Free A Husband's Regret (The Unwanted Series) by Natasha Anders Page A

lost in the memory of her dream. She lifted a hand to his face. She loved the feel of his stubbled jaw beneath her hand. He made a slight sound and abruptly lowered his head to capture her soft, surprised lips with his hard and demanding mouth. The kiss was a lot more ruthless than she had anticipated; she had been expecting gentleness, not this almost violent caress. Still it was Bryce , her beloved Bryce, and she would deny him nothing. His kiss softened and became almost desperate as he leaned into her and over her, until she was flat on her back and he was cradled between her spread thighs. He loomed above her, not once relinquishing contact with her soft mouth, and she moaned as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, not wanting to let him go ever again.
    He eventually came up for air and fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, while she tugged at his T-shirt and dragged it over his head before he had managed even half of the buttons. Losing patience, he ripped the fragile garment apart, sending mother-of-pearl buttons flying everywhere. Bronwyn giggled and Bryce stilled abruptly.
    “I’ve missed your laughter . . .” The sound of his sexy, smoky voice startled her into complete wakefulness. “I always loved your laugh.” He sounded so wistful that Bronwyn wished she could see his face. She raised a curious hand to his mouth but he leaned back, denying her the contact.
    “Bryce what . . .” she started to say, but he cursed softly before leaning to the side and switching on the bedside lamp. The unwelcome present immediately forced its way into the bedroom as Bronwyn found herself staring up into the rough-hewn features of an older, harsher Bryce than the one she’d just dreamed about. This was not the man she had fallen in love with; this man was battle scarred and hated her more than she had ever believed possible.
    “I want to see you,” he muttered harshly. “When you speak, I want to know what you’re saying! When you laugh, I want to see your eyes light up, and when I make you come”—his voice lowered sexily—“I want to see you scream even if I can’t hear it.”
    “I don’t think . . .” she began uncertainly, preferring to make love with him in the dark, where she could fool herself into believing that he was the old Bryce, the one who had pretended to love her, even if he now claimed that he never had. A shaft of agony pierced through her as she recalled his confession at dinner, and she tried to move away from him but he would not permit it. He pinned her down, his eyes boring into hers, so that she was unable to hide her pain from him. His brows lowered into an intimidating frown, and she flinched, wondering what scathing remark he had in store for her this time.
    “You were crying at dinner,” he said almost accusingly.
    “What do you expect?” she asked bitterly. “You can’t keep cutting me without spilling my blood, Bryce.”
    “Such drama.” He grinned caustically. “Don’t cry again, it irritates me!” The demand was so ridiculously petulant that she gaped at him in astonishment. He took advantage of her open mouth and swooped in for another hungry kiss.
    “I want you,” he groaned, grinding against her so that she would have no trouble mistaking his meaning. “I want to make love with you.” He raised his head to look down at her, trying to gauge her receptiveness.
    “Only it’s not ‘making love,’ is it?” she asked bitterly. “Without love it’s nothing more than a cheap screw.” He made a dismayed little sound and covered her mouth with his own before she could say anything more. Bronwyn soon forgot everything as his mouth wove a seductive spell over her. His wicked fingers seemed to be everywhere at the same time, and his mouth soon followed.
    He paused when he reached her braless breasts and he stared at them for a long moment. Bronwyn squirmed uncomfortably as she fought the desire to fold her arms over her petite assets. She had always