The Marriage Possession. Helen Bianchin
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‘Now.’ Was that her voice begging for release? The part of her brain that engaged rationale insisted it had to be.
‘Not yet.’
Oh, dear heaven. Yes. Otherwise she’d go insane with need.
Except he wasn’t done. And she almost wept as he brought her to fever pitch…with his hands, his mouth in an oral supplication that blew her away, so far out of her mind she barely stifled an exultant scream as he entered her in one powerful thrust.
Her vaginal muscles contracted, tightly sheathing him as she stretched to accommodate him. When he began to move, she met and matched his rhythm as shameless, pulsating emotion took them to an electrifying high, held them there, then tipped them over into a magically sensual nirvana that was erotic and exquisitely primitive.
Treacherous, Lisane reflected later as she lay in Zac’s arms on the edge of sleep.
Because she never wanted it to end.
An inner voice silently demanded, ‘Does it have to?’
Sadly, she didn’t have an answer.
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