The Duke Takes a Bride (Entitled Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

then spat out “-thing between us. Christ! I should’ve never touched you in the first place.”
    She swallowed the lump in her throat and averted her face to hide the hurt his words inflicted, but he was quick. He must have glimpsed something on her face because his tone suddenly became contrite. “Imogen, bloody hell, I’m sorry-”
    Imogen refused to hear any more. She didn’t want his apology. She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. She tried to dislodge him by bucking her hips, but the action only drove him in deeper.
    A low sound escaped his throat.
    Oh, God. Julian was now completely and deeply lodged inside her. Her body had accommodated him. The sharp pain was gone, replaced by a slight burning sensation and the novel sensation of fullness. She tentatively thrust her hips upward, even if she doubted there was any place left inside her for him to go deeper.
    His breath came out on a hiss. “Imogen, stop moving.”
    She felt him twitch inside her. Amazed, she moved, bolder this time now that the pain of his possession had subsided into a slight discomfort.
    “I told you not to move!” She could see little beads of perspiration on his forehead, the muscles of his arms coiling with tension. “Christ, you’re so tight.”
    Imogen was suddenly seized by the heady power of making Julian lose control. She braced her feet on the cushion and bucked her hips off the couch, sharply this time.
    His body jerked violently.
    With a small growl, he grabbed her thighs, splayed it over his haunches, and palmed her breasts. “Tell me, Imogen.”
    “Tell you what?” she moaned as his fingers rolled her nipples.
    “Tell me you want this as badly as I do.” He began thrusting, sliding in and out in a slow rhythm. “Tell me fucking you will be worth my bad judgment.”
    She cupped his clenched jaw and gazed at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “It will be worth it. Please, Julian.”
    “Please what?” he said roughly, watching her face intently as he kept moving in a slow, maddening rhythm inside her.
    “Please,” she said, her voice catching as he retreated, almost pulling out of her. “Please fuck me.”
    A guttural sound escaped him. He started ramming into her faster, harder, and deeper. She clutched the armrest while a litany of “oh shit” rained from her lips. Imogen couldn’t believe she had said those brazen words. Julian provoked this fearless, shameless side of her. She let out a small whimper when he grazed a very sensitive spot.
    “Am I hurting you?” He stilled abruptly, leaned down, and flanked her head with his forearms. He scanned her face, breathing heavily. “Am I hurting you?” he repeated when she temporarily lost her ability to respond.
    Imogen could only shake her head weakly. His mouth descended and claimed hers for an open-mouthed kiss. His tongue plunged and retreated, mimicking the action that began between her legs again.
    “You feel so good.” His tongue licked a fiery trail down her throat, to her chest and to her nipple, swirling on the rigid crest.
    “Julian,” she keened as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back.
    His thrusts grew fiercer, more desperate. He closed his eyes. The muscles in his neck grew taut. She felt everything inside her contract to a tiny point and then explode, scattering fragments of herself all around.
    She heard Julian mutter a low oath, felt him pounding into her savagely, then felt him shudder as his release gripped him violently. He collapsed on top of her, panting for breath.
    “Julian,” she whispered achingly. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, indelibly imprinting the best part of this whole night in her heart – that precious few minutes she had the right to hold him.
    But all illusions had to end.
    He levered himself up on his forearms and pulled away and out of her, his chest still heaving. She winced, her body betraying her. She cursed silently as she saw Julian flinch and edge away from her a few more