Annie West - The Sinner's Marriage Redemption

He let her explore, standing passive. Almost passive—for his mouth responded, mimicking her gentle movements, inciting desire that drilled deep.

Ava slipped her tongue between his lips, finding warmth, heat, pleasure. She pressed closer, needing more, letting her body flatten against the intriguing contours of his frame. Bone and muscle and, yes... She twisted her hips. Arousal.

Instantly the hands at her sides clamped, drawing her tighter against him. His stance altered and somehow her body was curved into his, his head and shoulders were dominating, bowing her backwards, surrounding her.

The tempo of their kiss changed as Flynn gave up any pretence at passivity and took control, his mouth working hers, sucking, tasting, delving, drawing delight from every caress.

The world spun behind Ava’s closed lids as sensations more potent than any she’d known racked her body.

It was like tasting a burst of fireworks. Luminous delight singed her, detonating at pulse-points through her primed body, urging her to enjoy, take more, give everything.

Lost in luscious ecstasy, Ava barely registered the softening of her body, the melting at her core. She only knew she needed more.

Hands sliding up through the thick, pelt-like softness of Flynn’s cropped hair, she dragged his head closer, needily angling her face to his marauding mouth. Clumsy in her haste, her teeth mashed his lip and a sound of frustration broke from the back of her throat.

‘Easy...’ His voice was more vibration than sound.

Then all at once she was moving, pressed against the wall, caught between it and Flynn’s hardness. Long fingers bracketed her jaw, holding her still as he plundered her mouth with an expertise that left her reeling.

Ava felt caged, at his mercy, and she loved it. Foggily she registered how wonderful it was to relax her defences and simply feel. She was intoxicated by him.

She hugged him tight. Muscles flexed beneath her fingertips, making her long for the feel of him naked.

Hunger surged.

She shivered, sensations rioting deep within. The scent of Flynn’s skin, fresh like the outdoors, filled her nostrils and his taste, rich and addictive, made her greedy. Every neural pathway was clogged with the awareness of him—the texture of his skin, his heart beating strong and sure against her, the taut strength of his body pinioning her.

Then Flynn slipped his hand between them, moulding one aching breast, and her blood caught fire.

* * *

The sound of Ava’s pleasure was part gasp, part sob, part roughened purr that trailed like cut velvet down his spine, drawing every nerve and sinew tight and hard.

And the taste of her! Sunshine and juicy ripe raspberries. She was like long-ago summers that never ended. And sex. Needy, greedy, heart-thumpingly satisfying sex.

Flynn’s hold tightened on her soft breast and she pressed closer, her nipple a hard little nub against his palm. His heartbeat thundered in his head and his groin.

She responded so readily. She was flame in his hands, making him burn to the depths of his being.

He nudged her legs wider, insinuating his thigh where her heat beckoned, and she welcomed him, her kisses even more fervent.

Flynn groaned into her mouth. She was killing him.

Who’d have thought his delicate English beauty would be a raunchy tigress beneath the jeans and bright, spotted T-shirt? He’d spent a week biding his time, cautious not to overstep the bounds, fearing she might shy from anything too physical too soon. Yet here she was all but climbing his body, supple and eager and so very enticing.

So much for his careful planning!

Flynn rubbed his thumb over her peaked nipple and she shuddered, making his groin spasm. He slipped his other hand from her jaw and down, to cup her backside in those tight jeans, lifting her to cushion his erection. His heavy eyelids sagged as carnal hunger dragged at him.

He couldn’t remember wanting any woman so fervently. It wasn’t what he’d anticipated.

But he should have. He’d wanted her all those years ago, hadn’t he?

‘Flynn...’

It was a sigh and a promise. An invitation he couldn’t resist.

He swung round towards the bed, holding her close—only to come up against the sloping ceiling.

‘Are you okay?’ Gentle fingers skimmed his head.

‘Fine.’

Already he was scanning the twin beds against the far wall. Twin beds! Ava must have booked this room when she’d still expected to share with the girlfriend who’d taken ill and couldn’t travel.

Ava wriggled, her thighs clamping his, and his brain refocused instantly.

They didn’t need a bed. The floor would do—or, yes, here .

Flynn turned, imprisoning her once again against the wall. He slipped his hand from her buttocks round her hip, then down between her legs. Only taut denim and whatever flimsy underwear she wore separated him from the place he wanted to bury himself. She tilted her pelvis into his touch and fire roared through him.

The first time would be fast and hard, but then he’d take his time, learning every exquisite inch of her.

Flynn took her mouth with his, demanding, urging, and Ava responded without hesitation.

Her eagerness was tempered with a slight awkwardness he found faintly endearing. How long since he’d had a woman so obviously inexperienced? Not since his first fumbling assignation in his teens. After a diet of skilful sophisticates Ava was an entrancing breath of fresh air.

Hadn’t he known from the first she was the perfect woman for him?

He’d stroked his hand to the top of her zip when something made him stop. Some sound just discernible through the rush of blood in his ears. Voices. A door slamming. He frowned, lifting his head.

‘It’s okay—just someone in the next room,’ Ava whispered against his throat.

Flynn squeezed his eyes shut as the voices continued, followed by the sound of music. The walls must be made of cardboard.

Behind him a door banged, loud enough that for a moment he thought someone had entered the room. But it must be someone across the landing.

Hell!

‘Flynn?’

Ava’s soft hand stroked his jaw. Even that innocent touch was almost enough to jettison his doubts and obliterate his uncharacteristic hesitation.

Until he opened his eyes and found himself staring into wide cerulean eyes. They were glazed with the same heat he felt, but there was doubt too, a question he’d never seen in the eyes of the women he took to bed.

But Ava wasn’t like them. She was an innocent.

The word hit his chest like the blow of a sledgehammer, robbing him of breath.

Flynn hadn’t missed the almost imperceptible distance she’d kept between them in Paris, even when her eyes shone with laughter and her body language told him she wasn’t immune to him. The stunned delight on her face when he’d kissed her hand today, her almost defiant expression when she’d invited him up here and her passionate kisses, with that slight edge of eager clumsiness, all confirmed it.

Ava wanted him but she was sexually inexperienced. He’d lay odds she was a virgin.

Twenty-four and a virgin. How was it possible?

She leaned in and nuzzled his throat, planting small open-mouthed kisses that turned his body to steel and threatened the last vestige of his control. She rubbed his back in needy arcs and his jeans shrank as her palms came to rest on his buttocks.

His head spun as her grip tightened.

Once more his gaze shifted to the cramped beds. Laughter sounded from the next room and with a sinking feeling Flynn felt his dormant conscience stir.

He didn’t care if the neighbours heard them having raunchy, scream out loud sex against the wall. He didn’t give a damn if he had Ava on a bed or the floor or up against this wall. So long as he had her.