Fortune's Mergers. Bronwyn JamesonЧитать онлайн книгу.
her skin.
This is torture, was all she could think. The most unbelievable pleasure-evoking, mind-numbing torture she’d ever experienced in her life and she wanted more. She felt the tip of his finger slide inside and tensed against the pressure.
“Relax,” he soothed.
His voice became both balm and sorcerer, calming her fears, even as it fanned the flames higher. Her breath grew labored, her womb throbbed for release.
As if sensing her increasing need, he cupped a hand behind her knee and drew her leg over his. “I won’t hurt you,” he said again, shifting his hips against hers.
Closing her eyes against the heat that threatened to consume her, she nodded.
She felt the nudge of his sex at her opening, and her breath snagged in her lungs.
“Breathe,” he urged against her lips. “Just breathe. Let yourself go.”
The pressure of his hips against hers increased as he pushed slowly inside. Gasping, desperate to escape this ache that thrummed so deeply inside her, she arched, and he slid a little deeper. One of his hands fanned her buttocks, holding her against him, the other cupped her face. She could feel his breath against her lips, hear the huskiness in his voice, as he murmured words of encouragement.
He inched deeper and met resistance.
“Trust me, baby,” he whispered as he clasped her buttocks between his hands. Holding her in place, he pushed his hips forward. She gasped, as pain, red hot and searing, shot through her. A split second later it was gone, giving way to the most incredible flood of sensations.
This is what it means to become one, she thought in wonder, as she struggled to absorb what was happening to her. The most intimate of joinings. Awed by the experience, she opened her eyes, needing to create a visual connection with Case, as well as the physical one they shared, and found him watching her. His face was taut with restraint, his eyes dark with passion. A fine sheen of perspiration beaded his upper lip and his chest. She knew without asking what his self-control was costing him.
Her heart melted at the sacrifice he was willing to make for her, the gentleness with which he had handled her. Looping her arms around his neck, she drew his mouth to hers. “Don’t hold back,” she whispered against his lips. “Give me everything.”
With a groan, he rolled her to her back and surged deeper, his hips pumping against hers in a rhythmic dance Gina found easy to follow. Pressure slowly built inside her, squeezing the breath from her lungs, closing her throat. She felt Case tense, his body going as rigid as steel, the tremble in the legs clamped against hers, the quiver of arms he’d braced at either side of her face.
Eyes now open wide in wonder, she watched the passion build on his face, felt the shudder of release that shook him from head to toe, heard the low growl he emitted and absorbed the sound as he lowered his mouth to hers.
Like a sail that had lost its wind, he sank slowly down over her, with a sigh, and buried his face in the curve of her neck.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
Touched by his concern, it took her a moment to find her voice.
“Yes,” she whispered, then wrapped her arms around him and held him close, knowing how inadequate the word was, how incredibly short it fell of describing her true feelings.
With their hearts beating in rhythm, she closed her eyes and slept.
Gina decided she much preferred being awakened by a man than an alarm clock. Butterfly kisses on her eyelids, light strokes of his hands over her belly, whispered words that both seduced and intrigued. Snuggled close against Case’s side, she was more than willing to spend the entire day like this.
“Well, well, well.”
Gina was so relaxed, so content, it took her a moment to realize that a third person had joined her and Case in her bedroom. When she did, she popped up like a jack-in-a-box to find Zoie standing at the foot of her bed. Mortified that she’d been caught naked in bed with Case, she grabbed the covers and clutched them to her chin.
Case didn’t seem to suffer the same embarrassment. He sat up, stretching like a cat.
“Good morning, Zoie.”
“Yes it is,” she agreed, then dropped her gaze to the point where the covers gathered loosely at his waist and smiled. “And it’s getting better by the minute.”
Pursing her lips in annoyance, Gina snatched the covers to hold up high on Case’s chest. “You might’ve knocked first,” she snapped irritably.
“I did,” Zoie replied, then shrugged. “Guess you couldn’t hear it over all the heavy breathing.”
Irritated that her friend seemed to be enjoying her discomfort, Gina narrowed an eye at her. “What do you want?”
“Just dropped by to see if it was true,” Zoie replied, then grinned. “But I can see that it is.”
“What’s true?” Gina asked impatiently.
Zoie tossed the newspaper she held onto the bed. “See for yourself,” she said, then turned for the door with a casual, “Call me later,” tossed over her shoulder.
Her modesty forgotten, Gina snatched up the paper and flipped it open to find the headline Merger Of Fortunes and beneath it read, Author of children’s books pens her own fairy-tale ending. A stock photo of Case from the newspaper’s files was pictured alongside a publicity photo of her. The publicity pic was one her publisher had requested, in which she held a stuffed Timothy Toad at arm length’s, her lips puckered, as if she was about to kiss him.
Sickened by the sensationalistic slant to the announcement of their engagement, she shifted her gaze back to the headline. How could Case do this to her? she asked in disbelief. Had he been so sure of her answer, himself, that he would release the news to the paper before he’d even proposed?
“Why?” she cried softly, then turned to him, tears blurring her vision. “How could you do this to me?”
“Do what?” he asked in confusion.
She shoved the paper at him and pushed from the bed. “How could you do such a thing?” she cried. “Is your ego so big you never doubted for a minute that I’d say yes? That no woman would ever say no to the mighty Case Fortune?”
Frowning, Case dragged the paper onto his lap. He swore under his breath as he read the headline, then slapped the back of his hand against the paper. “Do you really think I’m responsible for this?” he asked angrily.
“Well, it certainly wasn’t me who leaked the news to the paper! I had no idea you intended to propose last night.”
He glared at her a long moment, his jaw clenched, then he heaved a sigh and stretched out a hand. “Come here.”
She hesitated a moment, not sure she wanted to touch him. Not after he’d turned their engagement into a media circus.
“Gina,” he said firmly.
Though reluctant, she put her hand in his and allowed him to draw her back to bed.
He draped an arm around her and pressed his lips to her hair. “I’m sorry, darling. I know this isn’t the way you probably dreamed of having your engagement announced to the world. What woman would? But I didn’t leak the news to the paper. I swear, it wasn’t me.” Sighing wearily, he rested his forehead against her head. “We need to go and see your father. I’m sure he’s seen this by now and is probably furious with me for not coming to him first and asking for your hand.”
She jerked from his side, her eyes wide in alarm. “No. I don’t want to see him.”
“But, Gina—”
“No! I don’t need his permission to marry. Whatever rights he had in my life he sacrificed a long time ago.”
“Okay, okay,”