“It may well be only a case of not enough wrinkle cream. I recommend a thorough dousing with Olympian Dew. —Phillippa, the Dowager Marchioness of Somerset John couldn’t get enough of her. No matter how long he kissed this girl, it wouldn’t be enough. He needed Rebecca like he needed his next breath. He drew the air from her lungs and replaced it with his own. He was inside her in a way, he a part of her and she a part of him. Their mouths might be the point of contact, but the connection... went far deeper. Lord, she was sweet. She suckled his tongue and shyly offered her own. He’d take it. He’d take all of her. He was someone else when he was with Rebecca, someone he didn’t mind being so very badly. He kissed down the satiny column of her neck. Her hitched breaths went straight to his groin. He’d never been this hard in his life. John kissed his way under the blankets until he met the turned edge of her bodice.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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