facing him. His pale turquoise eyes were hot
and electrifying. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely.
Marguerite held him to her as every hormone in her body sizzled. Never in her life had
she been more aroused. More aware of any man. His tongue spiked against hers as he
pressed her even closer to his lean, hard body. Her hardened nipples brushed against his
chest, making her moan from the contact and from the insatiable desire to touch him
without their clothes separating them.
She'd never been the kind of woman to hop into bed with a guy she'd just met. In fact,
she'd only known two other lovers in her life. One had been a friend her first year of
college and the other had been a guy she'd dated for a little over a year. Those times had
been pleasant enough but never stellar.
The men hadn't made her feel like this… made her feel like she would die if she didn't
touch them. Made her burn in pleasure of the thought of having them inside her.
But Wren did.
Her breasts were heavy and aching. Her breath ragged as it mingled with his while they
kissed.
He lifted the hem of her skirt up slowly, so slowly that the expectation was almost
painful. She groaned at the feel of his callused hands on her bare skin. At the sensation of
the heat of his skin mixed with the cool air as he caressed her with firm, confident hands. It
was the most erotic moment of her life. She was already wet and throbbing, needing to feel
even more of him. It was all she could do not to beg him to have mercy on her.
Wren explored her mouth, wanting to taste more of her. He'd never felt hunger like this.
Needful. Throbbing. Demanding. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her as he
lifted her skirt even more so that he could feel the softness of her thighs. She was a warm,
perfect heaven.
He'd never touched a woman before, at least not like this, and he was beginning to
understand why as the animal inside him roared with ferocity. It was a dangerous beast that
wanted to devour her. It roared and clawed, wanting freedom.
Wanting her.
Raw possessiveness swelled up inside him with a stunning ferocity. He finally
understood why animals killed those who came near their territory. If anyone else ever
touched her…
Wren would rip them to shreds.
He left her lips and buried his mouth against her throat where he felt her heartbeat
pounding. Licking and teasing her soft skin, he slowly slid his hand down underneath the
waistband of her dark blue panties. He half-expected her to stop him, but she didn't.
Instead, she parted her legs more, giving him access to the part of her that he craved as she
held on to his shoulders.
Oh yeah, this was what he needed. He felt her shiver as he stroked her with a
tenderness he'd never known he possessed. If anyone had ever told him that he could hold
a woman and not hurt her, he would have laughed at them, and yet he was gently holding
Maggie.
No, he was making love to her. It was a human term that he'd never understood until
this moment. But even more surprising was the fact that he was enjoying it so much.
Her short, crisp hairs brushed his fingers as he sank his hand down farther, seeking her.
He separated the tender folds of her body until he could touch the part of her that he
needed most. He closed his eyes and trembled as he sank one long finger deep inside her.
She jumped and moaned against his lips.
Wren growled in triumph as he stroked her. She was so wet. So soft. Her murmurs
filled his ears, making him even harder for her.
Marguerite couldn't think as he tormented her with his touch. And when he sank another
long, tanned finger deep inside her, she feared her knees would buckle.
"I have to have you, Maggie," he whispered gruffly in her ear.
She answered him by unbuttoning his shirt so that she could feel all that lush, beautiful
skin. She hesitated as she saw the bandage still on his shoulder from where he'd protected
her. A foreign
and electrifying. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely.
Marguerite held him to her as every hormone in her body sizzled. Never in her life had
she been more aroused. More aware of any man. His tongue spiked against hers as he
pressed her even closer to his lean, hard body. Her hardened nipples brushed against his
chest, making her moan from the contact and from the insatiable desire to touch him
without their clothes separating them.
She'd never been the kind of woman to hop into bed with a guy she'd just met. In fact,
she'd only known two other lovers in her life. One had been a friend her first year of
college and the other had been a guy she'd dated for a little over a year. Those times had
been pleasant enough but never stellar.
The men hadn't made her feel like this… made her feel like she would die if she didn't
touch them. Made her burn in pleasure of the thought of having them inside her.
But Wren did.
Her breasts were heavy and aching. Her breath ragged as it mingled with his while they
kissed.
He lifted the hem of her skirt up slowly, so slowly that the expectation was almost
painful. She groaned at the feel of his callused hands on her bare skin. At the sensation of
the heat of his skin mixed with the cool air as he caressed her with firm, confident hands. It
was the most erotic moment of her life. She was already wet and throbbing, needing to feel
even more of him. It was all she could do not to beg him to have mercy on her.
Wren explored her mouth, wanting to taste more of her. He'd never felt hunger like this.
Needful. Throbbing. Demanding. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her as he
lifted her skirt even more so that he could feel the softness of her thighs. She was a warm,
perfect heaven.
He'd never touched a woman before, at least not like this, and he was beginning to
understand why as the animal inside him roared with ferocity. It was a dangerous beast that
wanted to devour her. It roared and clawed, wanting freedom.
Wanting her.
Raw possessiveness swelled up inside him with a stunning ferocity. He finally
understood why animals killed those who came near their territory. If anyone else ever
touched her…
Wren would rip them to shreds.
He left her lips and buried his mouth against her throat where he felt her heartbeat
pounding. Licking and teasing her soft skin, he slowly slid his hand down underneath the
waistband of her dark blue panties. He half-expected her to stop him, but she didn't.
Instead, she parted her legs more, giving him access to the part of her that he craved as she
held on to his shoulders.
Oh yeah, this was what he needed. He felt her shiver as he stroked her with a
tenderness he'd never known he possessed. If anyone had ever told him that he could hold
a woman and not hurt her, he would have laughed at them, and yet he was gently holding
Maggie.
No, he was making love to her. It was a human term that he'd never understood until
this moment. But even more surprising was the fact that he was enjoying it so much.
Her short, crisp hairs brushed his fingers as he sank his hand down farther, seeking her.
He separated the tender folds of her body until he could touch the part of her that he
needed most. He closed his eyes and trembled as he sank one long finger deep inside her.
She jumped and moaned against his lips.
Wren growled in triumph as he stroked her. She was so wet. So soft. Her murmurs
filled his ears, making him even harder for her.
Marguerite couldn't think as he tormented her with his touch. And when he sank another
long, tanned finger deep inside her, she feared her knees would buckle.
"I have to have you, Maggie," he whispered gruffly in her ear.
She answered him by unbuttoning his shirt so that she could feel all that lush, beautiful
skin. She hesitated as she saw the bandage still on his shoulder from where he'd protected
her. A foreign
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