The Wicked House of Rohan Read Online Free PDF Page B

him then, pulling at his shirt. She heard his chuckle, and he pulled it over his head and tossed it, then rolled over on top of her, still wearing his breeches, settling between her legs. She could feel that part of him, that thick, insistent bulge against her, and she shivered in reaction, arching up for him, wanting him, needing him.
    He bumped against her, gently, and she cried out, trying to pull him closer. “Slow down, my angel. I want to make this last.”
    â€œI don’t,” she said in a choked voice. “I want you now. I need you.”
    He laughed against her throat, and his fingers moved between her legs again, three now, moving deep into the dampness, stretching her as he stroked her. “I know you do. And I could take you this minute and lose myself in you. But you need to know the pleasure if you’re going to take the pain.” His fingers trailed upward, touching that secret place that made her shiver and cry out. “I want you to unfasten my breeches,” he whispered, as he slid, and then rubbed, and slid, and rubbed, until she thought she’d go mad with it, and she fumbled with his breeches, practically ripping them off him, releasing him.
    She was afraid to touch him, but he took her hand and placed it on his erection, and for a moment she was terrified. That would never fit inside her, it would rip her apart. But he moved her hand on him, cupping her fingers, sliding her fist up and down the way her body would grip him, and the excitement built again, wiping out her fear. This had been happening since the dawn of time, and the parts were made to fit together, even if it seemed unlikely. She ran her fingers over the head, and felt his dampness as well, and she wanted more.
    â€œPlease,” she said, stroking him, pulling gently at him, marveling at the hardness beneath the silken skin, and he muttered a low curse.
    â€œYou’re being difficult,” he chided her. “And if you keep doing that I won’t be able to hold out.”
    â€œI don’t want you to hold out. I want you…”
    â€œWhere do you want me, Miss Strong?” he whispered in her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and biting lightly.
    She groaned in unexpected pleasure. “Inside me,” she said.
    â€œThen let’s get this virginity done with, shall we?” he said with a laugh, and he pushed her legs apart, settling down, the head of him resting against her. He pushed in, just a little bit, and she knew a slight burning along with exquisite pleasure. Yes, this was what she wanted. This was where he belonged, the joining that would stay forever in her heart. He pushed deeper, and the pain increased, as well as the joy. She put her arms around him, sliding her hands up his sleek, beautiful back, and then she tugged at him, lifting her hips.
    â€œMore,” she said.
    â€œOh, God,” he moaned, and thrust deep, breaking through the barrier and coming up hard against her.
    It hurt. She couldn’t help it, she cried out, and for a moment the pain was searing. And then as quickly as it came it began to recede, not completely, but to a point where it was simply a reminder that this was part of the price.
    He was holding very still, looking down at her. “Are you all right?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid I hurt you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDo you want me to stop?”
    â€œGod, no,” she said, holding him tight against her. There was more, she knew it, and it was just out of reach, but already she was feeling waves of pleasure, the feeling of rightness. “It feels…wonderful.”
    He began to move then, a slow, gentle withdrawal and surge to get her used to the feel of him. He did it again, and it felt better. “More,” she said, and he laughed, thrusting deeper, and she took it without pain, glorying in the feel of him tight inside her, filling her, joined so tightly they might never be truly apart again.
    She felt