teeth on her waistband.

Everything in Cassandra seemed to go still. She stared down at him. Their eyes locked as he made silent promises and she reeled from the message he knew she could read in his gaze. He was going to make this the best first time she could possibly have.

She deserved the most incredible experience he could give her. She wasn’t just a one-night stand; she was his friend. And her innocence was not merely a powerful aphrodisiac, it was a great responsibility as well.

With a jerk of his head, he tugged the small scrap of lace down. Blatant desire tinged by virginal uncertainty washed over Cassandra’s precious features. She canted her pelvis so that he could pull off her last piece of clothing over her hips.

Tags: Lucy Monroe Billionaire Romance