TO SAVE EMMY
By Patricia Pellicane
An Erotic Historical Romance
A February 15th release
Buy it at www.totalebound.com
She wanted the one thing he couldn't give.It was only a favor, after all, but Nick couldn't believe his best friend could ask him for that.Lady Emily Redford has asked her best friend for pointers on how to make love. He is astonished at the request. Why ask him? She is recently widowed. Why doesn't she know?Emily explains she is about to take on a completely new lifestyle. She will be taking lovers. Horrified, he asks why not simply marry again? Only Emmy isn't interested in the holy state. Nick is aghast upon realising not only is she about to take lovers but her first is the worst rake in all of London.Nick cannot allow it. He must save her from herself, but who will save him?
Could this be happening? He’d tried so hard to ignore his attraction, struggled for
years, wanted her forever. And never had he dared believe the possibility of kissing her,
really kissing her, of having her.
God, could it be true? Could it be she felt the same?
He gathered her closer, all his yearning hard muscle against her softness. His mind
swam with the deliciousness of her. His hands held her tightly against him. Even as he
shivered, he knew it wasn’t enough. Gently, his hands skimmed over her back, drifting down
lower, lower until he slid them under her ass, pulling her, lifting her so their hips might
meet. He felt the warmth of her through her clothes. How hot was this woman that he could
feel that heat through the many layers of skirt and petticoats? God, he had to know the taste,
feel and smell of her. He reached between her thighs and lifted her so their mouths grew
even. He wanted to feel her against him. He wanted to feel her more than he’d ever wanted
anything in his life.
His body pressed hers hard against the wall, holding her in place with his hips as his
mouth ravished hers. And muttering a sound of displeasure as if it was against his will and
he was forced to stop, he tore his mouth from her heat and raised her higher.
Her breasts, white, gorgeously round and full were bare to his delight, and she gasped
her surprise and groaned in equal pleasure as his mouth suddenly sucked a soft pink nipple
deep into a furnace of blazing heat.
His hands gathered her soft flesh together so his mouth could easily sample one then
the other, biting, licking, sucking back and forth until madness threatened. Her nipples ached
and she only wanted more of the pain.
“Harder,” she murmured. “Oh God, harder please.” She couldn’t bear another minute
of it, yet she never wanted him to stop. Her eyes closed, and her breath hissed between her
teeth as her back arched in silent invitation. “Nicky, oh God, Nicky.”
It wasn’t enough, this meagre tasting of a woman who’d dared to fill his mind, his
senses with aching enticement. He hadn’t the will but to accede to her siren’s call. His need
for her was suddenly, desperately, overpowering. Later, he’d wonder how he’d managed to keep what little sense he had and not take her in a haze of sexual madness, sprawled upon
the drawing room floor.
At her lips again, he couldn’t get enough. How had a mouth grown this soft, this sweet,
and this delicious? How had he not been conscious of the fact? How had a woman come to
smell like this, taste like this? Now that he’d touched her, he thought he might never stop. All
he could think was he had to have more.
Without thought, his hand slid up the length of her leg, under her dress, over silk
stockings and bare thigh, and inside the wide leg of her drawers. He wouldn’t be denied. He
had to know her, touch her and taste her. Together, they groaned as his fingers slid over the
silky smooth skin above her stocking. Her heartbeat tripled, and his gasping came loud to
her ears. There was no tentative touching here, the need to know her, the need to have him
know her, was raw, aching and beyond all-consuming.
Her cry was muffled against his mouth as his fingers slid through her lush protective
curls and, at last, into her pussy. He groaned his pleasure at the blazing heat of her.
His mind swam. Hot, wet. God, he’d thought touching her would be enough, but it
wasn’t. He had to taste her. “I need…” he groaned into her mouth. “Jesus, I need this.”
Emmy was beyond thought, beyond the ability to understand his mutterings. All she
knew was his touch and the wild pounding of her blood. She couldn’t breathe and thought it
would never matter less. She didn’t need air. She needed this, his touch, his kiss. He couldn’t
stop. He couldn’t ever be allowed to stop. She’d waited forever to know this pleasure.
A soft cry escaped her lips as he pulled his hand away from her warmth.
“No,” she moaned into the heat of his mouth. “Don’t stop.” She didn’t want him to
stop. He had to touch her. She’d die if he stopped touching her.
Then his fingers, wet with her juices, were at her mouth and his. In her mouth, he
painted her lips, her tongue with her own sweet cream and licked the last of it as his fingers
were sucked into his own mouth. He was desperate to know all he could of her haunting
scent, her luscious taste. God, he’d never known a woman could taste this good.
The sound of a doorbell ringing and a shrill feminine laugh shocked him from this
wildly erotic moment.
He blinked, once twice then gave a slight shake of his head as if trying to clear a dazed
mind, trying to pull himself from the fog of overwhelming passion. His eyes were wide with
surprise, his body trembling, gasping for every breath. He moved suddenly, sharply away,
only to quickly return to steady her trembling form. What the hell? He cleared his throat and
put a finger inside his cravat, loosening the fabric a bit, the gesture telling clearly his shock,
while his gaze filled with confusion. “Christ, Emmy!” he gasped unable to catch his breath.
Clearly puzzled, he croaked out, “What the hell was that?”
Find Patricia at www.patriciapellicane.com
Thanks for an egg-cerpt of your hot new release,