Read An Improper Wife for Free Online

Did she mean— “No,” he said in a hoarse voice. “It would mean deceiving your husband.”
    She leant so close. Her breath bathed his face. “I choose this lie.”
    Before he could reply, she stole his breath with an open-mouth kiss. She sucked his tongue, swept his mouth with hot, darting strokes, and pressed her breasts into his chest. Taran understood the demand. He pulled back and she trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck.
    “You are so small, so tight. There would be little pleasure for you the first time. Let him take your maidenhead, then I can show you pleasure without recourse.”
    She reached between them and grasped his shaft. “But there is a way?”
    “No.”
    “Men know these things,” she insisted.
    Pleasure radiated from his cock and through his body. He thrust into her palm. “Would you have me take your maidenhead, then face a dawn appointment with your enraged husband?”
    She kissed him. “Is my innocence any more intact because you have not completed the act? My God, look at me.”
    “Yes,” he replied. “Despite the fact I tasted between your legs, your innocence is intact.”
    “Liar.” She lifted herself up so that she could tease his cock at the opening of her channel.
    He sucked in a breath. “There will be pain.”
    “Life is pain,” she replied.
    She was right. And he couldn’t refuse her.
    “Burn into your memory what happens tonight, for you shall have to play the part for your husband.”
    She covered his face in kisses and positioned herself over his shaft.
    “Do not forget the blood on the sheets,” Taran said, his mind in half a fog. “Give him wine. If he is in his cups, he will pay less attention and have little care for your pleasure.”
    Taran tamped down a flicker of guilt. How much care had he planned to take with his future wife’s pleasure?
    He threaded his fingers though Aphrodite’s hair and forced her head back in a vain attempt to discern her face in the dark. “And if the babe that comes this year is not—” he froze. “When are you to wed?”
    “What does it matter?”
    “I will take care, but there are no guarantees. If you find yourself with child…”
    A moment of silence passed before she said, “I have no fear. The wedding is soon. I will not say when.”
    Or where, he thought, and said, “And if the babe is not your husband’s?”
    “Only God can know who the father is.”
    The carriage slowed and rumbled over a several bumps. Propriety be damned, his life be damned. Her fucking husband be damned. Taran savagely claimed her lips. He would burn his memory into her mind. Sear her flesh with his. From this moment forward she would compare her husband to the night she spent in his arms. He would take her to the edge of reason and plunge her into the deepest, darkest places of pleasure. This damned his soul, but he would send her to her husband spoiled.
    His heart rate spiked. Let her husband discover the deception. Then I will claim her.
    Taran yanked his shirt free of the kilt and began unbuttoning it. The carriage turned a corner and her elbow jerked and struck his arm.
    He paused. “If you are uncertain…”
    Cool fingers groped his arm, found the shirt buttons and finished unbuttoning the last two. He shoved the shirt back from his chest, then yanked his kilt up to his waist. His bare leg touched hers and warmth shot to his cock.
    “Come.” He reached beside him into the blackness.
    She clasped his fingers for support as she straddled his lap.
    He kissed her. “You may still turn back.”
    She pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. I am not afraid.”
    “Ah, love. You should be.”
    She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “How much more do I fear the woman I would become without tonight?”
    Taran hesitated, stunned by the honest admission. He damned his good intentions to hell, and kissed her. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, pulling forth a moan of pleasure. Pebbled nipples pressed into his chest. She trailed