Her Marine by Heather Long Read Free Book Online Page A

drive that fierce, thick cock into her.
    But she did know how. Didn’t she?
    Is that an order ? His voice whispered seductively in her mind, trailing lazy tendrils of desire through the ribbons of thought.
    She didn’t know how to do it, but he did.
    “Help me.” Dammit, she sounded so weak. She forced a long breath and banished her fear with the exhale. She could do this. She could drag the control away from him and surrender to it at the same time. “Show me how to do this Marine, take my clothes off and show me how to touch you.”
    His smile grew and every muscle in her body tensed. Triumph and pride filled his eyes and he reached out to tug her shirt from her pants. He took his time and his fingers grazed her bare sides.
    She forgot how to breathe. Emotion fisted around her heart, it wasn’t only lust, but it certainly tasted like it. She’d almost forgotten how the wild, rampant tingles could pierce through her reserve. He urged her arms upward, his gaze never leaving hers. She had to pull her hands away from the swollen heat of his cock and the damp, flushed tip.
    An electric current raced through her blood as the shirt came away. She stood, bare-chested and vulnerable to his gaze. She’d always thought herself small compared to other women. She didn’t think she’d enjoy being nude, especially not with a man looking at her. But Brody was so much more than just a man and his attention caressed her stiffened her nipples further. The awareness that she’d captured his attention so overwhelmingly crowded through her mind.
    She wanted to cover her breasts, but the very idea repulsed her so she held her arms aloft. Arousal clenched her sex tightly, but where she was hesitant, Brody was patient.
    Kneeling slowly in front of her, he slid the zipper down on the side of her pants, his hands framing her hips. Thumbs hooking into waistband of the dress slacks, he peeled them down and carried her damp panties with them. He said nothing, carefully bracing her as she stepped out of the pants. He smiled, his nostrils flaring as he paused to press a kiss to her navel, just above the dark curls hiding her sex.
    The feathery glide of his lips against her skin filled her mind with the most provocative images. Her imagination didn’t need a lot of encouragement to feel his breath against her thighs, or the hard heat of his muscles stroking her body. Her nipples tightened, almost painfully, and she wanted to weep for the emotion sweeping through her.
    The fear tumbled free, smashed by the excitement lancing through her. She wanted him to touch her. The lust gleaming in his eyes said he wanted to touch her.
    He paused, almost considering. His gaze skated around the room. She didn’t know what he saw when he looked at her studio with its wild variety of statues and sculptures in various states of completion.
    “What are you looking for?” She couldn’t quite mask the breathless anticipation in her voice or the impatience surging through her. Her sex clenched, dampness moistening her thighs. This close to such utter perfection and she was ready to explode from want.
    “A bed,” he murmured. “Or something that isn’t filled with sharp tools that would damage your perfect skin.”
    Oh .
    He thought she was perfect. Tears flooded her eyes and she lowered her arms slowly and held out a hand. “Come with me.”
    Threading her fingers with his, she pivoted slowly on one foot and half-skipped, half-danced through the shadows cast by the overhead lights. She guided him through her workspace to the room hidden by an oriental divider. She spent so much time in her studio, she’d installed a bed where she could pass out when the muse let her go. Anticipation curled through her, chasing away the sudden surge of old doubts.
    The oversized double mattress was hardly big enough for Brody. The tangle of sheets was all jersey cotton and she’d forgotten to make it again. She turned toward him and he crowded into her until the back of