The Greek's Pregnant Bride

Checking himself, he gritted his teeth before gripping hold of her remaining stocking and slowly sliding it off.

Now she was naked save for her lacy knickers. He took a moment to stare at her, taking every inch of her in.

She was perfect.

She was his.

The look on her face was something to be savoured, a knowing yet shy quirk of the lips.

She levered herself up until she knelt before him, face to face.

‘My turn,’ she whispered, her eyes sparkling.

For such a slight woman she had a hidden strength, able, with a push of her hand, to shove him onto his back.

She laughed softly, taking hold of his wrists and pulling them up and over his head.

This had to count as the single most erotic moment of his life: Alessa straddling him, pinning him down, her swollen breasts brushing against his face. Every time he made to capture one in his mouth, she would move just out of reach.

as was the way she straddled him, positioning herself on his erection. Every time she moved out of the reach of his mouth her crotch rubbed the length of his erection, the material of her

him on the

flick he could be

succumbing to the delights

along his jaw then she released her hold on his wrists and slowly made her descent. No part

erection, her mouth working around it, her hands cupping his balls while her tongue

were clumsy, a sign of her inexperience, but this only

all

tongue flickered onto the base of

through him, a groan

the bed sheets in his fists and clenched his teeth even tighter,

moment he’d been certain he

doing to look at

another kiss. In a

down her hips, using his thighs and legs to pull them down. When they reached her ankles she kicked them off

was inside her, burrowed in her tight heat, the relief

love he’d been blown away with how deeply he’d felt everything, every