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.

erection. Every time she moved out of the reach of his mouth her crotch rubbed the

leaned down to kiss him on the mouth, still holding his

a simple flick he could be free from her

kissed her back, succumbing to the

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

mouth working around it, her hands cupping his balls while her tongue darted out to

were clumsy, a sign of her inexperience, but this only added to the eroticism

all for

flickered onto the base

shot through him, a groan escaping

clenched his teeth even

a moment he’d been certain he was

asked, stopping what she was doing to look at him,

her into another kiss. In a tangle of arms and legs they collapsed together, Alessandra beneath him, devouring each

and legs to pull them down. When they reached

her, burrowed in

first time they’d made love he’d been blown away with how deeply he’d felt