surface of his control. The pressure of that kiss as his mouth claimed her own spoke of need, longing and just a hint of desperation. And commitment.
With that kiss, Carlisle branded Nell his own, mouth moving slowly, tasting and summoning her own desire until her body felt as if it were on fire. His tongue was a sweet invasion, moving against her own with sinuous enchantment and Nell found herself pushing herself against him, the rough brush of his clothing against her naked skin intensely erotic.
His hands had pulled her against him, resting on her hips while he explored her mouth and a fever of desire rose up in her, a well of need that ran deep.
He raised his head, but only to press his mouth to her skin, trailing a line of kisses across her jaw line, the slender column of her throat and collar bone, continuing on until he reached the swell of her breast. She could not hold back a moan of pleasure as he grazed a nipple, sliding his lips across it before taking it and slowly sucking it into his mouth; in and out, in and out, all so slowly that the ache of need within her continued to build, fanning the embers into a full blown fire that raged in the pit of her stomach and between the apex between her legs.
Releasing one breast, he moved across to the other and began the slow, sweet torture again as Nell’s head rolled back in mindless, magical pleasure.
Raising his head at last, he turned to her and gently pushed her down onto the bed. Nell fell, glazed eyes half opening to watch as he undressed, her breath catching at the sight of Grif’s naked form covered in moonlight. He was magnificent! The hard, well-defined planes of his chest tapered down to a flat stomach that in turn…
Nell’s eyes traveled downwards a little more and she swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. The hard, jutting length of his manhood, fully aroused, fully prepared, should have made her shrink away, for she was a virgin and, if rumor were to be believed, a girl’s virginity surrendered itself with great reluctance and no little pain.
But far from being nervous, Nell ached to feel him inside her. He was everything she had never allowed herself to dream about; everything most girls secretly desired, but would not dare say out loud.
He knew that she was studying him and smiled his satisfaction. ‘You are a minx, Miss. Marriott,’ he murmured, the first words he had spoken, ‘and you deserve everything you get!’
‘Oh, yes,’ Nell agreed fervently, holding out her arms to him, ‘I most certainly do!’
Grif chuckled and lay next to her, resisting the lure of her parted legs, determined to inflict the sweet torture of his hands and mouth a little while longer. Nell had not believed a body could sing, but when his fingers found their way between her legs, she knew that it was capable of an entire chorus. He kissed her as he stroked the warm heart of her womanhood into glorious life and, when the wave of pleasure came crashing through her, culminating in an explosion of ecstasy so intense he had to cut of her cry with his mouth, Nell knew that her life would never be the same.
Or she almost knew it; the glorious ripples of pleasure that gripped her body prevented her from thinking of anything sensible. Thinking had taken a small break, replaced by feeling and she was feeling utterly delicious.
When Grif raised his head, his dark eyes as unfathomable as the night sky, she could barely focus on him. ‘Why, Miss. Marriott,’ he was so close their breath intermingled, ‘I do believe I have silenced you at last.’
Silenced, but not stilled. Her questing hand moved, wrapping itself around the hard length of him and this time, it was Grif’s breath that caught. Her half smile told him everything he needed to know and he rolled onto his knees and pushed her legs wider. With infinite tenderness, Grif eased his long length into her velvety sheath, trying to move slowly, his efforts hampered by the fact that Nell herself was moving, doing her
With that kiss, Carlisle branded Nell his own, mouth moving slowly, tasting and summoning her own desire until her body felt as if it were on fire. His tongue was a sweet invasion, moving against her own with sinuous enchantment and Nell found herself pushing herself against him, the rough brush of his clothing against her naked skin intensely erotic.
His hands had pulled her against him, resting on her hips while he explored her mouth and a fever of desire rose up in her, a well of need that ran deep.
He raised his head, but only to press his mouth to her skin, trailing a line of kisses across her jaw line, the slender column of her throat and collar bone, continuing on until he reached the swell of her breast. She could not hold back a moan of pleasure as he grazed a nipple, sliding his lips across it before taking it and slowly sucking it into his mouth; in and out, in and out, all so slowly that the ache of need within her continued to build, fanning the embers into a full blown fire that raged in the pit of her stomach and between the apex between her legs.
Releasing one breast, he moved across to the other and began the slow, sweet torture again as Nell’s head rolled back in mindless, magical pleasure.
Raising his head at last, he turned to her and gently pushed her down onto the bed. Nell fell, glazed eyes half opening to watch as he undressed, her breath catching at the sight of Grif’s naked form covered in moonlight. He was magnificent! The hard, well-defined planes of his chest tapered down to a flat stomach that in turn…
Nell’s eyes traveled downwards a little more and she swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. The hard, jutting length of his manhood, fully aroused, fully prepared, should have made her shrink away, for she was a virgin and, if rumor were to be believed, a girl’s virginity surrendered itself with great reluctance and no little pain.
But far from being nervous, Nell ached to feel him inside her. He was everything she had never allowed herself to dream about; everything most girls secretly desired, but would not dare say out loud.
He knew that she was studying him and smiled his satisfaction. ‘You are a minx, Miss. Marriott,’ he murmured, the first words he had spoken, ‘and you deserve everything you get!’
‘Oh, yes,’ Nell agreed fervently, holding out her arms to him, ‘I most certainly do!’
Grif chuckled and lay next to her, resisting the lure of her parted legs, determined to inflict the sweet torture of his hands and mouth a little while longer. Nell had not believed a body could sing, but when his fingers found their way between her legs, she knew that it was capable of an entire chorus. He kissed her as he stroked the warm heart of her womanhood into glorious life and, when the wave of pleasure came crashing through her, culminating in an explosion of ecstasy so intense he had to cut of her cry with his mouth, Nell knew that her life would never be the same.
Or she almost knew it; the glorious ripples of pleasure that gripped her body prevented her from thinking of anything sensible. Thinking had taken a small break, replaced by feeling and she was feeling utterly delicious.
When Grif raised his head, his dark eyes as unfathomable as the night sky, she could barely focus on him. ‘Why, Miss. Marriott,’ he was so close their breath intermingled, ‘I do believe I have silenced you at last.’
Silenced, but not stilled. Her questing hand moved, wrapping itself around the hard length of him and this time, it was Grif’s breath that caught. Her half smile told him everything he needed to know and he rolled onto his knees and pushed her legs wider. With infinite tenderness, Grif eased his long length into her velvety sheath, trying to move slowly, his efforts hampered by the fact that Nell herself was moving, doing her
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