Free THE EARL'S PREGNANT BRIDE by Christine Rimmer - THE BRAVO ROYALES (BRAVO FAMILY TIES #41) 08 - THE EARL'S PREGNANT BRIDE Page B

mad.
    She clutched the sheet in her fists and lifted herself higher, tighter against that thrilling, relentless kiss. Heat curled up her spine, exploded across her chest, and then raced back down to her core, where it opened her up, hollowed her out, sent currents of pleasure pulsing along every burning nerve.
    And he went on kissing her.
    When she came, crying out his name, he only kept on using his rough tongue, soft lips and sharp teeth to make her come again.
    And then, after the third time, when she was limp and drowsing, and hardly able to move, he swept up her body and covered her, bracing on his forearms to keep from crushing her.
    Rafe. All over her, pressing her down in the most delicious way. His erection nestled, hard and so ready, right where she wanted him. Right where she needed him.
    She groaned, aroused all over again. A moment before, she’d been limp. Finished.
    That hadn’t lasted long.
    She groaned again, sliding her arms around him, down low at his waist. And then lower. She clutched his rock-hard buttocks in either hand—so good, the feel of his tight skin and hard muscles under her palms, the slick of sweat between their bodies, the press of him, there, where she was so ready for him.
    “Rafe...”
    “Shh...”
    “Please...” She rocked her hips, lifting her legs to wrap them around him, trying to lure him in.
    It worked, to a degree. The tip slid in. And she was so wet and open. Her body called to his.
    Why wouldn’t he answer?
    “Wait,” he whispered. So softly. So patiently.
    She growled low in her throat. “I mean it.” She opened her eyes and looked into his midnight black ones. “I will kill you....”
    The scar pulled at the corner of his lip, a mockery of a smile. “Don’t worry. You have. You are.”
    And suddenly, she not only desperately needed him inside her, she wanted to cry. “I was afraid we would never have this again.”
    “Shh...” He lifted his torso away from her, bracing up on those bulging arms, the hard, thick length of him nudging deliciously deeper within her.
    Twin tears escaped. They ran down her temples into her hair. “You wouldn’t take my calls. I tried so hard to reach you. If not for the baby...”
    “Shh. I didn’t know, didn’t understand. I thought it would be better for you if we didn’t see each other again.”
    “Liar.”
    “I swear it, Gen. It’s true.” He bent his head, kissed her on either cheek and then at her temples, his wonderful, pliant lips brushing the tracks of her tears. “And we
do
have this.” And then he took her mouth in a kiss so sweet and gentle—at first. Until it went deeper, became a tangle of tongues, a nipping of teeth.
    “Now,” she whispered against his lips. “Now, please...”
    And at last, he gave her what she craved, sinking into her slowly, all the way.
    She stared into his eyes as they began to move together. He didn’t look away. He held her gaze endlessly, as the pleasure washed over them.
    It lasted the longest time. She reveled in every stroke, every sigh, every aching, perfect moan.
    Because he was so right.
    No matter, all the questions. All the secrets, the pain, the terrible loss and even the lies.
    They did have this. And it was glorious. Raw and simple and marvelous.
    Together in this, at least, they both were set free.

Chapter Six
    “I was wondering...” He held her close. They had turned off the lights.
    “Mmm?” She floated on a gentle sea of satisfaction.
    “Would you like some kind of wedding trip?” He kissed the top of her head.
    She pressed her lips to the hard curve of his shoulder. “Maybe, sometime...”
    He stroked her hair. “That’s not very specific.”
    “Honestly, for now, I would just like to stay here, at Hartmore, to settle in, work with Eloise in the gardens, spend time with my new husband...”
    He guided her hair behind her ear. “Fair enough. But remember, if all this domesticity starts driving you out of your mind—”
    “It won’t.”
    “Fine, but