Page 25 of Vows Made in Secret

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Knocked off balance by the unexpected gentleness in his eyes, she stood half swaying against him. Her blood was singing and heat and confusion crackled under her skin. Looking up, she saw that the sky had grown dark. The air felt suddenly viscous and heavy. A storm was coming.

‘It’s these shoes. The soles are slippery,’ she mumbled, her cheeks suddenly hot.

‘Don’t worry. I’ve got you,’ he said calmly.

Holding her breath, she felt his grip on her hand tighten as the first drops of rain splashed onto her face.

They ran towards the cottage, stopping at the door to face one another.

‘I guess I don’t need that water any more,’ he said hoarsely.

Heart pounding, Prudence stared at him. She knew he was giving her a choice. But what choice was there really? Wordlessly she stepped towards him and then, by way of reply, she reached up, slid her arm around his neck and pressed a desperate kiss against his mouth.

Groaning, he pulled her against him, pushing the door open with his body and kicking it shut behind them both. Her mouth parted beneath his and he pulled her towards him, capturing her face between his hands. Grunting, he pulled lightly at the knot at the nape of her neck, tugging her hair free, weaving his fingers between the silken strands.

She moaned, curling her fingers into his shirt, and he deepened the kiss, slowly, languidly sliding his tongue between her lips, teasing her, tasting heat and sweetness. He felt her stir restlessly against him and he groaned softly, his groin tightening in response as she kissed him back, pressing her mouth to his, then catching his lower lip between her teeth.

Senses swimming, he lifted his mouth, his breath snagging in his throat as her hands slid under his shirt, and then he turned his head, breaking the kiss. His pulse seemed to trip and stumble as the scent of her, warm and clean and sweet, filled his nostrils.

‘Prudence...’ he murmured softly. She looked up at him and his stomach clenched, his body growing painfully hard. He saw the struggle within her eyes that so sharply echoed his own. ‘Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.’

The tension inside him was fast, dark and swirling, like a spring tide rising. He could barely breathe for wanting her. Suddenly he was fighting to stay calm.

Reaching out, he touched her cheek gently. ‘Do you want this?’ he asked roughly. The air felt suddenly thick in his throat and he could barely speak. ‘Do you want me?’

She looked up at him and their eyes met, and then she nodded, and her face seemed suddenly to open and uncurl like a flower feeling the sun.

Slowly he let out his breath, and as he traced his thumb over the soft fullness of her mouth, he heard her gasp. A fierce heat engulfed him, for it was the sound of surrender. Desire leapt in his throat and, leaning forward, he lowered his head, brushing his lips over hers.

‘I want to see you. All of you,’ he whispered hoarsely.

In the darkness of the room her eyes looked feverish, almost glazed, and her soft pink mouth was trembling. Reaching out, he undid the fastening of her trousers and gently pushed them down over her hips. Straightening up, he watched dry-mouthed as she unbuttoned her blouse with trembling hands and shrugged it off, so that she was undressed except for the palest pink bra and panties.

Time slowed and Laszlo gazed at her, heart thudding, wordless, waiting. Heat seemed to burn every inch of him and his head was spinning wildly.

‘Take them off,’ he said finally, and slowly she unhooked the bra and peeled it from her shoulders.

His breath rasped in his throat as he stared at her small upturned breasts. She was so beautiful. Helplessly, he reached out and pulled her towards him, sliding his hands slowly up her thighs, over her hips and waist to her breasts, his thumbs brushing against them until he heard her cry out in pleasure.

Then suddenly, he was guiding her back towards the sofa, tugging his shirt off at the same time, wanting to feel the touch of her skin against his. Breathing deeply, he wrenched off his shirt. His eyes never leaving her face, he moved swiftly towards her, straddling her legs and pressing his mouth against the petal-smooth softness of her throat, then lower to the curve of her breast. His lips grazed the rose-coloured nipple, feeling it quiver and harden, and then his mouth closed over the tip, his tongue sliding over it, taking his time.

Blood was roaring in his head, swelling and rolling, humming like a cloud of bees about to swarm. Blindly he reached out and cupped her bottom, lifting her against him. He heard her gasp, felt her arch closer as his hands moved slowly over her hips and between her thighs. He felt her still beneath him as his hand caressed the apex of her thighs, brushing over the already damp silk. Gently he slid her panties over the curve of her bottom. Her fingers gripped the muscles of his arm and she whispered his name, and then her hand moved down over his chest and stomach and she was tugging at the buckle of his belt.

