Читать книгу Platinum Grooms: Pregnant at the Wedding - Sara Orwig - Страница 13

Solemnly, she wrapped her arm around his neck. Everything they did made her long for a deep, binding love between them. Reminding herself to be thankful for what he was giving her—marriage to him, his name, financial support forever for their baby—she tried to cling to positives.

As he carried her over the threshold and closed the door behind them, she had a momentary glimpse of a spacious room furnished in white and pale blue, with elegant fruitwood furniture and a balcony beyond glass doors. A huge bouquet of gerbera daises and orange tiger lilies in a crystal vase stood on a low table. Sparkling cider was already on ice, ordered in advance by Ryan.

Closing the door, he set her on her feet and slid one arm around her waist, drawing her against him.

Her husband. Mrs. Ryan Warner. How long would it take for her to accept it?

“We’re starting life together and I expect it to be fabulous,” he said quietly.

She placed her hand on Ryan’s cheek. “I told you, I’ll make you fall in love with me.”

“I’d say we’re headed in that direction. You can’t imagine how much I want you right now,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“I want more, Ryan. I want your heart, your love, your total commitment to our relationship,” she said. She was his wife now and would be with him. So much was up to her—whether she turned him away or seduced him into a binding love….

Holding her close, he bent his head to kiss her. She pressed against him, aching for all of his marvelous body. She pushed away his coat. His fingers were on the buttons of her dress, but she was barely aware because his kisses were stoking her passion. Memories crashed over her of the taste and texture of him.

He leaned back, releasing her for a moment to unfasten his collar and remove his tie. His scalding stare locked with hers as he reached out to draw her dress off her shoulders.

Pushing it away, he let it slide down over her hips, following it with his eyes and making every inch of her tingle. She wore only her lacy white wisp of a bra and a skimpy thong.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice a rasp. He reached out to peel away her bra.

His breathing was already ragged from their kisses, and the power she held over him—physically—amazed her, exciting her in turn, fueling her hopes of binding his heart to her forever.

His longing fused with her yearning. She was as surprised by the depth of her own desire for him, a need that had tormented her on too many empty nights.

Wanting to touch his bare warm skin and to look at him as freely as he gazed at her, she reached for him, unfastening the studs of his shirt and tugging the tails out of his pants. She caressed his broad, muscular chest, tangling her fingers in his thick, black curls and then letting her fingers range over his washboard belly. He was solid, all muscles, lean and hard. Irresistible. Drawing her to him, he enveloped her in his arms and kissed her with even more hunger than before.

Wanting him, she burned, moving her hips and moaning softly while his hands slipped down to cup her breasts and caress her.

“I intend to pleasure you all night,” he whispered, while his thumbs circled her nipples. Her memories had not been exaggerations; he was the lover she’d recalled. Hot, exciting, deliberate and provoking. He might be even better this time, because he seemed driven. She held his hips, gasping and closing her eyes. He leaned down to tease each taut nipple with his tongue in wet, lazy circles that sent sensations to her core.

She unfastened his trousers and he stepped out of them, yanking off his socks and tossing them away. He was aroused, thick and ready, and she hooked her fingers in his briefs to peel them down. She came up slowly, running her hands along his legs, trailing her tongue over him, looking at his spectacular body, his thick rod, which was throbbing for her now.

He caught her to lift her up into his embrace. Thrilling to everything he did, she locked her arms around his neck and nuzzled him, letting go of all her anger.

They kissed with mutual heat, hearts thudding. She could feel his pounding heart beneath her fingers as she caressed his chest. She knew his need was escalating as swiftly as hers. She wanted her husband and she hoped to seduce him as much as he enticed her.

In the bedroom, he set her on her feet and yanked away the covering on the bed. She was oblivious to their surroundings, seeing only the virile, naked man standing before her. She reached for him, grasping his slender hips, and then her hands played over him and slid around to his firm buttocks. She knelt, exploring his muscled thighs while she traced her tongue across his belly and heard his deep intake of breath.

Her fingers found his shaft, thick and hard, and she stroked him before she took him into her mouth. Her tongue circled the velvet tip as she remembered the textures of him, learned what excited him most, discovered more about his responses.

Making a sound deep in his throat, he slipped his hands beneath her arms and hauled her to her feet, and his scalding look was as evocative as a kiss.

“You’re the woman of my dreams and fantasies,” he rasped in a deep voice, making her wonder if he meant what he said or was lost in passion. Kissing her, he drew her into his embrace, holding her with one arm while his other hand slid down to caress her.

Moaning, she burned with need for him. Her cries were taken by his mouth on hers. His shaft was hard against her belly, a reinforcement of what he’d told her. He leaned away to look at her. “I want to make love to you until you let me do everything to pleasure you. I know how passionate you can be, and memories of our lovemaking have tormented me night after night. This is a sweet revenge for those sleepless hours,” he whispered, leaning down for another fiery kiss.