Page 59 of Forever Her Bachelor

She gripped his hair, kissing his cheek, pulling him to her, wanting his lips on hers. They kissed sloppily as his movements became more and more insistent. As he pressed his forehead to hers, Pippa opened her eyes to find herself captured in his dark-brown gaze.

He pulled all the way out, sitting the heavy tip of him at her entrance. “You’ve always been mine,” he declared before he thrusted forward, stealing her breath.

She couldn’t breathe. He surrounded her in every way: his admission true, his hard member filling her in places that she did not know existed, his hands roaming her body, and his lips currently kissing her to his will.

It was too much; it was everything, and for once in her life, she had no thoughts or problems running through her mind. She couldn’t think about the confession he had just given her. Pippa had longed to hear it for nearly a decade, and now, as they were so intimately connected, he confessed a part of him she thought never existed.

She had always been his since the moment they met. When he offered to marry her, she could now admit that her girlish heart had been overjoyed that her friend would become more.

Chauncey kissed a delicious path to her neck where she strained to give him access. She squeezed his hand that was connected to hers, the wall of her sex clenching around him.

“Oh God, Chaun—” The name was nearly out of her mouth, but there was still some part of her that held back.

Her mind and body were at war. He had been her Chauncey the entire day, yet she found she could not say it. But dear God, she wanted to say his name because he was both St. Clara and her Chauncey. He wasn’t one or the other. They were the same, and they both were hers.

Wrenching himself from her neck, Chauncey began pounding her sex. Pippa gripped his shoulder with her freehand, needing to hold on to him. “Say it,” he demanded against her lips, his speed increasing.

Pleasure coursed through Pippa; her toes curled as her legs shook. She gripped his fingers tight as he pleasured her body. She wanted to give him what he longed to hear, but she could not speak from the mounting ecstasy that was building. It was no longer about him not being Chauncey. He had proven exactly who he was to her, and she accepted it wholeheartedly.

Pippa took him by the hair as her body quaked with the force of her orgasm. Her toes flexed, her body stiffening. She couldn’t move or say a word. All Pippa could do was feel what her husband was doing to her.

“Tell me. Who gives you pleasure?” Lifting her leg, he moved inside of her, discovering a highly sensitive spot that drove her absolutely mad.

Damnation!

Pippa’s head thrashed back and forth as she tried to hold back the word she knew he wanted to hear. Now, it had become a wicked game to her. “My husband!” she cried, but he shook his own head.

“What is your husband’s name, Kitten?” he asked, his tongue rolling around the pet name smooth and seductive.

She felt him everywhere, the glorious friction, the fire that engulfed her body and threatened to consume her whole being again. Chauncey reached between them, playing with the little ball of nerves at her sex. Pippa’s body rose, nearly bucking him off her with the force of another orgasm. Wave after wave of chaotic pleasure attacked her body. She wanted to say who it was that gave her the intense feelings swirling through her, who always made her feel wanted, safe.

Her body stiffened, shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. Her breath was captured in her throat, and by God, she could no longer deny him anything.

“Tell me,” he demanded, nipping at her bottom lip as he chased his own release.

There was nothing left for her to do but to obey, and Pippa was a dutiful wife after all.

“Chauncey.”

CHAPTER 18

Dear Chauncey,

It is my greatest joy to shout, but my aunt always tells me that a lady never raises her voice. I too am counting down the days until we’re together again. You are terribly missed, and I long for our friendship.

Yours,

Kitten (The Chemist)

His name on her lips was his undoing. St. Clara cried out, unable to hold back his own release. The pleasure started at his lower back, rolling up his spine, rendering him helpless as he shivered on top of her, his head buried in her neck.

“Fuck.” The curse tumbled out of him as it did earlier, but he could not worry about being a gentleman in that moment.

Taking several deep breaths, he allowed his body to relax, and he rolled over, taking his wife with him.

She looked at him with perspiration glistening on her forehead and a look of pure surprise on her face. “That wasunexpected.” Her voice was breathy, a smile spread across her plump lips.

He swept her damp hair out of her face, staring at her. Her cheeks were full of color, and like him, she was struggling to breathe. She looked marvelous.