Circle Eight: Vaughn by Emma Lang Read Free Book Online Page B

body on fire. She clenched around his hand while he drew her closer, nudging her entrance. When he slid inside her, her climax continued, pulling him in deeper with ease.
    “Oh God, you’re so tight, so wet.” His tone was one of wonder. “Ellie, you’re perfect.”
    He put his hands on her hips and guided her up and down. She was full, impossibly full with his cock. She’d never felt or imagined anything like it. It was exquisite pain mixed with the utmost pleasure. His pace was unhurried, slow and steady. There didn’t appear to be a barrier for him to break, perhaps because she’d spent her entire life riding horses.
    Now she rode a stallion, a man, a stranger. It was unlike her in so many respects. Perhaps there had been a different Elizabeth lurking beneath her staid exterior.
    “Is there more?” She didn’t recognize her voice, one unstrained and full of passion.
    “Much more, darling, much more.” He released her hips, giving her control.
    She lifted her hips and then lowered them, finding her own rhythm. His mouth continued to lap at her aching breasts while his hand found her nubbin again. The combination of incredible carnality was almost too much to bear. She trembled with another impending release. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she struggled to understand it all.
    “Don’t cry, Ellie. Just let go.” He kissed her then, sweetly, gently.
    Elizabeth exploded, screaming her release to the heavens. She couldn’t see for the stars exploding in her eyes. Her body clenched around his and he gripped her hips once again, plunging deep to find his own climax.
    She collapsed on top of him, his skin to hers. Elizabeth was shaken to her core. Nothing had prepared her for what she’d just experienced. She wondered if she would ever find it again with another man. This had been the perfect initiation to relations between men and women.
    She would never forget Vaughn Montgomery.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Vaughn followed the smell of coffee out to a kitchen. He’d barely noticed it before now, but it was large, clean and held the biggest table he’d ever seen. Must have been built to house all the dozens of family Elizabeth apparently had. A pot of coffee sat on the stove, hot and waiting. With something akin to relief, he took a tin cup from a hook below the shelf over the sink and poured the dark nectar.
    At the first sip, he closed his eyes and groaned. The second sip went down faster. Before he realized it, the cup was empty and he was slurping at drops. The coffee pot called to him again. He would make more if he finished it. For now, he needed more. Desperately. He was out of sorts and needed the coffee to ground him, bring him back to reality. The experience with Elizabeth had shaken him.
    He felt better, although his body was sore and a bit wobbly. Of course, having sex with Elizabeth had been a bad idea, yet he couldn’t regret it. She represented all that was good in the world, all that he wasn’t. It had been sweet, satisfying. Her passion was unmatched. She’d humbled him and taken him to his knees in more than one way.
    She had made the coffee so she was around somewhere. Movement out the window caught his eye. She must be out back in the morning sun. He poured himself a second cup and walked toward the back door. Although he didn’t know what he would say to her, he had to see her, to speak to her. He didn’t know her but somehow he needed to.
    As he walked outside, the warmth of the early morning only hinted at the heat of the day that would arrive soon. Birds twittered while squirrels chattered to each other amongst the hum of insects. The sky was a vibrant blue, so sharp it hurt his eyes. It was a beautiful day.
    Elizabeth stood by a rather impressive garden; rows of plump vegetables and lush leaves reached for the rays of sun. Her long braid lay parallel to her spine, accentuating her tall, elegant form. She appeared like Eve, the beautiful female who represented the first woman, tempting