Her Marine by Heather Long Read Free Book Online Page B

her knees touched the edge. Pulling her hands up to his chest, he flattened her palms against the flexing muscles, guiding her hands with easy strokes, letting her fingers trace the lines of his chest. His heart beat a steady cadence and his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
    He seemed to be as affected by their touching as she was. She swallowed convulsively, aching with so many different emotions, and she didn’t know how to give voice to them all.
    “Shannon?” The gentle, sweeping word teased and comforted her. The absolute gentleness carried no hint of judgment and released a wave of tenderness in her breast.
    Warmth teased her skin as the length of his body pressed close to hers, not quite touching. She basked in the heat, the slow understanding, the naked desire that he made no show of hiding, or the patience that shook off the last, lingering doubt.
    She wasn’t that girl anymore. She had the control, it didn’t matter how much he wanted her. He wasn’t doing a damn thing unless she told him to do it. He’d given his pleasure into her hands and from the wide, thick size of his cock, his want was apparent. But he only stroked his body with her hands, doing exactly what she’d told him to do.
    “Why not your cock?” She asked the question, blushing at the boldness obvious in her words.
    “Because I’m worried that I’ll come all over you if I let you stroke me.”
    She loved his rippling muscles beneath her fingers. She could study their shape for hours, but the easy confession of his own precarious state had her pulling her hands from his. She took his face in her hands. Despite his shaved appearance, she felt the hint of stubble on his cheeks.
    Rising to her tiptoes, she guided his face down to hers and whispered, “Kiss me.” Their lips brushed together, once, twice, three times and then his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue gliding in and demanding entrance. She parted her lips under his, clinging to him while their tongues tangled.
    She slid her hands up to smooth over his close-cropped hair. The cut tickled and tingled against her palms. She surrendered to the need to touch him and stepped into him, electricity bloomed through her as her nipples brushed his chest and his stiff erection thrummed against her belly.
    He tasted so wildly, intensely masculine that she barely noticed the undercurrents of coffee, or the light dinner they shared. All she tasted was Brody, and she moaned his name into his mouth.
    The delicious moment filled her with a confidence she’d never experienced and when she broke the kiss, they both panted heavily. His eyelids were lowered, drowsy with passion, and his firm lips curved into the sexiest smile.
    “Make love to me,” she beckoned. “Touch me.”
     
     
    Brody held onto his control by the thinnest of strings. Watching her take back her own power through control was the most arousing thing he’d ever experienced. Imagining his cock sliding into the vise of her sex had him on the cusp of blowing. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wasn’t sure he could hold out against the stroke of her fingers, not after nearly losing it to the single brush of her fingertip along his head.
    But this wasn’t about him. He’d given the entire night to her and his pleasure stoked hotter because of the woman blooming in his arms. She tasted of coffee, sweet cinnamon, and a spice so feminine that it provoked every male instinct he had to claim her.
    The rapid beat of her pulse, the quiver in her words, even the hesitation in her smoldering eyes told him that as titillated as she was, the power he gave her was as frightening as it was intoxicating. So she was giving it back, through her orders.
    Brody slid his hands down to cup her sweet little ass and then he lifted her, driving himself crazy by stroking her body up the length of his. He deposited her on the bed, following her down and catching himself on one arm. He teased the line of her jaw and then swept down to one