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.

positioning herself on his erection. Every time she moved out of the reach of his

leaned down to kiss him on the mouth,

he could be free from her

to the delights she wanted to bestow on

pressed along his jaw then she released her hold on his wrists and slowly made her descent. No part of his chest was left unkissed or unstroked, his skin alive under the

completely ignored his erection, her mouth working around it,

of her inexperience, but this

all for

the base of his

powerful bolt shot through him, a groan escaping

his teeth

been certain he was going to

wrong?’ she asked, stopping what she was doing to

wouldn’t form. He shook his head and sat up, leaning forward to clasp her cheeks and pull her into another kiss. In a tangle of arms and legs they collapsed together, Alessandra

down. When they reached her ankles she kicked them off then wrapped her legs around him,

then he was inside her, burrowed in her tight heat,

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