The Gypsy King Read Online Free PDF Page B

standing up and screaming out her favorite 36

    Morgan Rush
    toast, Ah votre sante !
    She pulled away from his lips and yelled, “Viva la France!” They laughed and fell into the blanket together. She sank, relaxed and melted into his eager mouth, her hand slipping into his wet hair and pulling him closer. It was so perfect she could almost taste champagne on his tongue! Five years of Leone’s brusque, clumsy fumbling did not prepare her for the passion building inside her from just one kiss with Ahndray.
    “ A la votre !” he mumbled into her lips and smiled when she pulled him tighter to her mouth, no doubt so they both would shut up. He pulled away slowly and whispered for her to stay right here. He stood up and she watched the moonlight bathe his shoulders, torso and thick, muscular thighs.
    Even his toes and feet look delicious with the water dripping off them , she said to herself while reaching for one of his Gauloise’s. She struck her match and noticed her hands were shaking, her thighs were quivering and she was literally burning from the inside out. She giggled and uncorked the wine and took a big gulp straight from the bottle. She tossed a few pieces of peppered veal into her mouth and followed it with a chunk of savory Le Brin cheese. She felt like devouring anything within sight as she basked in the luxuriously smooth cotton of the tablecloth rubbing against her lips, still wet from the river and getting much, 37

    The Gypsy King
    much, wetter.
    Using the illumination from her match,
    Ahndray quickly found his shirt, held it in his hands and began methodically fastening every button, including the cuffs. She watched him walk to a large tree a few feet away from their blanket and reach high into the air over and over.
    She laughed but had no idea what he was
    doing. “Higher. Higher!” she yelled up at him.
    Veronique played along with whatever game he was playing and watched him as, over and over, he reached higher, then plunged his hands deeply into the sleeves and body of his shirt.
    After several minutes he returned, a little winded. He offered her his now bulging shirt.
    “Every princess should have a pillow,” he said, bending at the waist like a knight acknowledging royalty.
    Veronique took it and held it to her breast. He had transformed his shirt into a luxurious pillow stuffed with low-hanging, ash-gray Spanish moss.
    She buried her face into his gift, inhaled the woodsy scent and knew it would be softer than the plushest bedding she had ever lain on.
    “Perfect,” she purred, handing him the bottle of wine.
    It was all she could manage to say and she was hoping he didn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes. Veronique scolded herself silently while trying to hide her face by casually flicking the 38

    Morgan Rush
    Gauloise into the river. We’re going way too fast and he’s making me feel things I can’t control, but why can’t I stop myself? Should I stop myself?
    She quizzed herself silently. She was flooded with emotions, but as he stood above her looking down in lust and admiration at her, she unleashed the blanket from around her shoulders and
    revealed herself completely to him. Placing their pillow behind her head, she stretched out like a cat on a hot summer day and the strong, adventurous woman inside her drowned out any of the fearful girl she had left. She gave in to her needs without trepidation. “Show me that thing about the stars, please, mon Ahndray.”
    Ahndray quaffed a mouthful of wine, laughed and fell onto her giggling and biting her neck, then wrapped himself completely around her with his still-wet body. His tongue filled her mouth and he ran his hands over every inch of her body, feeling the water from the river making them both slippery. Finally, he put one of his arms
    underneath hers and up around her shoulder and another firmly around her waist. He held her there and squeezed her so tight she could barely
    breathe. His grip slowed them both down until they