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Waking Up Married(51)

By:Mira Lyn Kelly


“Please.”

“...with my body...”

And then he was guiding her to the bed, his broad chest meeting     hers in one teasing kiss of flesh before he held himself above her. His mouth     blazed a trail of heat and need from her neck down to her breast.

“So beautiful, Megan,” he murmured, his lips brushing back and     forth over the straining bud of her nipple before circling it with the firm     point of his tongue and then licking, slowly, lower.

Over her ribs.

Around the small well of her navel.

Across the slight jut of her hip bone.

And then along the scalloped edge of her panties.

All the while she watched, held rapt by the vision of this     gorgeous man indulging in his free rein over her body.

His hands coasted over her hips, knees, calves, touching her     reverently as though in truth he meant to cover every inch of skin. Fingers     sliding around her ankles and then back up, it wasn’t until he’d reached her     knees she realized the strategic shift of his arms from the outside of her legs     to the inside, and even as she watched, he was coaxing her knees farther apart,     opening her to him as he dropped kisses down the lacy V at the center of her     panties, teasing her through the fabric with the warm wash of his breath...the     press of his kiss.

“Oh, God, Connor,” she moaned at the firm stroke of his tongue     over the silky panel covering her.

Running his lips back and forth across the damp of her panties,     he groaned. “I love it when you say my name right.”

She gave in to a breathless laugh at his words, but then lost     hold of the thought at the next wet stroke of his tongue.

A needy ache was building low in her belly, a tension without     limit.

Fingers moving into the strands of his hair, she tried to urge     him upward. “I want—”

Catching her wrists, he guided them back to their previous     position above her. Holding her there for a beat that said stay more clearly than the voiced word itself.

Connor’s fingers curled around her panties to peel them from     her hips and slip them off her legs. His eyes, dark with hunger and glinting     with determination, were mesmerizing as they met hers.

“I’m going to kiss you like this, sweetheart...the way I’ve     wanted to from the start. Long and slow and deep...” he said, the sensual threat     of his wicked half smile doing things even his touch hadn’t accomplished.

Then, with a look so devilish she shivered, he added, “And     French.”

“Connor!” she gasped at the first wet velvet rub of his tongue.     But the only reply was another hot lick. Her hands flew to his hair, his     shoulders, the bed beside her hips, grasping and desperate beneath the most     exquisite openmouthed kiss she’d ever experienced.

It was thorough. Spectacular. Her body was on fire around the     slow thrusts, the curling licks and languorous strokes of his tongue. Then he     was touching her at the same time. Circling his thumb at her opening and then     slowly, firmly pressing inside as his kiss concentrated on the throbbing center     of her need.

“Oh, God!” she cried out at the feel of him both inside her     body and out.

It had been so long since she’d had a man’s attention this way,     but never had it been like this.

Need coiled low in her belly, each deliberate thrust of     Connor’s thumb intensifying the sensation until her hips were rising to meet     him. Her pleasure cresting.

Her breath broke into ragged pants.

She was almost there. Sinking her teeth into the swell of her     bottom lip to keep from screaming, Megan gripped the bedspread beneath her.

“Let go, Megan. I want to hear you.” Another deliberate lick     through the center of her, this one spiraling around that point of need so     primed she didn’t know if she could bear the exquisite pleasure the contact     brought her.

Cries of need and desperation ripped past her lips, echoed     around the walls of the room and rained down over them. Letting go with Connor     like this was too good, too intense. So much more than she’d known was     possible.

The pressure building within her touched every cell in her     body, rubbed against the confines of her form and pushed steadily at the places     she never expected it to reach. Places she thought far deeper, more tender and     too forbidden for any man to find. Places she hadn’t even known existed     herself.