He groaned as she unzipped him, her fingers curling around him, freeing him. Trembling, his breath quickening in his throat, he shifted his weight, moving between her knees, spreading her legs. Her hips lifted to meet him and he pushed up, entering her with a gasp. He heard her answering moan of pleasure and began to move, thrusting inside her.

She clutched him tighter, her body shuddering, her hands tangling through his hair, pressing against him, pressing and pressing—and then she tensed and he heard her cry out. As he felt her flower beneath him he thrust hard, his muscles rippling, his breath choking in hi

s throat and his body spilling inside her.

He lay still and spent. Her body was still gripping him tightly, and gently he caressed her warm, damp skin, feeling the spasms of her body fade. The sound of the rain was deafening now and he was grateful, for it blotted out the frantic beating of his heart.

Breathing unsteadily, he buried his face in her neck, trying to sort out his thoughts. It had been inevitable, he told himself bleakly. Since that moment in the barn the sexual tension between them had been ratcheted up to breaking point. Every single time they’d met it had felt like a minor earthquake. And today, finally, they’d snapped. His heart began to beat faster. It was only natural.

He frowned. But that didn’t make it right. He glanced down at the woman lying in his arms. In the barn, he had ached with wanting her. Her refusal to give in to the powerful sexual attraction they had for one another had been infuriating, not to say painful. He sighed. But now he wondered whether by giving in to that hunger he’d merely set himself up for another sort of discomfort.

His breathing slowed. Hypothetically, it was easy to fall into bed with a woman to whom you had no commitment. There was no need for post-coital conversation or affection. No need even to see her again. But Prudence wasn’t just any woman. She was his wife and pretty much nothing about their relationship was easy.

Feeling her shift against him, he frowned. Now he’d added another layer of complexity to their already tangled relationship. In fact, he was struggling to work out how to even describe what was going on between them—for while he was ostensibly her husband, he was also her boss...and now her lover.


Tags: Louise Fuller Billionaire Romance

Read The Vows Made in Secret Page 25 - Read Online Free

Page 25 of Vows Made in Secret

Page List


Font:  

Knocked off balance by the unexpected gentleness in his eyes, she stood half swaying against him. Her blood was singing and heat and confusion crackled under her skin. Looking up, she saw that the sky had grown dark. The air felt suddenly viscous and heavy. A storm was coming.

‘It’s these shoes. The soles are slippery,’ she mumbled, her cheeks suddenly hot.

‘Don’t worry. I’ve got you,’ he said calmly.

Holding her breath, she felt his grip on her hand tighten as the first drops of rain splashed onto her face.

They ran towards the cottage, stopping at the door to face one another.

‘I guess I don’t need that water any more,’ he said hoarsely.

Heart pounding, Prudence stared at him. She knew he was giving her a choice. But what choice was there really? Wordlessly she stepped towards him and then, by way of reply, she reached up, slid her arm around his neck and pressed a desperate kiss against his mouth.

Groaning, he pulled her against him, pushing the door open with his body and kicking it shut behind them both. Her mouth parted beneath his and he pulled her towards him, capturing her face between his hands. Grunting, he pulled lightly at the knot at the nape of her neck, tugging her hair free, weaving his fingers between the silken strands.

She moaned, curling her fingers into his shirt, and he deepened the kiss, slowly, languidly sliding his tongue between her lips, teasing her, tasting heat and sweetness. He felt her stir restlessly against him and he groaned softly, his groin tightening in response as she kissed him back, pressing her mouth to his, then catching his lower lip between her teeth.

Senses swimming, he lifted his mouth, his breath snagging in his throat as her hands slid under his shirt, and then he turned his head, breaking the kiss. His pulse seemed to trip and stumble as the scent of her, warm and clean and sweet, filled his nostrils.

‘Prudence...’ he murmured softly. She looked up at him and his stomach clenched, his body growing painfully hard. He saw the struggle within her eyes that so sharply echoed his own. ‘Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.’

The tension inside him was fast, dark and swirling, like a spring tide rising. He could barely breathe for wanting her. Suddenly he was fighting to stay calm.

