Beyond Innocence Read Online Free PDF Page B

maid—" she gasped, but her little bosom was heaving up and down. Edward watched it, telling himself he did not wish she were lush instead of lithe, or dark instead of blonde, and that he would not rather she tremble instead of pant.
    "Damn the maid." Cupping her breast, he nipped its reddened peak. "Let her get an eyeful."
    Imogene laughed and wound her arms behind his neck. "Oh, yes," she purred, crushing her groin to the clothbound arch of his sex. "I like you in this mood."
    Their embrace became a skirmish, with Imogene fighting to get on top. Edward used his strength against her, something he had not done in all their times together. She did not seem to mind. In truth, she seemed to like it. Her languor abandoned her. She clutched him as if she could not get enough of his muscle and skin, her hands tearing at his clothes, her throat vibrating with desperate cries.
    "Oh, please," she begged when he refused to let her open his trousers. "Please, Edward."
    Perversely, he knelt above her, straddling her narrow nips, holding her down with one hand spread between her trembling breasts. With the other, he opened his trouser buttons. As the strain gave way, new blood rushed into tissues already full. He had never been this hard, this needy, and yet he found himself not in the moment but seeing it from a distance. She was lovely, Lady Hargreave, all blonde and pink and eager, her youth wasted on a man twelve years her senior. Edward was what she needed. She had said so many times. Only he could scratch the itch that left her tossing in her bed.
    He pushed his trousers to his hips, even that light friction a goad. The air was cool on his fiery skin. Look, he thought. Here's what you want.
    Imogene looked, her eyes seeming to glaze as she took in the thick red thrust of his erection. Edward studied it himself: the heavy veins, the nervously jumping sack, the sheen of hunger on the bulbous tip. Why did women want this ugly beast? And why did the sight of it, the feel of it hard and ready, imbue him with a sense of power?
    She sighed as she watched it pulse in defiance of gravity's pull. Despite his hold, her hands found him, stroked him, teased him until he ached to drive inside her. He ground his teeth rather than give in. He did not know why, only that something compelled him to delay.
    "Fuck me," she whispered, her body writhing between his knees. "I want you inside me."
    But he touched her first, because he did not wish to be agreeable. He touched her with his hard male fingers, parting her tangled golden hair. Arousal soaked her delicate folds and plumped her tiny pearl. His fingers slid around the swollen bud. She groaned as he teased it, melting as she never had before,
her fair locks clinging to her temples, the pillow rustling as she lashed her head against the chaise. This was what he wanted, to make her helpless, and yet it did not satisfy the formless need inside his soul. With a growl of frustration, he wrenched her legs wide. Enough preliminaries. He would take her and
be damned.
    He notched her gate and plunged, but found no resistance beyond the stricture of her size.
    "Oh, yes," she said, encouraging him to work his engine in. "Oh, yes."
    Her knees rose, squeezed the ribs beneath his arms. Back and forth they rocked until her body eased and took him, until his thighs tightened to penetrate the final inch. He stopped and held inside her, his body shaking with desire.
    "You're a monster," she breathed, her face white, her pupils huge. "You're the biggest fucking cock I've ever had."
    For once he did not doubt this silly claim. He felt like the biggest. He felt as if he could screw the entire world. Her fingers trailed down his spine to grip his straining buttocks.
    "Now," she urged. "Do it."
    At last, he was willing to comply. With a mutual groan, they thrust in tandem, strongly, smoothly,
    both selfishly eager to reach their ends. Beyond control, Imogene's nails broke the surface of his skin. Edward grunted and