Marrying Mr. English:The English Brothers #7(18)

       
           



       

Fighting the overwhelming urge to cover herself, Eleanora blinked her  gaze away from him and closed her eyes as Tom's hands landed on her bare  waist. As he raised them upward, he leaned forward, and his lips  brushed against hers as the blond hair on his chest grazed her nipples.  They tightened as though on command, puckering for him, straining  shamelessly closer to the source of their pleasure. His hands bracketed  her breasts as he deepened their kiss, running his tongue along the seam  of her lips, which she opened willingly, welcoming his tongue to meet  and mate with hers as his hands shifted, gently covering her naked  breasts.

She moaned into his mouth, arching her back to thrust her breasts more  fully against his hands, and he massaged them tenderly, circling his  thumb around her erect nipple.

"Tom," she murmured as the sharp sensations started stealing her breath away.

Tom seized the moment as a chance to slide his lips down her throat to  her chest, then lower, capturing one pert bud between his lips as his  fingers teased its twin into a tight point. His other hand slid to the  zipper at the back of her skirt and tugged it down so that her skirt  slipped over her slim hips and pooled at her ankles, the cool air of his  apartment touching her legs at the same time his teeth grazed her  nipple.

She whimpered, reaching for his head and pulling it up to kiss her  again, her hands skating between them as she searched for his belt  buckle. Tom tilted his head, sealing his lips completely over hers,  kissing her hungrily as she unfastened his belt, unbuttoned and quickly  unzipped his pants.

He reached down and pushed them over his hips, then stepped out of them,  reaching for Eleanora. Cupping her ass, he lifted her into his arms,  and she kissed him madly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her  legs around his waist, her panties and stockings a frustrating barrier  between his skin and hers.

Walking purposefully through his apartment, as though she weighed  nothing, Tom carried her away from their first Christmas tree, through  the living room, down the back hallway, passing the guest bedroom and  striding into his own. He didn't stop until he'd laid her down on the  bed and covered her body with his, planting his elbows on either side of  her head as he finished kissing her.

***

Finally, he drew back, cradling her face in his palms and looking down  at her. The light was dim, but he could easily make out her features  from the light streaming in through the hallway and from the windows,  which had a direct view of Independence Mall.

Her eyes searched his.

"What?" she asked.

"Do you still want to go fast?"

Her lips tilted up, into a grin. "This feels nice, whatever speed it is."

His cock, which throbbed behind his boxers, didn't agree. It wanted  fast. It wanted now. But it was Tom's heart-the very heart that insisted  upon making love in lieu of fucking-that kept him from taking her right  this minute. He wanted these moments with her to last. He wanted their  first time together to be memorable, to be . . . good.

"I care . . .," he started, then flinched at the word care. Wasn't there  a better word? Something that came after like but before love? And if  there was, what was it? How could he define the immensity of what he  felt for her-his sweet, bright Eleanora, his sunshine, his wife. "I care  about you very much."

Her smile widened just a touch because his stupid, half-assed,  inaccurate declaration pleased her. "I know. I care about you, too."

"I didn't expect . . ." He cleared his throat, stroking her golden hair. "I didn't expect to fall for you so fast."

"Me neither."

"You're so young," he breathed, staring down at her loveliness. It made  his chest tighten and his heart throb even worse than his cock. "I want  to make you happy."

"Tom," she said, adjusting beneath him to cradle his erection in the  soft valley between her thighs, "I've never been this happy in my life.  Not in my whole life. When you blew out your candles tonight, you said  your wish had already come true. Mine too. Being with you is a dream  come true."

Her voice was thready and emotional as she finished her short speech,  and Tom leaned down to nuzzle her nose gently, brushing his lips  tenderly against hers and pushing his hips experimentally into hers.

She surged against him eagerly, meeting his shallow thrust and skimming  her hands down the sides of her body to the waistband of her panty hose.

"Help me."

Tom shimmied backward, kneeling on either side of her thighs and gazing  down at her as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her panties.

"You sure?"

She arched an eyebrow in challenge. "Are you?"                       
       
           



       

His lips twitched under his mustache because he loved the way she could  be nervous one moment, tender the next, and sassy as hell the moment  after that.

He peeled the second skins away from her hips, which revealed a lightly  swelled stomach that he ached to kiss . . . her pelvis and the tight  thatch of light curls that made his balls fist . . . her thighs, which  were toned and white in the moonlight . . . her gorgeous legs, ankles,  and feet. And finally his wife was naked on his bed, beneath him, where  he'd wanted her since the very first moment he laid eyes on her.

"You're breathtaking," he said.

"And a little chilly," she added, grinning at him.

He pulled his boxers quickly down his legs and threw them on the floor,  then lowered his body to hers, skin to skin, his hard angles against her  softness, his eager sex probing the damp, hidden depths of hers. As his  cock slid over her clit, she whimpered softly, arching her back and  burying her head back against his pillow.

"Tom," she moaned. "I want more."

He panted lightly, heat pooling below his stomach, stretching and  swelling his already-straining erection. "Are you . . . baby, are you on  the, um, the pill?"

"I, um," she sighed, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. "No."

"No?"

"No, I . . . I can't afford a prescription every month. Especially since . . ."

"Since?"

"I mean, I'm not like my cousin, Tom. I wasn't dating anyone seriously in Colorado. I didn't need monthly birth control."

As much as it pleased Tom to know that Eleanora hadn't been with anyone in a while, he also wasn't eager to get her pregnant.

"I don't have anything here," he said, rubbing against her, his body  demanding more even though common sense was telling him to put on the  brakes.

"You could, um, pull out," she said, cringing and quickly reaching up to  cover her face with her hands, which was so adorable, he started  chuckling lightly.

"Are you covering your face?"

"It's embarrassing," she said, her voice muffled under her arm.

"Baby, I hate to break it to you, but we're both buck naked in my bed,  about to have sex. You don't have anything to be embarrassed about." She  didn't move her arms from over her eyes, so he leaned down and peppered  her arms with kisses until she did. Even in the moonlight, he could  tell her cheeks were flushed and rosy.

"Not to mention," he said, grinning at her, though his voice was  suddenly husky, "we're married. You're my wife. You don't have to be  embarrassed about anything with me." He paused. "I can pull out."

"You don't mind?"

Hell, yes! I wanted to feel every inch of you.

"You're going on the pill tomorrow," he answered gruffly, reaching down  between them to guide his cock into the valley of her clit. He glided  against her, and she moaned.

"T-tomorrow's Christmas."

"The day after, then. As soon as possible."

"You're . . . bossy," she sighed, her body moving in rhythm with his,  meeting his shallow thrusts, her breathing quick and ragged.

"You're delectable."

"I'm ready," she said, opening her eyes slowly. There was only a thin  band of blue around her enormous black irises. She licked her lips and  widened her legs. "I want you, Tom."

It was all the permission he needed to pull back, readjust, then thrust  forward slowly. The opening of her sex was hot and slick, and he held  his breath, savoring the feel of her sucking him forward.

"Is this okay?" he asked in a strangled voice.

Her hands landed on his ass, and suddenly she surged up, her back arching, her fingers pushing him forward. "More."

He groaned, sliding forward into her completely, the walls of her sex  pulsing and trembling around his erection, which swelled impossibly  within her, throbbing with the immensity of his desire, with the sheer  pleasure of being joined with her. The downside, however, to this much  lust: one more thrust and he'd come.