Rachel's Journey #wipitup
For my very first #wipitup I thought I would share part of a scene from my soon-to-be-released spanking romance novel Rachel's Journey.
“Hmmm,” James murmured in agreement. Then he rolled over and kissed her. She kissed him back, raw passion lending urgency to the way their lips melded together, and when she opened her mouth slightly he pressed his tongue gently inside, exploring her mouth. Her hand cupped the back of his head, her fingers entwined in his curls, pressing him ever closer to her, deepening the kiss. His hand trailed down her front, inside the buttons of her shirt, while the other hand clasped the base of her neck, where her shoulders met her spine. The kiss was hot, crushing, undeniable passion fulfilling the primal need within them. Electricity coursed through Rachel’s body and she was aware of only one thing: desire. She wanted him, no needed him.
With their lips still melded together, James’ searching fingers unbuttoned her shirt and he pushed it down off her shoulders, exposing her breasts scantily clad in a white lace bra that really wasn’t suited for physical work. Breaking apart, James took her hand and led her stumbling inside, where he kicked the door shut behind them.
“Take me to bed,” Rachel whispered huskily, hissing as his hand brushed over her still-throbbing bottom. With a grin, James lowered his mouth to hers again, backing her up the hallway towards his bedroom, guiding her with gentle hands on her shoulders as he flicked his tongue in and out of her mouth, tasting her, teasing her, devouring her.
He lay her gently down on his bed, mindful of her sore bottom, and aware, too, of his own injuries. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered softly, hoarsely, hoping against hope that she would be; he wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting another woman.
“Yes. I’m sure. But I’m not a virgin, James,” she told him quietly, ruefully, feeling as though she was letting him down. She’d always wanted to save herself for the “right man” but she’d foolishly thought Mike had been that man.
James just winked at her. “Neither am I,” he grinned rakishly.
Startled, she realised how her words had sounded. “Oh! But I’m not a …”“Shhh,” he put his finger to her lips. “I know.” Then he pressed his lips to hers, effectively silencing her with a kiss.
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