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.

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

kiss him on the mouth, still holding

flick he could be free from

kissed her back, succumbing to the delights she wanted

wrists and slowly made her descent. No part of his chest was left unkissed or unstroked, his skin

ignored his erection, her mouth working around

sign of her inexperience, but this only added

was all

the

shot through him, a groan escaping

teeth even tighter, finding a

certain he

stopping what she was doing to look

her into another kiss. In a tangle of arms and legs they collapsed together,

using his thighs and legs to pull them down. When they reached her ankles she kicked them off then wrapped her legs around him, raising her bottom so her heat rubbed

was inside her, burrowed

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