Free The Reluctant Wife by Bronwen Evans

can’t wait to see all of you,” he whispered, his breath feathering the side of her face.
    She pressed closer, her body too impatient to wait for his claiming. His nearness was fast becoming overwhelming. Her mind swam in awakened memories of pleasure as she reveled in the familiar strokes of his fingers.
    His fingers caressed the nape of her neck, slowly tracing the line of the zipper down her spine to the dip in her back. Then both his hands glided lower, cupping her bottom possessively, and pressing her until she molded and fit intimately against him.
    The pressure of his arousal against her was like a homecoming. It didn’t feel awkward or strange. His hardness reassured her that he really desired the woman she had become and that he was more than willing to have her back in his bed, never mind the why.
    He kissed her again, holding nothing back this time, a long, dominating kiss. Its fierce pressure and dark heat told Abby he wanted her just as much as she needed his body. It didn’t matter why she was here. She forgot all about how he’d blackmailed her into his bed. He wanted her, and she was wanting him right back, exulting in the fierce excitement he stirred, dissolving with anticipation, her whole body yearning for him to take her.
    He broke the kiss on a groan. “Turn around, Abby.” Her name was a strained plea.
    She turned, on automatic, his to command. He brushed her hair aside, found the top of her zipper, and slid it slowly downward, a finger trailing on her bared skin. She shivered.
    “So responsive…” The husky tone in his voice evoked a moan from between her lips, erupting from the need he enflamed deep within her.
    She pushed back into him, as avid to stoke his desire as he was hers. She felt his hardness surge against her bottom, filling her with elation at her own power over him as he pushed the dress from her shoulders. It dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap.
    He unclipped her bra expertly and slid his hands around to cup her breasts, kneading their soft fullness.
    “I wish we had more time. I want to luxuriate in the feel of you.”
    Her reply, murmured between swollen lips, was lost as his fingers fanned her nipples into tautness. “God, I’ve missed this.” The words sounded anguished, telling her he loved touching her into aching readiness.
    She leaned against his chest, luxuriating in its warm breadth, at the curls of chest hair tickling her back. Her breasts swelled in his hands. He swung her around to face him.
    “You still have too many clothes on,” she said, tilting her head back so he could see the unclouded need in her eyes.
    She caught his look of surprise, quickly followed by a sparkle of wild, wicked joy. “I’m all yours.” His voice was thick with arousal.
    “Then let me rid you of them.” She could barely get the words out, so hot and needy was her mouth. She’d never taken the lead in their lovemaking, and it sent a deep satisfaction curling through her.
    “With pleasure.” He stepped back and stood proudly before her. Her blood pounded through her veins as she ached and vibrated with the desire to touch him. She ran an eager palm over his nipples and down over each indented ripple of muscle on his stomach, at last letting herself feel his abundant masculinity. Skin against skin.
    His breathing quickened as her palms glided over skin that was silky smooth and pulsing with raw maleness. It overwhelmed her with awe and need. He’s beautiful, he’s strong, he’s powerful . The urgent rise and fall of his chest under her questing hands was exhilarating. It seemed that their hearts hammered in unison, in a perfect merging of need with urgent need…
    He took her hand and guided it lower. “Hurry… No time… I can’t wait…” He was demanding, hoarse with need. His eyes closed as Abby slipped her hand under the edge of Dante’s boxers. He gave a deep groan when her hand closed around him.
    Her sense of being in control was exhilarating. Abby didn’t