The Accidental Bride Read Online Free Page B

freeing his cock. It bounced up, eager and hard, ready for her.
    Lizzie made as if to kneel and give him head, but he drew her towards his pelvis. ‘Kneel and straddle me, darling. I need to be in you again. I want to make you come, and see your lovely face as you do.’
    Sizing up the situation, Lizzie climbed onto the bed, John shuffling back a little and helping her into position. Her thighs at either side of him, she poised herself as he held his cock, allowing her to view the beautiful length of it as he reached for the ever handy condom.
    For a moment, she stood apart from the intimacy of their tableau, wondering if a time would ever come when they no longer used condoms. The wonder of being skin to skin with him was something she’d been thinking about and fantasising about, but there never seemed to be the rightmoment to raise the issue. And whenever she’d hinted, she’d got the distinct impression that John made a conscious point of not taking that hint. For some reason … Could it be that it was simply a closeness too far for him?
    And yet, the way John’s eyes flared as his cock nudged her pussy almost made her wonder if the notion was crossing his mind at this very moment. He held her by the waist, supporting her in a sure hold, their intimate flesh touching yet not touching, his and hers, yin and yang, but still separated. She almost spoke, but then held back. Why spoil everything by getting into complications right now?
    ‘You’re so beautiful … so beautiful …’ he whispered, hips lifting, not pushing right in yet, but breaching her entrance, stretching her. His hands were strong; he was supporting her weight, making it easy for her, even though she wouldn’t have minded at all if it wasn’t easy and her thighs were screaming from the tension of holding herself aloft. ‘I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, you wonderful woman, you.’
    She wanted to say she was the lucky one. The ‘ordinary girl’ who’d won the heart of an extraordinary man. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of. Kind, intelligent, sophisticated, funny. As handsome as sin, and a lover nonpareil. All that would have been an embarrassment of wonderfulness; but the whipped Chantilly cream on the top of the dessert of it all was that he was also fabulously wealthy, a man of enormous means who could put resources at her disposal and help her achieve goals and dreams.
    ‘Don’t tease me, you beast,’ she said, laughing. ‘That big beautiful cock of yours … Don’t be mean. Let me have it all!’
    ‘Then have it, my sex goddess, have it.’ His smile was like the sun, glorious, teasing, loving, wonderful.
    And his cock, as he pulled her down onto him, was unequivocal.
    He filled her body, her heart, her soul, her life, and when she was settled, he sought her clit and stroked it. Lovingly.
    Coming, she praised his name and howled, ‘I love you!’
    Later, she changed her nightgown for an old one of hers, one of the few she possessed, and John gently massaged a bit of his super-secret muscle balm – formulated by a posh London apothecary – into her bottom to soothe it. He’d told her it was for his tricky knee, although she’d yet to see any evidence of said trickiness. His knees were as magnificent as the rest of him, in her opinion. But the balm was good stuff, nevertheless, and actually did reduce the soreness. She’d probably be able to lie on her back now, but she decided not to chance it, and snuggled onto her front, turning her head on the pillow to watch John.
    He was sitting up, leaning against a mound of pillows of his own, flicking through something or other on his iPad. Probably financial reports; he was a terrible workaholic. And working, reading emails, checking weather reports or just about goddamn anything all staved off facing the issue of whether he was going to attempt to sleep beside her tonight.
    I wish you’d tell me what it is. I know most things now … even about that bitch Clara