The Gypsy and the Widow Read Online Free PDF

bottom through the soft layers of her pale clothing.
    She untied the laces of his shirt and kissed his neck. They sat up and she pulled the shirt over his head and ran her hands over his chest, through the dark hair there. He untied the pink ribbon that held her hair back, then ran his fingers through the silky tresses.
    He stroked the sweet dip of her waist; he kissed her neck and then her shoulders and her breasts where they rose above her dress, loving the feel of her beneath his lips.
    After a while he pulled back and cocked his head. “I have never undressed an Englishwoman before.”
    Laughing, she turned her back to him. “You must undo the hooks and eyes.”
    He struggled with the tiny hooks, and finally the bodice of the dress was undone, but he was met with the lacing of her corset, which he untied, only to be met with yet another row of hooks and eyes on her petticoat.
    “Now I see why the English don’t have as many children as we Gypsies do. By the time a woman is undressed, a man may have lost interest.”
    “It is not necessary to remove a woman’s clothing to make a baby,” she said, her voice sounding bitter. He turned her toward himself and studied her unhappy face, then took her in his arms and began to stroke her hair.
    “Joanna,” he said softly, “life has not been kind to you.”
    She nestled against him. “I have been most fortunate in material ways,” she said, still sounding bitter.
    “But not in the immaterial? Like love and joy?”
    “I have Nash,” she said. “And he brings me such joy.”
    “He is a fine boy, a child one cannot help but love.”
    “Could you love Nash?” She looked up at him with her glorious golden eyes.
    “How could I not love Nash? How could I not love his mother?”
    She made a small surprised sound and her eyes grew wide. “And how can a woman such as I not love a man such as you?”
    They sat there a minute, their gaze locked and their arms around each other. He thought his heart might burst from the combination of joy and desire that rose fiercely within him.
    He helped her up and when she stood he removed her clothing.
    “You are lovely,” he murmured, stepping back to see her better from head to toe. “Even lovelier than I imagined.”
    Her cheeks turned crimson as she said, “I am glad you find me so, for I think you most handsome.”
    He pulled off his shoes and coarse stockings and then his breeches. He felt her gaze on him and heard her sigh softly as his member, his kori , sprang free.
    She stepped close to him and he put his arms around her, holding her tight against himself. He felt her breasts pushing against his chest, his kori hard against her belly. He stroked her naked back and flanks. The fire within him flared upward to his belly, to his heart and higher yet.
    He pulled her onto the bed on top of himself. They kissed deeply as they touched and caressed each other, learning each other’s bodies, rejoicing in them.
    Her breasts were cool and yielding as he stroked and fondled and squeezed them. Finally he brought his lips to her dark nipples and licked and sucked first one and then the other as she writhed and sighed and told him how good it felt. Her hands were firm against his back and sides, her breath fast and rough.
    “Please,” she said, “I want you so much, I can wait no longer.”
    He had not intended to enter her so soon, but he could not refuse her plea, although it pushed him to the edge of his self-control. He parted her legs and knelt between them. First he drank of her lips again and then, slowly, he entered her. Their gaze locked and she smiled. A feeling of love comingled with the consuming fire of lust engulfed him.
    He rocked back and forth and her hips came to meet his, stroke for stroke. Such sweetness, such joy. When he felt his crescendo nearing, he withdrew and, holding her hips, he brought his lips to her gentle folds, ruddy now and wet with her arousal, and kissed, licked, and sucked as she arched and