Claiming His Wife by Golden Angel Page A

waiting
for their wedding night, but he knew it was going to be worth it.
 Keeping her in line was a full time job; he certainly hadn't
wanted to risk leaving the house to find a willing woman, only to
return and find that she'd run rampant in his absence.
 Although, if he were being entirely truthful with himself, he
would admit that the attractions of other women had paled after
meeting Cynthia anyway.  He wanted her, very badly, and trying
to find a substitute didn't hold any real appeal.  Wesley was
experienced enough with women to know that a substitute never
appeased him.  
    Waiting for his wedding
night would be worth it.  
    In the meantime, he'd enjoy stolen
moments, like he was about to right now.  Judging the current
pathway they were on to be dark enough that no one would be able to
immediately discern their identities, Wesley pulled her off the
gravel and pushed her up against a tree.  Cynthia squeaked,
but before she could speak or protest, his mouth was on hers in a
possessive, passionate kiss.  A conqueror's kiss, meant to
dominate, to claim.
    His senses thrilled as she
softened against him, opening her lips to invite him in, her hands
pressed against his chest but not pushing him away.  Trapping
her, his hands planted firmly on either side of her body, the bark
of the tree digging into his hands, Wesley kissed her with all the
expert knowledge of a degenerate rake.  Cynthia melted against
him; he could practically feel her submission to him as he pressed
his body against hers, his cock digging into the softness of her
stomach.  
    Nipping at her full lower lip, he
raised his head slightly, glaring down at her in the dim light.
 
    "No other men, baggage," he said, his
voice darkly serious.
    Cynthia glared back up at him, not at
all cowed.  "No other women, my Lord," she retorted
tartly. 
    "Agreed," he said
immediately, lowering his head again.  "Shall we seal our deal
with a kiss?"
    The man knew how to seduce
with his mouth... his tongue... Cynthia moaned as he pressed her
back against the tree, allowing it to hold her up while he made
free with his hands.  The low neckline of her ball gown made
it easy for him to pull her breasts free, resting them on top of
the fabric, so that he could pinch and roll the tender buds between
his fingers.  Whimpering against his lips, Cynthia arched, the
slick folds between her legs aching with envy as he plucked her
rosy, throbbing tips.  She could feel his hardness rubbing
against her and her insides clenched.
    Would he ruin her now?
 Finally?
    She wasn't sure how she felt about
being ruined in the gardens behind the Assembly Rooms, but right
now her body didn't care.  It craved his touch, the rising
pleasure in her core, and the fire he created in her belly.
 
    When he pulled away from
the kiss and put his mouth to her breast, she moaned loudly and he
immediately put his hand over her lips, muffling the noise.
 Eyes wide, she stared at their surroundings, remembering that
they were outside where anyone could walk by and see them.
 Although they might not see her face, it was unmistakable
what they were doing.  Excitement and terror filled her
equally.  
    She'd never allowed a gentleman to
take so many liberties with her, because she hadn't wanted to
chance being caught and shaming her family or the Countess.
 If she'd ever thought she could get away with it, she might
have, but before the Earl she'd always had to be worried about her
reputation.  Now, if anyone were to come upon them, Wesley
would be the one blamed, not her.  No one would blame her for
following her betrothed's lead... she wouldn't be ruined... and it
gave her a sense of freedom like she'd never had before.
 
    Cynthia almost wanted
someone to walk by, to see Wesley bent over her breasts, to see her
skirts as they slowly slid up her legs... her alabaster skin was
glowing in the moonlight.  It would be shocking.
 Scandalous.  And horribly exciting.
    Fingers slid underneath
her