All Riled Up: Trapped! / Riley. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.
she’d lain awake and prayed that someday he’d say those three special words to her. Now that he finally had, her heart wanted to burst.
In a butterfly caress, he kissed her shoulder—and nudged her thighs wider apart so he could settle between them. “Shh,” he rumbled lowly, sounding indulgent. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
“I don’t—”
He pushed into her.
“—care!” Rosie clenched down hard as his cock slid deep inside her. It burned a little as he filled her, and felt so good she lost her breath again. “Oh, my—Ethan. Ethan.”
He actually laughed. But the laugh trailed off into a groan. He kept his hips flexed, straining against her, maintaining the pressure, pushing deeper and deeper. “Relax for me, honey.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I want you to take all of me.”
All of him? Rosie bit his shoulder, trying to silence her roar of pleasure as he rocked against her, slowly giving her more, then more still. Without thinking about it, she lifted her legs and locked them around his waist—and he sank in another inch.
Just when she thought it would be too much, he stopped and rested against her. “Rosie?”
She swallowed, shivered and finally choked an indistinct, “Mmm?”
“You were a virgin?”
There was only one answer she could give. “I’ve never wanted anyone but you.”
Ethan didn’t tease her, didn’t crow about his conquest, he simply gathered her closer against him, kissed her mouth in a long, slow, deep kiss—and began moving.
The friction proved beyond incredible. Ethan kept kissing her. Long, lazy, consuming kisses. Hot, frantic kisses. He started to move faster and his breathing deepened, his muscles tightened.
Suddenly he levered himself up on stiffened arms. His thrusts were hard, slow, deep. Rosie stared at him, enthralled by the sight of his corded neck, the bunched muscles in his shoulders and biceps. His narrowed eyes were golden brown, bright, fevered. His jaw clenched.
And then she knew he was coming. She watched him through a haze. Their labored breaths mingled and she moaned with him, so excited to see him like this.
Moments later Ethan dropped sluggishly onto her, his face in her neck. Her legs went slack and slipped to the mattress. He was still inside her. It wasn’t easy, but Rosie managed to lift one hand to stroke the nape of his neck down to his sweaty shoulder. “I love you, too, Ethan.”
He gave an incoherent reply and tightened his arms.
Smiling, happier than she ever thought possible, Rosie asked, “When can we get married?”
He stopped breathing.
One second he was sucking air, sounding like a marathon runner, the next he was perfectly still. She barely felt his heartbeat—until it started drumming madly against her breast.
He raised his head, eyes agog. “Married?”
He appeared so horrified by the idea that Rosie considered slugging him. “Don’t say it like a dirty word, Ethan.”
“Well, no, but...marriage?”
Oh, she didn’t feel like crying now. She was spitting mad and very determined. “I’m marrying you, Ethan Winters, so you might as well get used to it right now. And, by God, we’ll live in my house and plant flowers in the summer and get a damn dog and eventually have some kids and—”
The shock cleared from his face and he started to laugh. Rosie shoved at him, but he didn’t seem inclined to stop. “You think me being a mother is funny?” she demanded.
“No,” he gasped around his chuckles. “No, I swear.”
“Buffoon! Get off of me.”
Instead he dropped his whole weight on her and got his chuckles under control. He wore a tender smile and his eyes were twinkling when he said, “Rosie.”
“Don’t you ‘Rosie’ me!”
He kissed her, but it was a funny kiss because she was fighting him and he was snickering again.
“I love you,” he reminded her when she tried to twist his arm behind his back. “Ow, ouch. Rosie, I love you! Now stop that.”
Mulish, a little hurt, she let him go but glared at him.
He still looked entirely too close to hilarity. “Honey, I love you.” He touched her mouth, teasing. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”
He sounded sincere, she had to admit. “I’ve always known I loved you, Ethan.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve only had it figured out for a few hours, so how about just giving me some time?” He cupped her face, kissed her again, a tickling teasing kiss.
“And time will make you realize that we need to be married?”
He tried to sound somber when he said, “I’d consider myself a shallow ass if it didn’t.”
Relief washed over her and she found her own smile. “All right.”
With one last kiss, Ethan moved away from her. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.” Naked, gorgeous and far too sexy, he went out into the hall and then she heard water running in the bathroom.
Ethan loved her. The rest would come. It had to.
* * *
ETHAN TOOK HIS TIME removing the condom, finding a washcloth, soaking it with warm water. Marriage. Damn, but Rosie only knew one speed—Mach.
She’d left him in the dust that time for sure. He’d been doing his best to reconcile the fact that he loved her, that she’d been a virgin, that she was a regular wildcat in bed—and bam! She’d planned out their whole lives, complete with a dog and kids.
But now that she’d brought it up, the idea appealed to him. He did love her, no doubt about that one. Once he’d admitted it to himself, the feeling had expanded and grown and all but consumed him. He couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to realize what was firmly rooted in his heart. The strength of what he felt for her was even a little scary.
Ethan knew he couldn’t bear the idea of any other man touching her. So far, no other man had. If he played his cards right, no other man would. She was his in every sense of the word—and by God, he’d keep her. If that meant marriage, then so what? It wouldn’t make him care more for her, but if she needed that, then he’d give it to her.
A quiet little ceremony, with only two witnesses...yeah, he could do that. He wouldn’t like it, and he assumed some pretty ugly memories would plague him. But Rosie was worth any emotional discomfort.
He took a steadying breath, wrung out the washcloth, and headed back to the bedroom.
She hadn’t bothered to cover herself.
Ethan almost tripped over his own feet. He’d always known Rosie was pretty, and that she was built nice. But naked, stretched out on a bed, she was about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
Her head turned toward him when he stopped in the open doorway. Her hair was tumbled around her face, her body still flushed in selective places—such as her breasts, her belly, her silky thighs.
Damn, he was getting hard again.
Ethan cleared his throat and sat beside her on the mattress. “I’m going to clean you up.”
Now she moved, darting under the covers so fast she was a blur. “You most definitely are not.”
Ethan grinned. “Wanna bet?”
“Don’t even think—”
He had the covers completely off the bed in a flash, which left Rosie squawking and ready to tussle. He obliged. Wrestling with Rosie wasn’t at