Free The Wedding Bed (The Sun Never Sets, Book One) by Ava Archer Payne

her lower lip. “I…I see.”
    “Do you?”
    She shook her head. “ No. But perhaps if we waited…”
    “Waited?”
    “Yes. If we just had more time to—”
    Whatever she might have said next was lost as he tucked his arm around the small of her back and pulled her tightly to him. He pressed his body against her own until she could feel every unyielding, muscled inch of his hard, male form.
    Calla stiff ened, bracing herself for the physical onslaught she was certain would follow. But there was no hint of force or domination in his embrace. In fact, just the opposite was true. He lowered his head, slanting his lips over hers. His touch was infinitely light, a mere whisper of a kiss that made her breath catch in her throat and brought her senses to life. A kiss so soft and unexpected, so rich with promise, it made her ache for more.
    The heat of his body seeped through the thin fabric of her gown , warming her as no fire ever had. The heady, masculine scent of his skin swirled around her. Derek was a rock-solid mass of tightly restrained power, a fact which only served to heighten her curiosity. Breathless anticipation surged through her veins like the swell of evening tide. She leaned into him, tacitly begging for more.
    Applying th e subtle pressure of his jaw, he gently coaxed her lips apart and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She stiffened in surprise, then relaxed as a jolt of fiery, erotic pleasure sizzled through her. His tongue glided over hers, thrusting, plundering, exploring the silky recesses of her mouth. She tasted champagne on his tongue, and something else, something foreign and male that she instinctively recognized as uniquely Derek.
    Her husband. This mysterious man was hers to touch, to taste.
    No sooner had that thought formed when he shifted slightly. Without breaking their kiss, he slipped his thigh between her legs, gently pulling her body forward so that she was straddling his knee. She grasped his shoulders for support as he moved his thigh up and down between hers, softly rocking her against him as they kissed. The steady, rolling motion between her legs set off a chain of reactions within her. A shiver raced down her spine, followed by a churning heat that pooled low in her belly. Her breath hitched and a husky moan escaped her lips.
    Derek pulled back at that, his smoky gaze searching her face. A hint of something that looked like surprise glittered in his dark, hungry gaze. Calla returned his stare, unable to speak. Never in her life had she imagined anything like this .
    Minutes earlier she had wanted to run. Now she couldn’t imagine turning away. She felt intoxicated, dizzy with desire. Her lips felt swollen, her breathing ragged, her skin impossibly tender. Passion. She’d heard the word before, but never until that moment did it hold any meaning for her.
    Raw, naked greed bubbled up in her. Unable to stop herself, she reached for him. Her fingers curled into the soft white linen of his shirt, pulling him toward her. A low groan tore from his lips as his mouth captured hers. His hands moved over her body once again, but no longer with the light, gentle caress she had experience earlier. Instead he touched her with a fierce possessiveness, as though marking her body as his.
    His touch was bold, wildly intimate, primitive. He massaged her breasts, the swell of her hips, her waist. He ran his hands down her spine, cupping her buttocks to pull her ever closer to him, until she became conscious of the shocking length of his erection pressing against her thigh.
    She’d barely accustomed herself to that sensation when he shifted abruptly, lifting her as though she weighed no more than a child and settling her across his lap. Dragging his lips away from hers, he pressed his mouth against the satiny skin exposed by the bodice of her soft, rose-colored gown. He kissed the top of her breasts, her collar bone, and the nape of her neck, using his lips to explore the very places his hands had