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“His expression was graven, a mask of urgent desire. "Wrap your legs around me." She could barely make out the gravelly command; it took an instant to register that his palms had slid beneath her bottom, supporting her weight, then to make her muscles obey her enough to obey him. Immediately her thighs clamped about him, he lowered her hips, and she realized- felt the broad head of his erection nudge against her entrance, then he pressed in, and drew her down. As he thrust upward. Head falling back, she gasped as he impaled her, as the sensation of him riding hard and high into her body engulfed her senses, and dragged them down. Into a whirlpool of seething desire, of passion so hot it scorched, of a need so fiery it melted her bones. He lifted her, and brought her down again, thrusting upward as he did, and every nerve she possessed shook, shuddered. With a need he understood; legs braced, he held her in his arms before the fireplace, the heat from the flames dancing over her flushed skin as he gripped her bottom and held her to him, held her body against him and filled her again and again.”

Quote by Stephanie Laurens

Book:The Taste of Innocence
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The Taste of Innocence

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Stephanie Laurens
Stephanie Laurens

Stephanie Laurens, born on August 14, 1953, is a British historical fiction author. Her works are set in 18th-century England and depict love, adventure, and the life of the aristocracy of that era. Laurens' novels have been highly popular with readers and have won numerous literary awards. more

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“Her legs splayed wide as he dropped her onto the mattress, his big body settling between them, and she cried out as he slid back inside her, his hardness stretching her lusciously. He began to pump in a slow, steady motion that wouldn't alter no matter how she writhed and begged him to go harder, faster, deeper. His mouth went to her breast, sucking at a nipple, tugging sweetly in time to his thrusting. Her body contracted every time he pushed inward, clasping him hungrily, sensation building until a powerful climax began, wringing every inch of her body with raw force. She fell silent, her hips locked in a steep arch against his weight. Still the measured rhythm went on, extracting every last flicker of sensation. He was tireless, unhurried, using himself to satisfy her. At last Phoebe collapsed down on the bed, shivering uncontrollably. West plunged into her... once, twice, thrice... and pulled out to crush the thick wet rod of his sex against her stomach. He buried a savage growl in the bedclothes and clutched the mattress on either side of her so hard she thought he might gouge holes in it. As she felt the hot spill of his release, an unfamiliar croon came from her throat, a sound of primal satisfaction at having pleased her mate.”

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“He kissed her panting mouth, loving the damp, satiny insides of her lips, the little velvety tongue lapping at his. Every time he drew his cock partially out, her muscles worked frantically to close on him, tug him back inside. The delight was so intense, he was half afraid his essence was leaking from him, seeping into that lively, luscious channel. She was coming now, tightening, pulsing, milking his hard-swollen flesh, while he fought to keep every movement steady and controlled, to make it good for her. The weight of his bollocks drew up tight and heavy, his body primed for release. He held on, stroking hard and deep, making her ride the movement until she had stopped spasming.”

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“Lani couldn't respond. She was too busy reveling in just how amazing they felt, joined. She'd thought maybe it was the delirium of the first time that had her thinking rosy thoughts. Well, and the second time. And the third. "How is it even better this time? How?" she panted, moving on top of him. She squealed an instant later when she found herself neatly on her back once again. He pushed deeper, and growled a little. "Am I hurtin' you?" "No. Don't stop," she panted, then growled a little herself as he thrust into her, again and again. She knew now, when he was fully beyond controlling himself, bits and pieces of his childhood accent resurfaced. For whatever reason, that was just hot as hell to her. It was earthy, primal. "Oh," she said, then, "Oh!" when he pulled her thighs up higher along his waist, tilting her so she was just at the right angle to- "How do you- do that?" she managed. That was it as the crescendo of sensation washed up and over, taking her on a hard, fast ride in to shore.”

