Free Unwrapping Her Perfect Match: A London Legends Christmas Novella by Kat Latham Page A

kit and a pair of tight white briefs that left nothing to
the imagination.
    Determined to give him privacy, Gwen turned
away and walked to his wardrobe—but not before catching the outline
of an erection that bordered on scary. She chose a T-shirt and
walked down the hall to the bathroom, where she finger-brushed her
teeth and changed clothes. The shirt came down to midthigh, and she
smiled to herself at the novelty of having found a man who gave her
the one gift she’d never thought she could have—feeling dainty.
    By the time she got back to the bedroom, John
was curled onto his side under the duvet. She slid into the bed
next to him, waiting for sleep to claim her. But sleep was a long
time coming. She passed the time listening to his deep breathing
and pretending she was asleep when he curled his big arm over her
waist and hooked it across her breasts. With his reassuring warmth
pressed into her back, she finally relaxed enough to drift
away.

 
     
     
Six
     
     
    Soft flesh pressing against his erection woke
John from a lusty dream. Only half-awake—if that—he indulged his
body’s natural desires, tightening his grip on a feminine hip so he
could press himself harder against the softness that felt so, so
good. So right.
    The cotton-covered bum in front of him
wriggled. Circled. Let him fit himself into her cleft, where he
changed his rhythm. Up and down he rubbed, as if he’d penetrated
her already.
    Gwen. He knew without opening his eyes this
bum was hers. It was more than just the memory of her heading to
his bedroom with him last night. It was the fact that he’d
fantasized about waking up with her every morning since the first
time he’d held her. A tiny moan escaped from her throat. He slid
his hand from her hip over her soft belly, over her
T-shirt—probably his T-shirt—up to her throat until he could tilt
her head back. He exposed the line of her throat to his mouth,
pressed open kisses from her jaw to her shoulder, dragging a
fistful of cotton down to get the hollow of skin above her
collarbone.
    “John?” she whispered. As if she’d just woken
up. As if she hadn’t known what she was doing when she’d rubbed
against him. Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe her physical response had been
as instinctual as his.
    “Mmm. Morning.” At least, he assumed it was
morning. His head felt a hell of a lot better. The room was still
dark, though, so maybe he’d only had a very healing few hours of
sleep. He nuzzled her where her neck met her chest, softly licking
the skin before sealing it with a kiss. “Sleep well?”
    “Still asleep,” she mumbled. But her arms
came up and looped around his neck, holding him close while she
buried her face in his hair and inhaled. “Ohhh, this is a lovely
way to stay asleep.”
    He chuckled and let his hands wander to the
hem of the shirt she wore. It bunched around her waist, leaving her
covered by only a pair of panties below. Pulling the hem tight, he
tugged it back and forth across her stomach, easing it up higher
and higher with each pass. He opened his eyes just enough to watch
her reactions, make sure she was okay with where they were going.
She stared back at him with a sleepy gaze, but no hesitation.
Lifting her arms over her head until she flattened her palms
against the headboard, she arched her back enough to help him lift
the shirt higher.
    Fucking hell, every inch of skin he revealed
left him harder than he’d thought possible. Her skin grew softer
and softer the higher the shirt went, until the bottom curves of
her large breasts were bare to him. He stopped, pulling the shirt
tight across her nipples. Her moan and eager, shifting legs
could’ve made him come in his pants, but he somehow managed to hang
on to his control.
    “John. More.”
    He slowly lifted the shirt to reveal her
tight, pink nipples. Dark pink. Everything else about her was so
fair he could’ve mistaken her for a Norse goddess. But she was
real. And she was in his bed.
    “You are so