Reaching out, he touched her cheek gently. ‘Do you want this?’ he asked roughly. The air felt suddenly thick in his throat and he could barely speak. ‘Do you want me?’

She looked up at him and their eyes met, and then she nodded, and her face seemed suddenly to open and uncurl like a flower feeling the sun.

Slowly he let out his breath, and as he traced his thumb over the soft fullness of her mouth, he heard her gasp. A fierce heat engulfed him, for it was the sound of surrender. Desire leapt in his throat and, leaning forward, he lowered his head, brushing his lips over hers.

‘I want to see you. All of you,’ he whispered hoarsely.

In the darkness of the room her eyes looked feverish, almost glazed, and her soft pink mouth was trembling. Reaching out, he undid the fastening of her trousers and gently pushed them down over her hips. Straightening up, he watched dry-mouthed as she unbuttoned her blouse with trembling hands and shrugged it off, so that she was undressed except for the palest pink bra and panties.

Time slowed and Laszlo gazed at her, heart thudding, wordless, waiting. Heat seemed to burn every inch of him and his head was spinning wildly.

‘Take them off,’ he said finally, and slowly she unhooked the bra and peeled it from her shoulders.

His breath rasped in his throat as he stared at her small upturned breasts. She was so beautiful. Helplessly, he reached out and pulled her towards him, sliding his hands slowly up her thighs, over her hips and waist to her breasts, his thumbs brushing against them until he heard her cry out in pleasure.

Then suddenly, he was guiding her back towards the sofa, tugging his shirt off at the same time, wanting to feel the touch of her skin against his. Breathing deeply, he wrenched off his shirt. His eyes never leaving her face, he moved swiftly towards her, straddling her legs and pressing his mouth against the petal-smooth softness of her throat, then lower to the curve of her breast. His lips grazed the rose-coloured nipple, feeling it quiver and harden, and then his mouth closed over the tip, his tongue sliding over it, taking his time.

Blood was roaring in his head, swelling and rolling, humming like a cloud of bees about to swarm. Blindly he reached out and cupped her bottom, lifting her against him. He heard her gasp, felt her arch closer as his hands moved slowly over her hips and between her thighs. He felt her still beneath him as his hand caressed the apex of her thighs, brushing over the already damp silk. Gently he slid her panties over the curve of her bottom. Her fingers gripped the muscles of his arm and she whispered his name, and then her hand moved down over his chest and stomach and she was tugging at the buckle of his belt.

He groaned as she unzipped him, her fingers curling around him, freeing him. Trembling, his breath quickening in his throat, he shifted his weight, moving between her knees, spreading her legs. Her hips lifted to meet him and he pushed up, entering her with a gasp. He heard her answering moan of pleasure and began to move, thrusting inside her.

She clutched him tighter, her body shuddering, her hands tangling through his hair, pressing against him, pressing and pressing—and then she tensed and he heard her cry out. As he felt her flower beneath him he thrust hard, his muscles rippling, his breath choking in hi

s throat and his body spilling inside her.

He lay still and spent. Her body was still gripping him tightly, and gently he caressed her warm, damp skin, feeling the spasms of her body fade. The sound of the rain was deafening now and he was grateful, for it blotted out the frantic beating of his heart.

Breathing unsteadily, he buried his face in her neck, trying to sort out his thoughts. It had been inevitable, he told himself bleakly. Since that moment in the barn the sexual tension between them had been ratcheted up to breaking point. Every single time they’d met it had felt like a minor earthquake. And today, finally, they’d snapped. His heart began to beat faster. It was only natural.

He frowned. But that didn’t make it right. He glanced down at the woman lying in his arms. In the barn, he had ached with wanting her. Her refusal to give in to the powerful sexual attraction they had for one another had been infuriating, not to say painful. He sighed. But now he wondered whether by giving in to that hunger he’d merely set himself up for another sort of discomfort.

His breathing slowed. Hypothetically, it was easy to fall into bed with a woman to whom you had no commitment. There was no need for post-coital conversation or affection. No need even to see her again. But Prudence wasn’t just any woman. She was his wife and pretty much nothing about their relationship was easy.

Feeling her shift against him, he frowned. Now he’d added another layer of complexity to their already tangled relationship. In fact, he was struggling to work out how to even describe what was going on between them—for while he was ostensibly her husband, he was also her boss...and now her lover.


Tags: Louise Fuller Billionaire Romance