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“One glimpse of a wide, hair-matted chest, the merest hint of a jutting arousal was all she had before he planted his hands very deliberately alongside her body. Fionna smothered a sound of disappointment. Maidenly honest be damned, she'd wanted to see for herself the part of him that- The thought was cut abruptly short when he stretched out above her. Skin against skin. Breasts against chest. Belly to belly. There was not an inch of her body that wasn't engulfed by his. Had he not propped himself up on his elbows, his weight would have been intolerable. He kissed her again, and she sensed his struggle to keep his desire in check. A little playfully- no, perhaps naughtily- she ran her toe up and down the knotted muscles of his calf. Aidan lifted his head. Now he was the one who gave a hoarse laugh. "Do you toy with me, you little witch?" The shift in her leg had also made her breathtakingly aware of the steely erection that lay thick and hard against her belly... as well as the twin fullness that lay below.”

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“Fionna had thought he could shock her no more. But what he did next... Pleasantly rough fingertips skimmed the sensitive skin behind her knees, then lifted them high. With the breadth of his shoulders, he braced her wide apart. Wide apart... and open. She gasped, for now she was vulnerable in a way she'd never dreamed might happen. "You said you trusted me," he reminded her, one side of his mouth curling up. "Do you trust me, Fionna?" Fionna let out a ragged breath. Acknowledgement came in the merest rise and fall of her chin. Yet her body jerked when he brushed his lips across the hollow of her belly. Her heart jolted when his mouth traced a shattering path to the inside of one slender thigh. Her every thought gave way when the journey continued. His hands slid beneath her to cradle her buttocks. With the pads of his thumbs, he parted her soft down, exposing hot, furrowed flesh. Her eyes widened, for she had gleamed his intent. Her heart was near to bursting. With the wanton blade of his tongue he touched the center of her core, circling that aching bud of desire and tugging it into his mouth, much the same way as he had sucked her nipples. And in so doing... he proved that he was far more learned than one might ever have imagined. And immensely more talented as well. Time stood still as he tasted her again and again, his mouth divinely tormenting. Tasted her until she was slick from his tongue, slick with desire.”

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“It was worth the battle to restrain them to hear her increasingly ragged gasps, to feel the desperation mount within her and know it wasn't him driving, wasn't him orchestrating and controlling her that made her so. As they moved together, her riding him, him thrusting just enough to appease them both, to let passion flow unimpeded on its course, as the familiar landscape of sexual delight flowered around them, as passion wound through them and tightened its snare, he was distantly aware of how different the familiar was. How much more layered with feeling, with meaning. With emotion. The end, when it came, was an implosion of sensation, finer, sharper, reaching more deeply than any such moment before. With a cry, high, triumphant, and primarily female, she shattered in his arms; the contractions of her sheath caught him, drew him on. Release swept him, and he cried her name, held her down, his grip unforgiving as he shuddered beneath her.”

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“Through the tempest of their passions, through the wild turbulent ride, Sarah was conscious only of sensation. It buffeted her, overwhelmed her mind, etched itself on her awareness. So that despite the heat and the delirious pleasure of his body moving over hers, despite the powerful thrusts that physically rocked her, despite the impossible clamoring urgency that had her tilting her hips to take him yet more deeply, that had her scoring his back urging him desperately to ride her yet more forcefully, the one element that shone through the raging veil was his hunger for her. It was every bit as deep and powerful and demanding as her hunger for him. No- more. For him, in him, that hunger was so potent, so deeply ingrained that she had no doubt he would give every last gasp to sate it- to consummate it, to give it life, here with her in their bed. It drove him, and controlled him, and drew her into the maelstrom, too, until she was as passionate as he in finding the way to appease it, to sate it, to discover the way into its temple and sacrifice herself at its altar. And at the last, in the final mind-shattering moment when she clung by her fingernails over the sensual void, the veils ripped apart and she saw that hungry power clearly- saw, felt, with her own senses knew what it was. Unquestionably, beyond doubt. Then he thrust one last time and with a cry she shattered; with a sob she lost her grip on reality and fell. Weightless for that moment, that briefest of journeys, falling from heavenly pleasure into satiation's soothing sea.”

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