Free The Rebel and His Bride by Bonnie Pega Page B

her legs. When he’d found her slick heat, he caressed her until she shivered and clutched at him, until her eyes widened in joyous pleasure and she cried out his name.Only then did he shed his jeans, removing a foil packet from his back pocket.
    “That sure of yourself,” she murmured breathlessly
.
    “Where you’re concerned?” His voice was hoarse with passion. “No. Just hopeful. Eternally hopeful.” He hurriedly rolled on the protection, then returned to her waiting arms. “I’ve been ready for this since the day we met,” he said against her throat. “Are you ready?”
    She nodded and braced herself for the sharp pain she expected. What she didn’t expect were the shivers of pleasure that followed. She opened her eyes and saw Gregory’s face above her, his eyes closed, his jaw tight, as he fought a battle of self-control. Finally, he opened his eyes and smiled at her as he began to move against her. She knew that for as long as she lived, she’d never be able to forget his face—strong and tender, his eyes hazy with desire
.
    He slid a hand between their bodies and stroked her until she cried out again. She felt as though she were coming apart and the only thing keeping her together was his arms around her
.
    Later she lay with her head on his chest as he cuddled her close, his hands caressing her. He pressed little kisses to the top of her head, and she smiled as she tunneled her fingers through the soft curls on his chest and nuzzled his neck. Gradually their caresses became more serious as the passion flared again, but Annabelle winced when he touched her. “Oh Gregory, I don’t know if I can so soon.”
    He smiled tenderly and kissed her. “That’s okay,babe. There are other ways to make love,” he said and slowly began to move down her body, his lips—
    “What?” Annabelle sat up in bed, her heart pounding, her body slick with perspiration. Her gaze met the inscrutable glowing eyes of the cat, who’d apparently just jumped onto the bed, jostling her awake.
    She sighed and hugged her knees. Some dream, she thought. Her breasts felt swollen, aching to be touched. The rest of her felt warm and slick and ready—and frustrated as hell. She sighed again and flopped back onto her pillow, staring up at the ceiling. After about five minutes of this unproductive activity, she sat back up, turned on her light and searched through her nightstand for a book, all the while wondering why her traitorous body couldn’t listen to her infinitely more sensible head. For once.
    Gregory flopped over on his stomach, though he was careful not to land on the erection that he’d awakened with after an especially sexy dream. He pulled his pillow over his head, but that didn’t shut out the memories—or shut off his brain.
    He’d dreamed about the first time he’d made love with Annabelle. She’d been shy and self-conscious and so sweetly passionate that he’d nearly lost his mind. He’d known it was her first time and he’d been determined to take it slow for her. His efforts had been hampered by a desire that hadgrown to nearly painful proportions in the past three months he’d known her, a desire fed by his equally intense love.
    Though he hadn’t said anything, it had been a first for him as well—the first time he’d ever made love with someone he was really in love with. The experience had been shattering in its intensity, and as he’d lain awake long after she’d fallen asleep in his arms, he’d allowed himself to dream and to plan.
    First they’d move in together. After he graduated and secured a job—maybe with Greenpeace or the Save the Bay Foundation—they’d get married. It would be tough financially for a while, at least until Annabelle had finished college, too, but they’d make it. They’d make it because their love would last forever. They would last forever.
    They’d only lasted four more months.
    Gregory peered out from beneath his pillow at the lighted dial of his clock. It