her.
“You’re so damned beautiful,” he said, dropping to his elbows, bending his head to kiss her.
He was heavy, pressing her into the rug, but it only served to drive her wilder, and she met each thrust with a raise of her hips. He kissed her lips, her face, her neck, exploring her skin with teeth and tongue, nipping, biting, licking and basically driving her to a chemical reaction she was unable to escape—like dropping sodium into water, or… “Oh God.”
He thrust even harder, and Grace’s eyelids fluttered closed as heat pooled in her abdomen and her internal muscles tightened around him. She bit her lip hard to stop herself swearing, digging her fingers into his butt beneath his pants, realising as his muscles tensed that he’d reached his climax too. And then his mouth was on hers, and she felt consumed by him, overwhelmed by the smell and taste of him, and the satisfied, deep groans low in his throat as he pushed hard deep inside her, shuddering with the force of his orgasm.
Afterward, he kissed her as their breathing slowed, kisses now light and soft, apologetic kisses, tender kisses that told her he’d given her everything, and now he was worried he’d hurt her.
So she slipped a hand into his hair and kissed him back, letting him know that he hadn’t hurt her, and he was in fact the best medicine she’d had for a very, very long time. Maybe ever, in fact.
Chapter Nine
They lay on the sheepskin rug, looking up at the ceiling, holding hands.
“That is a truly awful lampshade,” said Grace, frowning at the cream, lace-frilled monstrosity.
“I’ve never actually looked at it before.” Ash glanced across at her. “But then I’ve never been in this position before, either.” He smiled, rolling onto his side, and lifted up onto an elbow so he could look down at her. He brushed her cheek with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”
“For giving me a mind-blowing orgasm?”
He grinned. “No. I’m not at all sorry for that.” He kissed her nose. “For being rough.”
Grace could have melted at that comment. “Oh, Ash, that was hardly rough. Believe me, I know.” She couldn’t stop the vehemence creeping into her words, and he frowned in response.
“You want to talk about it?”
She shrugged. “It was a mistake. I was trying to be…” She sighed. “Impulsive. I’ve been single since I was twenty-five—four years is quite a long time to be celibate.”
“Indeed.”
“I met him in a bar, got talking. He seemed nice. Mia had been teasing me that I expect guys to propose before I sleep with them, so I decided to be spontaneous.” Her cheeks grew warm. “It didn’t end well.”
Ash sighed. “I’m guessing he wasn’t quite the Casanova?”
“I think he assumed because I was so forward that I’d be more confident in bed. I wasn’t. I was very nervous. And…well, you can imagine the rest.”
He stroked her cheek again and kissed her lightly. “Poor Miss Fox.” He kissed her again. “The prick doesn’t have a clue what he missed out on.”
She gave a short laugh. “Nicely put.”
He trailed his fingers down between her breasts, across her stomach, circled her hipbone. “So who were you dating when you were twenty-five?”
“A guy called Todd. I saw him for just over a year. He seemed nice enough, a bit intense at times…” That was understating it, but she was giving the abbreviated version.
“So what went wrong?”
“I discovered he had a whole room full of books on psychopaths, mass-murderers and torture implements.” Ash’s face was a picture. “I know,” she said. “I tried not to jump to conclusions, thinking maybe he was doing some research for a book or something, but I couldn’t get the suspicion out of my head, and one night he wanted to tie me up. And we’re not talking silk scarves here—I could have coped with that. We’re talking handcuffs. And not fur-lined ones.” She pulled a face as he raised an eyebrow. “I left while he was in
“You’re so damned beautiful,” he said, dropping to his elbows, bending his head to kiss her.
He was heavy, pressing her into the rug, but it only served to drive her wilder, and she met each thrust with a raise of her hips. He kissed her lips, her face, her neck, exploring her skin with teeth and tongue, nipping, biting, licking and basically driving her to a chemical reaction she was unable to escape—like dropping sodium into water, or… “Oh God.”
He thrust even harder, and Grace’s eyelids fluttered closed as heat pooled in her abdomen and her internal muscles tightened around him. She bit her lip hard to stop herself swearing, digging her fingers into his butt beneath his pants, realising as his muscles tensed that he’d reached his climax too. And then his mouth was on hers, and she felt consumed by him, overwhelmed by the smell and taste of him, and the satisfied, deep groans low in his throat as he pushed hard deep inside her, shuddering with the force of his orgasm.
Afterward, he kissed her as their breathing slowed, kisses now light and soft, apologetic kisses, tender kisses that told her he’d given her everything, and now he was worried he’d hurt her.
So she slipped a hand into his hair and kissed him back, letting him know that he hadn’t hurt her, and he was in fact the best medicine she’d had for a very, very long time. Maybe ever, in fact.
Chapter Nine
They lay on the sheepskin rug, looking up at the ceiling, holding hands.
“That is a truly awful lampshade,” said Grace, frowning at the cream, lace-frilled monstrosity.
“I’ve never actually looked at it before.” Ash glanced across at her. “But then I’ve never been in this position before, either.” He smiled, rolling onto his side, and lifted up onto an elbow so he could look down at her. He brushed her cheek with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”
“For giving me a mind-blowing orgasm?”
He grinned. “No. I’m not at all sorry for that.” He kissed her nose. “For being rough.”
Grace could have melted at that comment. “Oh, Ash, that was hardly rough. Believe me, I know.” She couldn’t stop the vehemence creeping into her words, and he frowned in response.
“You want to talk about it?”
She shrugged. “It was a mistake. I was trying to be…” She sighed. “Impulsive. I’ve been single since I was twenty-five—four years is quite a long time to be celibate.”
“Indeed.”
“I met him in a bar, got talking. He seemed nice. Mia had been teasing me that I expect guys to propose before I sleep with them, so I decided to be spontaneous.” Her cheeks grew warm. “It didn’t end well.”
Ash sighed. “I’m guessing he wasn’t quite the Casanova?”
“I think he assumed because I was so forward that I’d be more confident in bed. I wasn’t. I was very nervous. And…well, you can imagine the rest.”
He stroked her cheek again and kissed her lightly. “Poor Miss Fox.” He kissed her again. “The prick doesn’t have a clue what he missed out on.”
She gave a short laugh. “Nicely put.”
He trailed his fingers down between her breasts, across her stomach, circled her hipbone. “So who were you dating when you were twenty-five?”
“A guy called Todd. I saw him for just over a year. He seemed nice enough, a bit intense at times…” That was understating it, but she was giving the abbreviated version.
“So what went wrong?”
“I discovered he had a whole room full of books on psychopaths, mass-murderers and torture implements.” Ash’s face was a picture. “I know,” she said. “I tried not to jump to conclusions, thinking maybe he was doing some research for a book or something, but I couldn’t get the suspicion out of my head, and one night he wanted to tie me up. And we’re not talking silk scarves here—I could have coped with that. We’re talking handcuffs. And not fur-lined ones.” She pulled a face as he raised an eyebrow. “I left while he was in
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