The Sinner's Marriage Redemption. Annie West

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      Ava’s brows rose. No one except Rupert had ever penetrated what she thought of as her armoured look—but then Rupe had grown up in the same family, suffering like her. He knew poise and surface charm didn’t tell the whole story.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ Flynn’s voice was a soft, deep rumble.

      Instantly her nipples beaded and heat melted between her thighs, as if she were ready to continue where they’d left off last night. Her lips firmed at her body’s betrayal. How could she? No man had ever made her weak like this.

      ‘If it’s any consolation it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, walking away last night.’

      His eyes mesmerised, willing her to believe him.

      ‘Then why did you?’

      His mouth kicked up at the corner in a rueful half-smile that infuriatingly made her body hum.

      ‘You deserved better.’

      ‘Better than you?’ In her besotted state Ava couldn’t imagine anyone better than Flynn. That only fuelled her anger.

      Slowly he shook his head, his gaze so intense she felt it like a wave of warmth, engulfing her from her head to her soles.

      ‘Never that. The thought of you with another man...’ Heat flickered in his eyes and Ava’s breath hitched as his expression turned possessive. ‘No. I couldn’t stand it.’

      Some primitive part of her psyche revelled in his discomfort, his possessiveness, even as she reminded herself that no man had the right to control her.

      ‘I meant you deserved better than a cramped bed with the neighbours listening to every gasp and cry, hearing you in ecstasy and imagining exactly what we were doing with each creak of the mattress springs.’

      The heat low in Ava’s body shot, fizzing and supercharged, through every artery and capillary. It branded her body in fiery heat as her imagination provided pictures to go with Flynn’s description. He’d be naked, strong and lithe, his hands sure, his body unflagging, as he took her to heights she’d never experienced.

      Her palms tingled, her fingers tightening as if needing to reach out and touch.

      It took far too long to dispel the erotic images he’d stirred.

      ‘Surely I’m the best judge of that.’ Her voice sounded throaty and full, disturbingly needy. ‘You shouldn’t have just walked out.’ Too late for pride, but her feelings for Flynn made pride seem insignificant. It was honesty she craved.

      ‘I know.’

      He brushed her jaw in the lightest of caresses and she swallowed hard. Only indignation kept her from swaying into his touch.

      ‘It was appalling behaviour. My only excuse...’ his voice dropped to a deliciously deep whisper ‘...is that if I hadn’t walked out there’d have been no time for scruples. I’d have had you fast and hard and very, very loud up against the wall, pounding into you with all the finesse of a horny teenager. I wouldn’t have been satisfied until I had your legs around my waist and you were screaming my name in ecstasy.’

      Ava felt her eyes widen, her heart stuttering at the graphic image. She sucked in a searing breath, watching him watch her absorb his words.

      ‘What would have been wrong with that?’ She didn’t bother to hide her pique.

      His lips curved in that smile she knew so well. His huff of laughter dispelled the shadows in his eyes.

      He stepped in till she was encompassed by him, barricaded from any passing pedestrians.

      ‘Nothing.’

      Flynn’s smile held that hint of wildness she’d always associated with him. Now, turned on her, it produced a frisson of doubt, the unease of a deer spying a hunter.

      ‘It would have been glorious.’

      His gaze dipped to her breasts, peaking against her colourful cotton shirt. Ava wanted to wrap her arms around her breasts, hide their burgeoning response. She wanted even more to revel in his hot hunger.

      Suddenly his eyes meshed with hers. ‘Except you would have regretted it later. When it came time to disentangle our bodies and straighten our clothes you would have been uncomfortable—especially knowing everyone on the floor had heard you come apart in my arms.’

      He was right. She would have been uncomfortable. But she couldn’t imagine for an instant regretting making love with Flynn. Not when she regretted so much not making love with him.

      Flynn’s hand settled at her waist, making her soften despite herself.

      ‘I want our first time to be perfect. I want to pamper you and make you feel special. Not like some cheap one-night stand after a hot and heavy date.’

      Hot and heavy would do it for her right now, but there was magic in the picture he painted. He wanted to make her feel special. No one had ever wanted that.

      Ava was entranced by the idea as much as by the determination stamped on his dark features.

      He wanted her. Her doubts had been ridiculous. She saw desire branded on his face. Excitement stirred like a whispering summer breeze, riffling through her.

      ‘Besides...’ He leaned in, his breath caressing her ear, sending shivers of delight through her primed body. ‘I want your first time to be memorable in the very best way.’

      It took a moment to absorb his words. Ava jerked her head back, shock stiffening her body. He couldn’t know. No one but she knew that she’d never had sex. It wasn’t branded on her forehead!

      ‘What do you mean, my first time?’ she hissed. Mortification hovered at the thought that she’d given away her inexperience—she who’d learned to project sophistication so early.

      Flynn regarded her steadily. ‘Virginity is nothing to be ashamed of.’

      ‘I’m not ashamed,’ she bit out, too late realising she’d confirmed his suspicions.

      He nodded. ‘Good.’ He trailed his knuckles down her hot cheek, his stare once more proprietorial. That look did strange things to her internal organs. It felt as if they were melting. ‘I find the idea utterly entrancing.’

      His palm settled at the base of her throat, his fingers caressing skin turned suddenly hyper-sensitive.

      ‘You have a thing about virgins?’ The words shot out, terse and abrasive. Did his look smack of the sick gloating she’d seen years ago, that last fateful night at Frayne Hall? Then she’d been slavered over like some tasty morsel. A thing, not a person.

      ‘Ava? What is it?’ Flynn’s voice was sharp.

      The air clogged in her throat, depriving her of breath.

      ‘Talk to me.’ It was an order, and it worked, jerking her out of sordid memory and into the present—the quiet street, the big, charismatic man with concern written СКАЧАТЬ