Authors: Wendy Stone
A Case of Love (30 page)
"You have the most sensual hair, Shanna,” he said, still speaking softly, letting his cheek rub against the softness of her hair. “Do you know how much men love long hair? Especially like yours, it's so thick and almost seems to have a life of its own. It makes me wonder how it would feel wrapped around me, draped over me, against my naked skin.” He lifted handfuls and let it run out of his hands like water.
"Your skin is perfect,” he whispered, his fingers coming up to trace across her cheeks, feeling the heat of her blush. “Creamy silk,” he moaned. The back of his hand tracing down her throat and across her collar bone, then barely brushing the hardened tip of her nipple.
Riley Moore is an FBI agent working her way to the top. She never thought that getting shot would change her career. That is until she found out about the little bundle she was carrying. Now, she didn't worry about suspects as much as she did how to tell daddy, Dillon Hunter.
When Riley showed up in his Lansing office, Dillon had no idea the bomb she was about to drop on him. Instead, all he could think about was how much he'd missed her and how she felt when he was inside of her. When morning sickness tells the tale, he explodes.
Following her to Texas, they become embroiled in an evil scheme concocted by villain, Sebastian Antonelli. Can they win the day and save their relationship? Can Dillon find the Key to her Heart?
"God, Dillon,” she cried. “What are you doing to me?"
"Loving you, Rylie.” His mouth found the curve of her stomach, licking over the taut muscle, his hands grasped the band of her jeans and tugged them down, baring her needy sex to his eyes and mouth.
Rylie managed to kick off her shoes, before he yanked her jeans and panties down her long legs. Half naked and writhing on the desk, Dillon couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her, almost as if he was waiting for her to disappear. With a growl he lifted her, wrapping his arm around her waist, he carried her over to the small couch against one wall. He dropped down onto the couch, her legs coming down to straddle his thigh, his thumb brushing against the soft curls that covered her sex.
"You are so exquisite,” He growled, sliding his hand to her stomach, his thumb parting the slickness of her lower lips, slipping inside hot wetness and finding the hard button of her clit. “Fuck, Rylie,” he groaned as he felt how ready she was for him, how much she wanted him. “I need you."
Her hand was at his waist, trying to unbuckle his slacks with one hand. She fumbled, cursing under her breath, finally whimpering his name, staring into his eyes. “Please,” she begged. “I want to feel you inside of me."
Danielle had no idea what would happen to her when her cruel stepmother called for her. She didn't know she was being sold in marriage to a man she'd never met. And when she did meet him, she couldn't see beyond the foreboding mask he wore.
Christopher would pay any price to win Danielle as his own, even respecting her request for separate bedrooms. But can his gentleness win her over, or will she always see him as the beast?
"My Lord,” she said, her words almost whisper soft and breathless with nervous anticipation of his reaction. “I...I need to ask something of you."
Christopher sat down his fork, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and gave her his full attention. “Whatever I can do, Danielle, you have but to ask,” he said simply and with a gentle smile.
Danielle could hear David's insidious voice in her ear, his words of previous wives and the horror of her husband's perversions making her even more nervous. And confused. His actions with her, his manner had been kind and gentle, not that of a horrible beast who planned abominable things that she couldn't even imagine.
"What is it, my Lady?"
"I... I don't want to share your bed.” The words blurted from her mouth quickly and without thought. As soon as they were spoken, she wished she could call them back. She saw the look in his eyes grow bitter, and he stared down at his gloved hand with animosity. Did he think his scars were.... “No, Christopher. Oh, God, no, it's not that.” She flew from her chair around the small table until she knelt by his legs, looking up at him. “I just mean, we have only just met and don't know how we will deal with the other yet. A few days, time for both of us to grow accustomed to the other.” Her hand reached out and touched his face, her fingers gentle on his unscarred cheek. “Can you not give me this, husband?"
