“Lose the panties,” he instructed.
She didn’t waste time shimmying those off too.
Trimmed, dark bush he’d already seen, and knew he loved,she’d left enough there it was all woman.
So he went there first, diving in, fingers slipping throughher wet.
“You weren’t the only one ready for it all through dinner,”she whispered.
He stared into her eyes.
His Georgiana.
He slid his hand away, caught her by the waist, threw her onthe bed…
And joined her there.
Dutch knew it’d go like it went.It was what he wanted forthe both of them.
This beingwild.
This bringingfire.
She almost tore his shirt getting it off him.He knew helost a button or two.
In fact, she was so lost in it, one of his boots didn’t hitthe floor, it hit the wall, she threw it so hard.
It was a tussle, who could get the most the fastest in everyway imaginable.Lips and tongues and teeth and hands and fingers and arms andlegs, even toes.
And he knew when she was done, ready for it, also she wantedup top so she could see him as she took him.
But that shit was not happening.
And Dutch had no issue with using his superior strength toroll her to her back and power-twisting his hips until they fell between herlegs.
“Dutch,” she protested.
“Shut it,” he replied.
“Dutch!”she snapped.
He caught her under her jaw, gentle but firm, and shestilled under him.
Then she started panting, the pink in her cheeks rising, ashe shifted his hips to find her, both of them staring in each other’s eyes.
“Dutch,” she breathed, the word heavy with want, need, hope,yeah, Christ yeah, it was there.
Right there.
Love.
He didn’t respond verbally, because he found her, pressed inwith the tip, and she lifted her knees, pulling in the whole head.
“Baby,” he murmured, because just that was beautiful.
She ran her hands up either side of his spine, then driftedher nails, feather light, down the length of it.
When she curled her arms around his back, pressed her thighsagainst his hips, slowly, he slid in to the root.
