Free Jade Lee by Winning a Bride

much being told and not enough telling.
    “I don’t know,” she said, her voice raspy.
    “And your head hurts from the struggle, your chest feels tight, and you think of running naked in the creek while you scream at the moon.”
    “How can you know that?”
    “How can you think you are the only one?”
    She dropped her head back against the tree trunk, defeat and acceptance in every line of her body. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
    “I have already told you,” he said as he leaned his body slowly—inevitably—against hers. “I’m tired of waiting.”
    Then he stood there, leaning everything against her. His thighs, his groin, even his chest, but not his face. He kept apart from her by the space of a breath. And he waited while she froze against him.
    Clearly, she’d never felt a man before. Not like this. Did she even know how the act was done? She had to. She was too old not to know. But he was damn sure no man had ever touched her like this. Never pressed his burning cock against her hips the way he was. Or crowded her until she either had to kick him or give in.
    But she didn’t move. She was frozen like the virgin she was. So he taunted her in the way they usually conversed. He gave her a shot of normalcy even when what he was doing was very abnormal for them both.
    “Frozen deer get shot. If you want to defend yourself, you lift your knee hard. As hard as—”
    “I know!” she said, her breath short enough to make the two words a curse. And yet she didn’t move, though he stood there with his legs spread enough to make his balls tighten in fear.
    “And if you don’t move, Miss Josephine,” he made her name a caress, “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
    “No!” she said, though her voice was a whisper.
    “Yes.” But still he didn’t kiss her. She expected it because he watched her lick her lips. She knew something of kissing then. So he didn’t do what she expected. Instead, he touched the tight bud of her left breast, her nipple taut and inviting.
    He rolled his thumb over it, scraping it with his nail. Back and forth while she gasped and jerked her body against his. She didn’t want to react like that. He could tell that much. But when her hands lifted to knock him away, she stopped. Instead, she gripped his forearm, but she didn’t push him back. And that set his blood on fire.
    He didn’t stop. He just continued to scrape his nail back and forth across her nipple. Her breath grew tight. Her head dropped to expose the white column of her neck. How easy it would be to start kissing there and then trail downward. How simple a thing to rip apart the thin material of her dress and feast upon her breasts.
    Simple enough that he had a moment of doubt. Perhaps she was not the virgin he assumed, and his words turned crude in anger. “Have you done this before, Miss Josephine? Have you had a man at your teats?”
    She shook her head, oblivious to his temper. “No,” she whispered. “Never.”
    He looked at her mouth, her lips parted as her breath came in short pants. “But you have kissed before. You have kissed men and they have invaded your mouth with their tongues.”
    “Twice,” she said.
    “And did you like it?” he pressed.
    “I…” She swallowed. “No.”
    “But you like this,” he said as he shifted his weight against her. He wanted access to the other breast, but the roll of his cock against her hips had him groaning in hunger.
    She echoed him. He hadn’t expected it, and the sound went straight through his brain to his organ. Without intending to, he thrust against her. The rub, the pressure, and the womanly softness of her body made him growl like the beast he was.
    But he didn’t stop. Neither did he stop his other hand as he squeezed her right breast.
    “You are no gentleman,” she said, her accusation low and almost inaudible.
    “All you need do is lift your knee.”
    “No,” she whispered.
    “Then shall I do more?”
    She opened her eyes