Page 71 of Untouched

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“Then take me, Matthew,” she whispered. She anchored one hand around the back of his neck and prepared for the familiar, uncomfortable invasion.

Even enlarged and excited, he sank in with perfect smoothness. He settled hot and heavy inside her.

He didn’t move. His breath was ragged in her ear.

She’d never felt as close to another human being. It was as though the same blood pumped through their veins, the same heart beat for both of them. Heat and passion surrounded her.

This moment had always left her feeling trapped.

She didn’t feel trapped now.

She sucked in a shaky breath. Experimentally she shifted, changing the pressure. The movement set off tremors of pleasure. His size still stretched her but the sensation was one of fullness, completion.

She hooked her hands over his shoulders. He was slippery with sweat. His musky scent was so pungent that the whole world smelled of his hunger. His hunger for her.

She squirmed with delight, making him groan. Her wriggling must test him. Some devil made her move again.

“Jesus, Grace,” he gritted out. “You try my limits.”

“I hope so,” she purred. He felt so wonderful inside her. As if he supplied part of her that she only realized now she’d lacked. She bent her knees and tilted her hips so he went deeper. She ran her hands down the tense muscles of his back. He flexed under her touch.

“That felt good,” she said breathlessly. “Do it again.”

“If I start, I won’t stop.” His voice was rough.

“Start.” She shifted again and felt him shudder.

“Grace,” he grated out. He withdrew, then plunged into her. Her nails sank into his back and her womb clenched in welcome.

With deliberate slowness, he set the familiar rhythm.

Except none of this was familiar. Every time he settled in her body, he forged an emotional connection that nothing could sever.

On and on he went. Possession. Release. Possession. Release. Every thrust another link in the chain that bound her to him.

Eventually his inhuman control fractured and he drove into her faster, more wildly. With every thrust, her excitement buil

t. It echoed how she’d felt when he kissed her between the legs. That had been wonderful, astounding. But this was more powerful.

Because he was with her.

He pounded into her as though he meant to crush her. She didn’t care. She never wanted this spiraling feeling to end. The storm swirled her higher and higher.

Ecstasy poised her on a knife edge. She cried out and rose to meet him. He changed the angle of his penetration and went even deeper. The pleasure edged close to pain. She tensed as he pressed hard inside her. Then her womb opened and she took all of him. Her inner muscles convulsed into spasms of delight and she screamed.

Violent rapture flung her against the doors of heaven itself. She was lost in a hot, dark world where nothing existed except Matthew. All she could do was hold him and pray she survived.

Through the tempest that blasted her, he reached his climax. He groaned and convulsed in her arms. For this moment, he was unequivocally hers and she reveled in the possession.

After an endless time, he collapsed in absolute exhaustion. His shoulders and chest heaved as he struggled for breath. He buried his head in the curve of her shoulder so his damp, soft hair tickled the side of her neck.

He was big, he was heavy, he was on top of her. And she never wanted to let him go.

Small quakes still shook her. Quivering reminders of the paradise she’d discovered. A paradise she hadn’t known existed. Gradually, Grace’s breathing returned to normal. Or as normal as it could be with Matthew squashing her. Even more gradually, torrid delight faded into afterglow.

She’d had no idea. She’d honestly had no idea.

With tender gratitude, she stroked his bare back, making idle patterns on his scarred skin, learning the hard lines of spine and shoulder blade.


Tags: Anna Campbell Historical