The Virgin Proxy by Georgia Fox Read Free Book Online Page A

it. Below, in the courtyard, his men cheered in celebration. Guy’s heart beat rolled like thunder. He couldn’t catch a breath. She was incredibly tight, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her nails probably leaving bloody half-moons. He wished he could see her face.
    “I’m sorry,” he gasped, one hand stroking her hair through the veil, the other arm wrapped tight around her waist. I’m sorry? He was horrified to hear those words bursting out through his lips. He’d never said that before. Never. But when he felt her rapid, uneven heart beat and heard her scattered breath exhaled in pain, he wished he’d spent even more time preparing her. She was so small compared to his great, muscular frame.
    Through that heavy, maidenly veil he sought her mouth with his, overtaken with the need to kiss her. Soft lips parted under his, but the gauze remained between them, moist with their urgent breath. With one hand he tried to lift it, but she clung to the veil, holding it down, even as the embattled kiss continued. He might have wrenched it from her hands, but in an unusual rush of giddy tenderness, he resorted to licking her mouth through the veil, circling her full, opened lips with his tongue, as if persuading her to let him in.
    In the yard below, his men were loud and rowdy, drunk and stupid on too much wedding ale. They would suffer tomorrow on the training field. This practical thought broke through the pleasant fog and he realized there was an odd, needy noise coming from his own throat, almost pleading with her to let him remove the veil and hold his lips to hers.
    To compensate for that weak moment, he wasted no more time on her comfort or those mushy, trifling caresses. Hands gripping her waist, he moved her up and down his throbbing dick, pumping his hips, squeezing the muscles in his thighs and buttocks with every savage thrust. He thought of last night, when she’d looked up at him, dewy eyed and breathless, showing him her breasts. He thought of her teasing tongue licking the bead of semen from his crest, her eyelashes feathering over his roused flesh.
    He came hard, gushing into her body, holding her down on his ramrod, sharing every broken breath his mate inhaled. Then he kissed her again. The veil still got in the way, but he hunted, chased her lips through the material and possessed them as heartily as he’d taken her virginity.
    She was his now. His playmate.
    Merry as a boy with a new pony to ride, he didn’t care where the other woman was, because he had what he needed. Tomorrow, surely, he would feel differently, but for now he as content with one woman. She was all he wanted.
     
     

Chapter Five
     
    Deorwynn bent over, kneeling on the end of the bed, while he stood behind her and slid his finger, coated in something warm and wet, into her anus. Meanwhile his hard prick parted her pussy lips yet again and she welcomed it, squeezing and caressing with her sheath. She should have been sore by now, but she was in no mood to refuse him anything. The sensations he gave her were incomparable; she’d given up trying to think of words that might suit her current state of joyful, unbound carelessness.
    If he did not soon fall asleep, Sybilia would never have a chance to slip into the bed before dawn light and she would never be released from her duty as the proxy virgin. Deorwynn knew she should be alarmed by the thought. Should be. But this adventure had stopped feeling like a duty about an hour ago, when she heard him cry out with his first climax. She was surprised, gratified even, that it shook him as powerfully as it did her. Then she wanted to kiss him—to kiss the filthy rotten, no-good Norman—and she was thankful that his instinct was the same, his mouth, hot, wet and rapacious, seeking her lips through the thick veil. She’d not known he was about to spill, until she heard his hollow cry and felt the warm liquid flow into her. It was too late to stop him. First thing tomorrow she’d have