Page 17 of Don’t Wake a Sleeping Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected)

H e had never laid with a virgin nor anyone who knew how to take their own pleasure. Yet, Ada was unmatched in every perceptible way. She was perfect, beautiful, soft, and lush, yet perky and taut. Everything she did, said, and how she looked at him was perfection. Alfred couldn’t muster any more control.

With one hand on his balls and the other on his shaft, she guided him to rub against her little bean. He knew what she was doing, even if she only followed her instincts. Then she clenched inside, sending a shiver down his back. His stomach muscles tightened, and he slid out slightly. One more thrust and he might get her pregnant. It was a risk. A huge one. But could he stop now? He certainly should.

Then she opened her mouth, tilted her head back, and he saw deep into her throat—into the heart of a silent scream. Her swollen red lips, pink tongue, and elegantly curved feminine neck and shoulders. The picture of health and beauty. For a moment, time stood still and only two souls remained in connected harmony.

She grimaced, and he knew this was the moment. If he didn’t stop now, his deal with the widow would be off, but none of that mattered. A life without Ada was unthinkable. He craved her with every fiber of his being and could no longer conceal it.

With a feral roar, he came out quickly and then shoved into her again. She bucked under him and moaned. Her dainty arms clutched him, and she held on as he pumped. He gave as much support as he could, but as he spilled into her, darkness descended.

When his memory returned, Alfred realized he’d collapsed onto her, squishing her breasts under his chest. He groaned as he straightened and pushed off her and onto his side.

“Is this how it always feels?” she asked, rubbing her stomach with one hand and driving the other through her rich mane of messy waves.

“No.” Alfred gathered his thoughts, lost like a leaf in the wind touching the ground for only a second of reality. “Not to me.” He faced her. “I don’t think I’ve ever truly made love before tonight.”

“You didn’t do this?” She faced him, lying on her side. In the nude, he could see her luscious curves. Tenderly, he touched her side, trailing his hands up and down.

“The act, yes. But I never experienced the essence.”

“What does that mean?” He looked at his hand on her bright and toned skin. She was flushed, her cheeks pink, lips swollen from his kisses.

“That I’ve never been in love. In heat, but not in love.” He climbed back over her, a hand on either side of her face.

“You just met me. What could you possibly love?”

He sniffed as a laugh escaped him. She really was adorable, even if she begged for his compliments.

“Let’s see…” He propped himself up to examine her. “Open wide.”

She wrinkled her brows but did as she was told. He gave a cursory glance, before pressing his mouth to hers. “Impeccable teeth. Small tonsils.” He explored with his tongue. She met his thrusts. “Good reflexes, I think.”

“You think?”

He nodded and moved down to her collarbone, kissing a path to her breasts. Under his touch, her nipples hardened immediately. “Definitely.”

He kissed a trail toward her navel. Her waist was narrow, her hips invitingly round, and her legs long. “Turn over,” he rasped.

Vertebrae by vertebrae, he ran his fingers down her spine. “Beautiful straight back,” he said, as she gathered her hair and pulled it forward. When she glanced at him over her shoulder, he nestled his member between her legs again. As if there was an innate urgency to throw himself into her, he tensed, and his lids grew heavy. Bedding Ada was beyond anything he’d known, vulnerable and sensual at the same time. He wanted more.

“Ada, are you able to go again?”

She looked at him seductively over side-swept golden hair, her behind cushioning his cock. Then she tilted to receive him.

He held her hips and, before long, enjoyed the strongest and most earth-shattering sex of his life.