Improper Gentlemen by Mia Marlowe, Diane Whiteside, Maggie Robinson Read Free Book Online Page B

if they had all the time in the world and the storm raging outside was their personal guardian. But that wasn’t enough, not when every taste and texture sent need spiraling out of control. Justin delved deep until Charlotte could think of nothing but him, his mouth joined to hers, and his strong hands creating firebrands under her skin wherever he touched. Her breasts ached under her nightgown until every breath seemed an effort.
    Justin lifted his head and she whimpered a protest.
    “Patience, sugar, you’ll enjoy this, too.”
    “Promise?”
    He raked his teeth lightly over the tendons in her throat. A slug of purest lust jolted through her body and heated her pussy. Her eyes crossed. “Oh, dear Lord,” she muttered.
    He chuckled and did it again, nibbling on her until she writhed under him with her hands locked on his shoulders. His whipcord-lean body pinned her effortlessly, teasing her with the faint friction of linen trapped between his strong muscles and her sensitive, sweating skin.
    She flung her head back and fought to speak against the hunger pulsing in her blood. “When do you plan to end this?”
    “Darling, this is only the beginning.” His drawl was very thick.
    She shot him an incredulous look, then thumped her head back against the pillow.
    “We haven’t even started to explore the delights below your neck.”
    “What?” Holbrook had never gone below her throat.
    Justin’s hand cupped her breast and squeezed lightly. Charlotte arched into him and moaned. Dear Lord, her breasts were so agonizingly sensitive and he felt so wonderful.
    “That’s my sugar,” Justin crooned and slipped his hand inside her nightgown. He caressed her again, plucking and teasing her nipple. Everything centered there—sensation, yearning, pulses of lust between her breast and her heart—and she sank her hands into his back to encourage him.
    How could so much of herself have become such a giant, throbbing ache? Even when she was alone and played with herself, she’d never felt anything so intense. Oh, dear heaven, but she was wet.
    And when he switched to her other breast but continued to tease the first, it was better still. “Oh, Justin, Justin.”
    “Sweet, sweet darling, you truly don’t know what to do, do you?” he muttered somewhere near her ribcage. She ignored him in favor of rubbing herself over his leg. It wasn’t enough for satisfaction but it allowed her hot, aching core some relief.
    His big hand stroked the outside of her thigh. She sighed happily and her hips soon matched his rhythm. His fingers shifted to the inside of her leg and slipped higher, teasing and stroking. She tried to thrust down on him but he grunted disapproval. She stopped, disappointment burning hotter than her pulse.
    “Good girl,” he crooned. He shifted and suddenly his thigh was outside hers. His warm hand cupped her mound, heating it like sunshine on a winter garden. Even breathing was almost too much to bear when her hips wanted to hurl themselves into his grasp.
    She fought for words to plead with. The bedding was long since banished.
    “I, ah—oh, Justin!”
    His fingers slid in between her legs and he fondled her. He teased her folds, playing with them as if furling and unfurling them was his greatest joy.
    “Justin . . .” Charlotte helplessly opened herself completely to him. He rumbled praise and need burned brighter in her.
    All that mattered now was feeling his hands and mouth on her, the soft kiss of his clothing when he shifted position over her, the honeyed incitement of his voice building the fire in her blood.
    Her hips rocked closer and closer to him. The first blunt finger to enter her was all joy, while the second came with extra cream and teasing.
    He thrust his fingers into her hard again and again and her pearl was so sensitive. The brink was so very close.
    “More, please more,” she sobbed and ground herself down on his hand.
    He rubbed her clit hard and simultaneously nipped her