House of Trent 01.5 - His for Christmas by Jennifer Haymore Read Free Book Online Page B

were formed and how they were put together, how his jaw was rough with his dark afternoon beard, the inherent maleness and strength of his body.
    She loved the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her, the way he’d so thoughtfully taken care of her needs and seen to her pleasure since she’d encountered him on the road. She loved the way he was gentle yet so powerful and masculine at the same time.
    His movements slowed, then stilled as he studied her below him, still ensnaring her with his gaze.
    “What is it, Amelia?” he asked, his voice rough with barely contained passion.
    “I…” she whispered. But what to say? How to finish?
    How could she go from an innocent love to despising him so thoroughly to… this ?
    And what was “this”? If what she’d felt for Evan at the age of sixteen was love, what was this? This was…more. More physical, more carnal , but also somehow deeper.
    How was it possible to feel more for him now, after a seven-year separation in which they’d both changed, ultimately become different people?
    She didn’t know how it had happened. But it had. She loved him.
    Her eyelids slammed shut against the surge of fear.
    She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t love him and risk something similar to what had happened last time. His words had destroyed her so thoroughly it had taken her years to rebuild herself. She couldn’t allow that to happen again.
    His expression softened, and he lowered himself until his face was scant inches from hers. “Me too, Amelia,” he whispered, moving gently, sending skittering darts of sweet pleasure through her body. “Me too.”

Chapter Five
    E van pressed inside her, making slow, sweet love to her. The expression on her face—hell, if he could bottle it and save it forever, he would. It wasn’t only her beauty, though her beauty spoke to him on a hot, carnal level. It was the way she looked at him. It was the sweetness in her blue eyes, the trust she offered him. It was her forgiveness.
    He pushed his hand into her hair, the silky strands sliding over his fingertips. He surged into her, and the tips of her rounded breasts stroked his chest, making him groan softly.
    He moved downward, circling the shell of her ear with his fingers then feathering them over her jaw before moving lower until he cupped the side of one of her breasts. She filled his hand completely, the flesh warm, soft, and plump.
    “So lovely,” he murmured, then rounded his back and bent down to encircle his lips around the taut peak of her nipple, suckling her tender flesh as he continued the rhythmic penetration of her body. Her back bowed as she arched into him, pressing herself deeper into his mouth.
    She was so responsive to him. Her body clasped around him, a tight, perfect fit.
    Everything about her roused him, reawakened him, and told him in no uncertain terms that she was what he’d been looking for.
    This was heaven—the way her body squeezed over him, the way his body slid through her welcoming heat. The way her breast filled his hand and her nipple grew so taut under his lips.
    His ballocks contracted tight. His cock seemed to expand within her. All his muscles grew tense, and a ball of heat coalesced deep within him inside the base of his spine.
    He was going to come. And God, how desperately he wanted to come inside her. He wanted to make her his in a way he’d made no other woman his own, pour himself into her, plant his seed deep into her womb.
    Instead, he surged up then yanked out of her, and gritting his teeth against shouting with the pleasure of it, he came onto her leg while she held him, her arms tight bands around him.
    He buried his face against her neck, burrowing beneath all that silky blond hair, and nuzzling against her tender skin. When he felt his evening beard rasping against her, he pulled up.
    “Sorry,” he murmured.
    She turned to face him, her gaze replete with satisfaction. “Hm?”
    “Sorry if I scratched you. With my beard.”
    She gave a