Does Your Mother Know by Bronwyn Green Page B

against her ear.
    She glanced down, seemingly mesmerized by sight of their laced fingers. Moving his hand in a circle, he palmed her nipple, a small smile playing at his lips as she arched into his touch.
    He dragged his fingers up to her shoulders, goose bumps following in his wake. Slipping his fingertips beneath neckline of her dress, he slid it down, slowly baring her shoulders then the upper swells of her breasts. The filmy material caught momentarily on her erect nipples, sending shivers of need racing through her. Her need mirrored his own.
    The crinkled nubs tightened further under his scrutiny, and he gave one last tug, dragging the fabric down until she was naked to the waist. His breath stalled in his throat. Pebbled, berry-colored tips sat atop full, creamy breasts. Her skin almost seemed to glow in the dim, candlelit cavern, practically begging for his touch.
    Her hands fluttered like nervous moths before settling at his waist, attempting to draw him closer, but he held his ground. He’d waited far too long for this. Up until now, he’d satisfied himself with fleeting glimpses and rare, brief conversations stolen before Demeter’s arrival. But now? Now, he had Persephone to himself. She’d come to him. To a place her mother couldn’t follow.
    Holding Persephone’s gaze, he cupped her breast in his hand, brushing his thumb across her sweetly distended nipple. Her skin felt almost cool to the touch, but that would change quickly. Rolling the tip between his thumb and forefinger, he walked her backward towards the bed.
    “Or perhaps this was the promise I made,” he rumbled against the shell of her ear, pinching her flesh lightly.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    Persephone closed her eyes at the sharp bite of pain that quickly morphed into pleasure as he squeezed harder before releasing her. Her breath shuddered as his lips trailed a heated path along her neck and over her chest. She’d imagined this moment so many times, but it was nothing like she’d envisioned. There was no way she could have anticipated the calluses on his fingertips or the delicious, wet heat of his mouth. Nor could she have envisioned how it would feel to have the thick column of his cock pressed against her mound.
    The back of her knees hit the bed as he engulfed her nipple in his mouth, toppling her onto the mattress. The pleasure of his earlier kisses was nothing compared to sensuous tugging on her aching flesh. She cried out when the almost sharp edges of his teeth scraped over the tight peaks. Her fingers scrabbled at his shoulders as a breathy moan escaped her lips. Sliding her hands into his hair, she clutched his head, refusing to let him move. She never wanted him to stop.
    Her folds dampened, and she shifted against him, against the hard ridge of his cock, to alleviate the ache between her legs. It didn’t work.
    He lifted his head, and his hair fell around them like a dark curtain obscuring everything but his face. “Is this the promise I made?” he asked, his eyes intense as they bored into hers.
    Lowering his head again, he pulled her other nipple into his mouth. Wet heat bloomed around her flesh as he drew on her, creating a rhythmic pulse, connecting her breasts and her womb. Nudging apart her legs with his knee, he settled in the cradle of her thighs. His weight pressed her into the bedding, sending fissions of pleasure racing through her to center in her groin. The thick ridge of his cock lodged against her mound. More than anything, she wanted him inside her. She lifted her hips, rocking against him.
    Releasing her nipple, he reached towards the silver bowl sitting alongside the bed. Holding a pomegranate aril to her lips, he traced her mouth with the tiny, succulent piece of fruit. As much as she longed to taste it, she could not.
    “I would take you for my queen,” he rasped, again following the seam of her lips with the aril.
    Holding his gaze, she slowly shook her head, regret heavy in her heart. To