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The American Heir(15)

By:Gina Robinson


"Not that I know of." His voice was deep and hoarse with desire.

"There's a first time for everything." I couldn't keep my own want out of my voice.

"I guess there is." He was still staring as he took a step toward me.

I held my ground, smiling as he walked toward me, daring him to keep   advancing. And he did. Until he was standing inches from me, toe to toe.   Eye to eye. Our lips a hairsbreadth apart. So close I could feel his   heat and excitement. Smell his cologne. Feel his breath mingle with   mine.

His eyes were dark and dilated. As much as I told myself to breathe, my   breaths were shallow. My heartbeat pulsed in my ears. I'd never been   this excited. He was coming back to me.

As I held his gaze, he slid his fingers between my breasts, which   spilled over the jewel-trimmed edges of the bra. The bra was totally   impractical on so many levels. Including the swirled jeweled   embellishments that spread like small wings from the tops of each cup.   





 

He grinned wickedly as he casually slid a finger between my breast and   the weight of the jeweled bra. "This is some fine craftsmanship."

If I'd been bolder, or thought faster, I would have asked him if he   meant the bra. Or me. But I was too addled by his nearness to think   clearly. As in awe of him as the first time I'd seen him. Nearly as   tongue-tied as the first time he'd come to the bakery. But more   desperate now than even then. I felt our relationship hanging on our   next moves. If he advanced, if he still wanted me, I had a chance at   getting him back and keeping him.

For my part, I had to offer at least some resistance. I couldn't be too   eager. He had to pay some kind of penance for doubting me. Not because I   needed it. But he expected it. I wanted him to respect me, for now and   ever.

Before I could respond, he bent his head and kissed the tops of my   breasts, cupping them and lifting them to his lips. At first he kissed   them slowly so I felt the full heat of his lips. "Very fine   workmanship."

He squeezed them more tightly through their jeweled encasement and   pressed up against me more firmly, nudging my closed legs open with his   knee. Coaxing me to open up to him. Wedging himself in.

If he realized how open my heart was to him, he'd have complete power over me. I was his, through and through. Forever.

With pregnancy, my breasts had become firm, heavy, large, sore. And   extremely sensitive in a powerful, sexual way that hadn't been tested   yet by his touch. Rubbing against my clothes could get them to bud up   and fill me with longing.

When he pulled one breast free from its jeweled armor, I sighed, filled   with a powerful surge of desire. I went wet for him almost instantly.

I took his head gently in my hands and guided his mouth to my freed   nipple, which was dark and erect and ready for him. At the first circle   of his tongue over my nipple, I gasped and spread my legs, pulling his   crotch into mine and rubbing against him wantonly. He took my nipple in   his mouth and grazed it lightly with his teeth. Circled it with his   tongue. I fought the rising tide within me. If I had ever doubted a   woman could climax simply from having her breasts stimulated, I banished   it now.

I was as hungry and eager as a sex-starved young man, trying to fight   off a premature climax in just the same way. I wanted to wait for   Riggins and feel him inside me. I needed the intimacy of a union  . I   need a reunion   with him.

He freed my second breast. Rolled the nipple gently between his fingers, teasing it, murmuring praises and wonder.

I arched my back, thrusting my breasts out to him, playing with his   hair, moaning softly as he brought me to the edge of orgasm as he sucked   my breast.

"Riggins," I whispered, reaching for the hem of his shirt. "Take your shirt off. I want to feel your skin against mine."

He leaned back just enough to pull it off over his head and toss it away.

We stared at each other.

"What are you waiting for?" I studied him, tracing every line of his   handsome face. I loved him too much. I wanted him too badly. "Just do it   before I come without you."

"You're not ready," he whispered back. "You can't be ready yet."

I guided his hand beneath my thong. "Can't I?"

"Damn, you're wet and-"

"As erect as you are?" I reached for his fly, unzipped his pants, and pulled his erection out. He was ready for me, too.

And neither of us were going to hang on too much longer.

He gasped as I stroked him hard and positioned his tip around my thong panty at my opening.

"I've never made love to a woman wearing jeweled lingerie," he whispered   as he paused and gazed into my eyes. "And certainly not to a pregnant   woman in a fantasy bra and panties."

I cupped his face. "By a happy coincidence, I've never made love wearing a diamond bra and thong. Take me all the way, duke."

He grabbed my hips, digging his fingers in to hold me in place, and   thrust inside me. I wrapped my legs around him and rocked with him.

We were wild and incautious, caught up in the act and oblivious to our   surroundings. As we rocked into each other, the dresser banged against   the wall with the beat of our lovemaking.

"Miss me?" He grazed my ear with his teeth.   





 

"Terribly." I pressed against him, holding him to me as the jewels of my lingerie dug into his naked chest.

"How much?" He ran his tongue around the inside of my ear until I shivered.

"Horribly. Desperately." I dug my heels into him. "Stop talking and finish the job." I covered his mouth with a kiss.

He pounded into me again with such force I was afraid the mirror   attached to the dresser would shatter as it thumped the wall. I released   him from the kiss and closed my eyes. I would have cared more about  the  mirror and the safety of the antique dresser if I hadn't been  senseless  with need and filled with only him.

Another thrust and my scream filled the room. An orgasm rocked through   me to my soul. There was only one man for me. I knew with certainty I'd   never feel this heat with anyone else.

I trembled with the force of him, listening to his echoing grunt of   completion. I came with enough power to force a surprised scream of   pleasure from my lips. I honestly didn't know how he could still be   standing. I was limp and weak, held up by the dresser and him.

Legs wrapped around him, I leaned my forehead against his, eyes closed,   and traced his sweaty chest gently with tips of my fingers, enjoying  the  feel of him.

Finally, I opened my eyes and kissed his shoulder. He had the indentation of hundreds of jewels on his chest.

"I've branded you with my underwear!" I traced one of the indentations and gave him a wry, apologetic grin.

He glanced at his chest and grinned back. "It's only temporary. And my   own fault for holding you so close and buying you that lingerie in the   first place. That was … " He took a deep breath. "The most awesome sex   I've ever had."

I smiled and pressed my forehead to his again, feeling almost shy. "Me   too. But then, I don't have a long yardstick to measure it by."

He laughed and kissed me lightly on the nose. "I do."

"I don't know whether that's reassuring or not."

"Let's put it this way. I was so lost in the moment, I didn't feel your   jewels digging into me. Or if I did, I enjoyed it." He swept me into  his  arms, holding me tight against his chest, and carried me to the  bed.

Which was a good thing, because I really didn't think I could walk.

He perched on one elbow, looking down at me. "You're so damn beautiful, duchess."

My heart raced as I waited for him to say the words I'd been longing to hear. But they didn't come.

Why did he have to be the man of my dreams-handsome, smart, funny? I   almost said I love you to him right then. It was on the tip of my   tongue. I held back. The time wasn't right.





Chapter 8





Haley

Maybe sex can't heal everything, but our reunion   on the Edwardian   dresser at least thawed the chill between us, if not the distrust. No   more separate bedrooms. At least not this night. We slept tangled in   each other's arms.

I got up early, leaving Riggins sleeping soundly in my bed while I   showered and dressed. I loved the look of him soft and relaxed in sleep   with his hair tousled and his long limbs sprawled. I was half hoping  I'd  find him still sleeping. But he was awake and reading his tablet in  bed  when I stepped out of the bathroom.

He looked up and smiled at me. My fantasy bra and panties sat on my pillow next to him like crown jewels on a display pillow.

"Have you seen this?" He turned his tablet toward me. "All the pictures   we posed for, and this is the one they chose to lead the story with."  He  sounded more amused than anything.