Free A Shocking Proposition by Elizabeth Rolls Page B

that suggested he was trying very hard not to laugh. “That’s a little agricultural.”
    “Well, what is it called then?” she demanded.
    He grinned outright. “We’ll get to that. Right now,” and his gaze heated, “I’m much more interested in making love again. And this time we’re going to do it properly.”
    Properly? “Didn’t we do it properly before?” she asked. “I mean, I didn’t know what—”
    “You did it properly,” he assured her. “I didn’t.”
    She blinked. She’d brought enough bulls, rams and the occasional horse to tup, to know that it was perfectly possible she was already carrying his child. Surely that constituted doing it properly?
    “But—”
    “Properly, Maddy.” And his voice was a promise. Or a threat, depending on how you viewed the blaze in his eyes. “Or perhaps,” he murmured, coming toward her, “I should say we’re going to do it improperly. Extremely improperly.” Definitely a threat. Her breath lodged in her throat as he set his fingers to the buttons of her nightgown and began to undo them. Button by button, he undid the nightgown, undid her , until the gown hung open and her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her ribs.
    Ash’s mouth dried at the sight as he reached for control. For the strength not to simply rip the gown from her, throw her on the bed and ravish her. That prim, demure, lace-edged linen gown was possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He steadied his breathing. Light and shadow played over her, over the half-revealed sweetness of delicately curved breasts, the slender sweep of her waist and the swell of her hips. Hands shaking, he pushed the gown from her shoulders.
    She gave a startled gasp as it pooled on the bed, leaving her naked to the waist. In a defensive gesture her arms came up to shield her breasts. He smiled, and encircled her wrists gently. “Are you going to be shy with me?”
    She flushed and bit her lip so that he immediately wanted to nip at it just there himself. Nip it and soothe it with his tongue. He leaned forward and kissed her.
    He was lost in wonder as he kissed his way down her throat, heard the gasps and moans she tried to hold back. She lost the battle as his mouth closed gently over her breast and he sucked. She arched on a moan and he bit with exquisite care.
    His control nearly broke at the soft scream, but he hung on. This time she was going to have everything he could give her before he took her. Every pleasure, every delight. Slowly, he released her breast, eased back, straightened.
    Her eyes opened, and she looked down at his hand, tanned against the cream silk of her breast, his fingers gentle on the damp pink nipple.
    “May I touch you?” she asked softly.
    His lungs locked at the husky tone in her voice. “Please.”
    One small hand reached out and she traced the curve of his shoulder, trailed her fingertips along his biceps, igniting fires in her wake. He gritted his teeth and hung on to his sanity while she discovered his chest. One finger circled a nipple and he groaned as it tightened.
    “Ash?” Uncertainty quivered in her voice and the fingertip slowed.
    “Don’t stop,” he told her. He didn’t care if it killed him.
    “Oh.” The fingertip took up its travels again. “You kissed me. There.”
    His mind blanked. That probably would kill him. “I’d like that, too.” And took a death grip on his control as her wet, warm mouth closed over his nipple. She bit very gently and he groaned at the fierce pleasure. “Is there anything else you’d like?” she whispered against his hungry flesh.
    Aching, he grasped her hand, led it lower.
    “There?” she whispered.
    “Oh, yes,” he breathed. And then stopped breathing as she stroked his straining length, explored him with a shy curiosity that nearly unmanned him. Shaking, he closed her fingers around him, showed her how to reduce him to burning, savage need.
    “Enough,” he said at last, and eased her hand away, clamping down