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By Julie Anne Long

More than one attractive woman's hopeshave been dashed at the rocky shoals ofJonathan Redmond's center. together with his rivetinggood seems to be and Redmond wealth and power,the international is his oyster—until an ultimatumfrom his father and a chilling gypsy prophecysend him hurtling headlong towards a fatehe'll do something to prevent: matrimony.

Intoxicating, elusive Thomasina de Ballesteroshas the bloods of London at her ft. yet noneof them is aware the true Tommy—the one witha stunning pedigree, a number of too many secrets,and a fit scorn for rakes like Jonathan.

She's every little thing Jonathan by no means wanted.But on one fateful dead night, he is drawn intoTommy's global of threat, chance . . . and a desirehe'd by no means dreamed attainable. And suddenlyhe's re-thinking every thing . . . includingthe threat that succumbing to prophecymight simply suggest surrendering to love.

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The thighs are all good and reliable, yet i feel you wish to move better. ” He sounded distracted. It used to be an erotic sound. It used to be the start of him wasting his brain with excitement. “Perhaps you wish a map. ” “Patience,” she ordered, yet she bent and indulged him and drew the top of his cock slowly into her mouth. Then traced it along with her tongue, and slid her lips down over it tougher, and it together with her fists. He groaned. “Oh, God. Christ, I’m a fortunate guy. ” His fingers twined via her hair as she slid her lips over him, slowly then speedy, and he arched, his respiring hoarse now. “You wouldn’t examine driving me, may you? ” he requested with politeness. “You’ve wonderful manners,” she purred. “But in fact. ” She climbed aboard, and eased down over his cock, and . . . Oh God . . . she part sighed, part moaned with the excitement of it. She felt him in every single place, her fingertips to the soles of her ft. Her head went again, eyes close. So. stable. His titanic fingers spanned her again, they usually moved jointly slowly at the beginning, eyes locked. each one bold the opposite, teasing with a pause, a gradual slide. He allowed her to dictate the rhythm. sluggish, after which cease. an increase, a pause, then a fall. Sensual torment. The cords of his neck grew taut, and his head thrashed again as his chest heaved opposed to hers. He moaned as she rose back. The sweat sheened his throat, and his eyes have been black now. She licked him the place the sweat traveled to his collarbone. “Please, Tommy. Have mercy. i want . . . please . . . GOD . . . ” He bucked upward, and she or he had mercy. She met him difficult, they usually rocked jointly, a frenzy of becoming a member of now, her nipples chafing his chest a lightning burst of sensation, her arms clawing his shoulders, as she swore and advised him on more durable, and more durable, and deeper, and deeper, until eventually he made a roar of her identify. “Tommy! ” His head dropped again and he shuddered. and he or she buried her lengthy soundless cry in his throat as she shattered. 4 HOURS LATER he chanced on issues approximately her. for example: “You’ve an arse like a peach,” he stated as he lightly nipped one cheek. He’d kissed his approach down her backbone whereas she lay on her belly, sated, her head resting on her arm. He licked the candy little indentation on the base of her backbone, and she or he stirred and sighed. He slipped his hands among her thighs, delicately, flippantly, tracing the downy hair there, until eventually she sighed back, and her thighs shifted open wider. He obliged her, sliding his palms among her legs, to the place she was once slick and satiny soft, and he slid them out and in back. She groaned softly and bridged her hips up. “Do you're keen on it? ” His voice used to be annoying. “Please don’t cease. ” A prayer if she’d ever prayed one. “On your arms and knees,” he ordered softly. She arched her physique as much as obey him. And he shifted to his again, and slipped his head among her legs, and reached his fingers as much as cup her arse, after which introduced her all the way down to his mouth. And he thrust his tongue challenging alongside her wetness. mom of God. The surprise. The beautiful surprise. She hissed the excitement of it because it lightninged via her bud.

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