A Wife for a Westmoreland / Claiming His Royal Heir: A Wife for a Westmoreland. Brenda Jackson

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СКАЧАТЬ was being transferred to her, building a fire she could not contain any longer.

      He released her mouth long enough for her to call his name. “Derringer!”

      He was devouring her in a way she’d never been devoured before and she couldn’t help but cry out as his tongue took over. The lower part of him was sending waves of pleasure crashing through her that had her sucking in sharp breaths.

      She had heard—mainly from Chloe during one of their infamous girl chats—that making love to a man, especially one you loved, was a totally rewarding and satisfying experience. But no one told her that it could be so mind-consuming and pleasurable. Or that it could literally curl your toes. Maybe Chloe had told her these things and she hadn’t believed her. Well, now she believed. And with each hard plunge into her body, Derringer was making all the fantasies she’d ever had of him a reality.

      He released her mouth to look down at her while he kept making love to her, riding her the way he rode those horses he tamed. He was good. And he was also greedy. To keep up with him, she kept grinding her hips against his as sensations within her intensified to a degree that she knew she couldn’t handle much longer. She cried out again and again as sensations continued to spiral through her.

      And then something happened that had never happened to her before and she knew what it was the moment she felt it. He drove deeper and deeper into her, riding her right into a climax of monumental proportions. He lifted his head and met her gaze and the dark orbs gazing at her pushed her even more over the edge.

      And when he whispered the name Puddin’, thinking it was hers, she accepted it because it had sounded so good coming from him, and it was all she needed to hear to push her into her very first orgasm.

      “Derringer!”

      He lowered his head again and his tongue slid easily inside her mouth. She continued to grind against him, accepting everything he was giving. Moments later, after breaking off the kiss, he threw his head back and whispered the name again in a deep guttural tone, and he continued to stroke her into sweet oblivion.

      Lucia slowly opened her eyes while wondering just how long she’d slept. The last thing she remembered was dropping her head onto the pillow. She’d been weak, spent and totally and thoroughly satisfied after making love to the sexiest man to walk the face of the earth.

      He was no longer on top of her, but was asleep beside her. She missed the weight of him pressing down on her. She missed how his heart felt beating against hers, but most of all she missed the feel of him being inside her.

      Remnants of ecstasy were still trickling through her when she thought of what they’d done and all they’d shared. Being gripped in the throes of orgasm after orgasm for several long moments was enough to blow anybody’s mind and it had certainly done a job on her. And the way he had looked down at her—during those times he wasn’t kissing her—had sent exquisite sensation after exquisite sensation spiraling through her. Even with the bandages covering his chest and parts of his back, she had felt him—the hardness of his shoulders and the way the muscles in his back had flexed beneath her fingertips.

      There was no way she could or would forget tonight. It would always be ingrained in her memory despite the fact that she knew he probably would not remember a single thing. That thought bothered her and she fought back the tears that threatened her eyes. They should be tears of joy and not of sorrow, she thought. She had loved him for so long, but at least she had these memories to cherish.

      The rain had stopped and all was quiet except the even, restful sound of Derringer’s breathing. Day was breaking and she had to leave. The sooner she did so the better. She could just imagine what he would think if he woke and found her there in bed with him. Whatever words he might say would destroy the beautiful memories of the night she intended to keep.

      And her guess was that someone—any one of his brothers, sisters or cousins—might show up any minute to check up on him. They, too, would be shocked as heck to find her there.

      She slowly eased out of bed, trying not to wake him, and glanced around for her clothes. She found all the items she needed except for her panties. He had taken them off her while she was in bed, so chances were they were somewhere under the covers.

      She slowly lifted the covers and saw the pair of pink panties were trapped beneath his leg. It would be easy enough to wake him and ask him to move his leg so she could get them, but there was no way she could do such a thing. She stood there a moment, hoping he would stir just a little so she could pull them free.

      Lucia nervously gnawed on her bottom lip, knowing she couldn’t just stand there forever, so she quietly began getting dressed. And only when the sun began peeking over the horizon did she accepted that she had to leave quickly … without her panties.

      Glancing around the room to make sure that was the only thing she would be leaving behind, she slowly tiptoed out of the room, but not before glancing over her shoulder one last time to look at Derringer. So this was how he looked in the early mornings. With his shadowed face showing an unshaven chin while lying on the pillow, he looked even more handsome than he’d been last night.

      He would probably wonder whose panties were left in his bed, but then he might not. He bedded so many women that it wouldn’t matter that one had left a pair of their panties behind. To him it might not be any big deal. Probably wouldn’t be.

      Moments later while driving away, she glanced back in her rearview mirror at Derringer’s home, remembering all that had taken place during the night in his bedroom. She was no longer a virgin. She had given him something she had never given another man, and the only sad part was that he would never, ever know it.

      Two

      Some woman had been in his bed.

      The potent scent of sex brought Derringer awake, and he lifted his lids then closed them when the sunlight coming through his bedroom window nearly blinded him. He shifted his body and then flinched when pain shot up one of his legs at the same time his chest began aching.

      He slowly lifted his head from the pillow, thinking he needed to take some more pain pills, and dropped it back down when he remembered he might have taken one too many last night. Megan would clobber him for taking more than he should have, but at least he’d slept through the night.

      Or had he?

      He sniffed the air and the scent of a woman’s perfume and of sex was still prevalent in his nostrils. Why? And why were clips of making love to a woman in this very bed going through his brain? It was the best dream he’d had in years. Usually a dream of making love to a woman couldn’t touch the reality, but with the one he’d had last night, he would beg to differ. He could understand dreaming about making love to a woman because it had been a while for him. Getting the horse business off the ground with his brother Zane, his cousin Jason and their newfound relatives, those Westmorelands living in Georgia, Montana and Texas, had taken up a lot of his time lately. But his dream had felt so real. That was one hell of an illusion.

      Nevertheless, he thought, stretching his body then wishing he hadn’t when he felt another pain, it had been well worth the experience.

      He reached down to rub his aching thigh, when his hand came in contact with a lacy piece of material. He brought up his hand and blinked when he saw the pair of lace bikini panties that carried the feminine scent he had awakened to.

      Pulling himself up in bed, he studied the underthings he held in his hand. Whose were they? Where had they come from? He sniffed the СКАЧАТЬ