89 - A Husband's Regret (Unwanted #2) Page 89

“Sensitive,” he grunted unnecessarily, his voice filled with primal satisfaction. He barely lifted his mouth from its delicious task to utter that guttural observation before dipping back down to where the creamy, berry-tipped treats awaited him. He had one strong, large hand braced firmly against the small of her narrow back. His other hand was working at the snap of her jeans, and before she knew it, he’d deftly pushed the stiff denim far enough down past her narrow hips to allow his eager fingers room to delve between her slender thighs, where they cupped the dripping-wet band of satiny material at her core.

Bronwyn ground herself up against his hand while Bryce, a consummate multitasker, still had his mouth on her overwhelmingly sensitive breasts. His fingers were burrowing beneath the line of her panties, and one very talented digit immediately found its way to the little knot of nerve endings at the junction of her thighs. He strummed her delicately for a few seconds, and Bronwyn convulsed violently, a strangled cry of crippling pleasure tearing from her throat. Recognizing that she was on the verge, Bryce replaced the finger with his long thumb and found the tight, wet entrance to her body, which he breeched with a gentle, yet assertive, thrust.

The combination of his thumb on her clitoris, his long finger lodged firmly inside of her, and his mouth tugging insistently at an aching nipple sent Bronwyn tumbling over the edge of insanity, and the scream ratcheted even higher as her back arched even more while her hips thrust frantically at his hand.

Her hands were digging into his broad shoulders, and Bryce stared down into her face, drinking in the sight of her prolonged orgasm like a man dying of thirst. After what seemed like an eternity, Bronwyn stopped convulsing against him and her cry faded into breathless little sobs as she melted against him. He gently allowed her limp body to slide down onto the sofa, where she lay staring up at him with wet eyes and a look of utter, shocked devastation on her face. He smiled tenderly, dropping a kiss onto her gasping lips before tugging her jeans and skimpy pink bikini briefs down her languid, unresponsive legs. He made a frustrated noise when the clothing snagged at her ankles but managed to prevail before tossing them aside triumphantly.

“Love me, sweetheart?” he asked roughly, and she smiled contentedly up into his sweaty face.

“More than you can possibly imagine,” she mouthed, and he grinned happily.

“Good. I’m going to make love with you now,” he proclaimed intently, and she swallowed a giggle at the solemn announcement. He looked so serious.

“Well then, stop talking about it and get on with it,” she said, still fighting for her breath after her massive climax. He growled at the challenge and tugged a condom from the back pocket of his jeans before impatiently shoving them down to his knees and dropping down between her spread thighs. Bronwyn, who was starting to feel halfway normal after the emotional and physical wreckage of her overwhelming orgasm, stared up at him when his face appeared in her line of vision. The ruddy color along his stark cheekbones had intensified, his eyes looked feverish and desperate, and his hair fell down to frame his face in a wild mane. She had never seen him look more intense and focused. She raised her heavy head and looked down to where he was poised like a battering ram between her legs. She could see the head of his shaft above her feminine mound, and she felt the rest of the hard column sawing up against her cleft. An instant later and her head fell back with a moan when the intense sensations surged to life again.

The friction was driving her crazy, and she could see by the way his face tightened that it had a similar effect on the gorgeous man braced above her. Her hands moved up to his face, where she traced his lips, then his cheekbones, with wondering fingers, and he groaned helplessly. She watched as he leaned back and fumbled while putting the condom on.

“Sweetheart,” he growled after he had taken care of their protection. His eyes were boring into hers intensely. “I want you to reach down between your legs and take me in your hand.” She was happy to obey him, reaching down and grabbing hold of him in one of her eager hands. Her fingers could barely close around his girth.

“Put it inside,” he commanded roughly, and she inhaled a shuddering breath before obediently positioning him. She moved her hips a little and hissed when the broad head slipped inside. His brow was furrowed in concentration and his eyes closed in ecstasy as he very carefully inched even farther ahead. Bronwyn groaned at the achingly familiar feel of him.

“God, this is amazing,” he groaned as he sheathed himself even farther. His eyes shut involuntarily. He hissed painfully when she thrust up against him. “No, babe. Please don’t move. I can barely keep it together, Bron. If you move . . .” He gulped in a breath and released it slowly before moving a little farther. Bronwyn, loving the incredible feeling of fullness, helplessly contracted around him, and he breathed a little prayer as he paused again.

“So long,” he moaned, almost incoherently. “It’s been so long but I want this to last.” She moved her hands up to his face and angled his head until he opened his eyes to look at her.

“It’s okay,” she said as clearly as she could. “It doesn’t have to be slow this time.” He kissed her with hungry gratitude before boldly surging forward. Bronwyn raised her knees to his hips as she pushed herself up to meet his thrusts. One of his hands slid down over her naked thigh to hook beneath her knee and raise her leg a little higher. The slight change in angle had him hitting her spot with every urgent thrust and it drove her wild. She was beyond thinking about anything but this moment, this man, and his masterful ability to turn her into a ruined, incoherent mess in mere moments.

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