Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(126)

Her throat tightened so she simply nodded, hoping he could see in her eyes what she felt—trust, yes, but also a measure of trepidation over what the future held for both of them. And, even more importantly, a longing and a need for him she could no longer deny.

Something blazed in his eyes at her nod—a fierce, bright emotion. Then he was nudging her legs wider apart and settling more heavily between them, the broad head of his erection slipping easily between her wet folds. Slowly, he began pushing in, parting her flesh with a careful, deliberate invasion.

Justine sucked in a breath, instinctively pushing back against the sharp sting as she clenched around him. She stared up at him, noting the strain on his tight features, digging her nails into his rocklike shoulders as he held himself back.

Griffin eased down to brush her lips in a soft, comforting kiss. He hooked a hand under her knee. “Pull your legs up, Justine. Yes, that’s it.”

She moved at his urging and let her breath go as the pain began to fade. In fact, as he slowly rocked into her, she gave in to the impulse to pull her knees up high and wide, opening herself to him.

He groaned and dipped his head, his long hair coming loose from its leather tie, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. She pulled the strip of material from his hair and flung it away, then tunneled her fingers through his thick, long locks, smoothing them down over his back. Justine felt like she was drowning in a world of sensation and emotion, and she willingly went under.

“My God, Justine,” he gasped before planting a searing kiss on her mouth.

Then his movements quickened, his erection filling her. Desire coiled low in her belly. She wrapped her legs around his lean flanks and her arms around his neck, pushing her breasts up against him in her desperation to feel every part of his body on hers. She felt on fire as he took her, melting into him, dying with the pleasure of Griffin inside her, around her, driving deep into her soul.

He shifted, rocking into her high and fast, nudging his hard length over her most sensitive flesh. She arched into him as tiny contractions teased her, clutching at him with all the strength left in her body. A moment later, he rolled his hips with one last, hard push, jolting her to the very core. With a harsh groan, he stiffened, shaking in her arms with the force of his release. Then slowly and with careful control, he lowered himself on top of her until he blanketed her body, his heaving chest pushing her into the blankets.

Justine smoothed her hands down the long fall of his hair, blinking hard against the sudden rush of emotion that had her eyes stinging with tears. It didn’t make sense to want to cry, since she’d loved what he’d just done to her. But the moment seemed replete with a harrowing tenderness, at least for her. Instinct told her, however, that Griffin wouldn’t welcome any such emotional outpourings, particularly since she’d be hard-pressed to even explain what they meant.

Finally he moved, lifting from her body to look at her. His eyes were slumberous and the tension had drained from his face, and she thought he must be the very picture of masculine satisfaction.

Justine gave him a hesitant smile, not sure what was expected of her.

“Ah, my virgin bride,” Griffin murmured in a somewhat mocking tone.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Not anymore.”

He smiled, but then something shifted in his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was husky and deep.




“Her goodly eyes like sapphires shining bright,

Her forehead ivory white,

Her cheeks like apples which the sun hath rudded,

Her lips like cherries charming men to bite.”