AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He didn’t need reminding. Her independence, determination, and courage were some of the traits he admired about her. He issued a harsh curse. “You drive me to the edge, Chastity.”
Her chest rose and fell in the periphery of his vision. “I do not intend to.”
“No. But you do.”
“You…” She released a long, audible breath. “You do something to me too.”
Goddamn it.
He answered by gripping her face in his hands and pulling her up to meet him, his mouth covering hers, hot and desperate.
Her breath hitched and she kissed him back just as ferociously, pressing herself hard against him, wrapping her arms about him and gripping his hair. She smelled of soap and fresh air. She tasted like temptation, like everything he’d been missing in his life.
He moved his hands from her face, burying one in her soft hair at the base of her skull, lightly pulling, the other gripping her waist, then lowering it to her buttocks, frantically clawing her closer to him.
So damn soft. So perfect. She fitted against him like a key in a lock.
Their heavy breathing mingled in an erotic symphony of sound, filling his ears, heart, and memory. He heaved her upwards, so she was on her tiptoes, and pressed his hips against her so she could have no doubt about where they were going with this. He’d likely passed the point of no return the moment he’d shut the door but he could not give a fig. All that existed was Chastity and this need burning his soul to the ground.
She moaned—the sound carnal and needy.
That was all he needed to hear. He lifted her off the ground and carried her to the bed, where he pinned her to the mattress. He kissed her greedily, not finding the comfort he needed in her kisses. Each time her tongue swept his, the hunger increased. He needed more of her.
Chastity yanked at his clothing, almost tearing off his waistcoat and cambric shirt. He heard a seam rip for certain. When he rose from the bed, the cool air of the room whispered over his bare chest. Her gaze travelled over him when he stood to kick off his shoes and peel down his trousers. His cock ached agonizingly at her perusal.
She shifted to the edge of the bed, stood and twisted. “My dress,” she panted. “Take it off.”
Valentine did not need telling twice. He fumbled his way through removing everything until she was bare to him. He took only a minute to admire the curves of her rear, the soft indent of her back.
A feral growl rumbled from his chest and she shivered, then turned to him. If he thought her arse inviting, the front view would send a man to his knees. It was a minor miracle he managed to snatch her to him and not fall to the floor and beg for mercy.
She fell back onto the bed, her hair falling from its tight updo and spreading about the cream pillows. Her nipples were tight and oh so tempting. One night might not be enough, he feared. There was too much he wanted to do to her. Blame his celibacy if he needed to, but Chastity needed loving for more than one night.
She gripped his arms, her short nails digging into his arms. He felt the roughness of her fingertips that allowed him to practically forget her lineage. Here was a woman so determined to help her family that she would work her fingers until they were hard and callused.
“Please, Valentine.”
Dear God. He touched a breast, a hip, the indent of her waist while he kissed her so ferociously he imagined he would leave her soft skin red and chafed. But he couldn’t slow. He trailed his lips from her mouth to her jaw, her neck, then one of her nipples, which hardened at his touch. He swirled his tongue around it, and she gripped his hair.
When his fingers reached the wet spot between her legs, she lifted her hips and issued a muffled sound. He didn’t waste any time going slowly as he worked his fingers inside her, making sure she was well lubricated. Much longer and his claims of her driving him mad would be true.
When he penetrated her, her nails dug into his shoulders and she released a gentle cry in his ears. He shuddered and closed his eyes, savoring the tight heat clamping about him. It might be the length of his celibacy talking, but he couldn’t recall ever feeling like this before. Being joined with her stole his every thought. He could think of nothing but making love to her.
“Valentine.” The word was a plea—a shaky, vulnerable plea.
It made his heart clench. “I know,” he assured her.
He wrapped her up in one arm, holding her tight while he braced himself with the other and pulsed his hips, pounding hard into her. She didn’t hold back. She gasped and moaned his name.
The bed creaked, the headboard thudding against the wall and making the embroidery above clatter on its hook. Her cries increased, drowning out all other sounds, while she scraped her nails across his back then down to grip his rear. He held her as close as he could, as though he could somehow join their hearts and not just their bodies. She tightened about him, and he opened his eyes to watch her reach her peak, her head tilted back, her eyes clenched tightly shut while her pleasure vibrated through her.
Valentine grunted, panting into her ear, pounding into her one last time before he came inside her, tremors ripping through his shoulders.
She opened her eyes slowly and met his gaze. Gone was the confidence and the determination. He saw only vulnerability. Their chests hammered against each other’s.
Valentine swallowed hard. His carefully constructed world had just cracked wide open.
