Redeemed By His Stolen Bride. Эбби Грин

a guttural plea to stop…never to stop…to keep going. Her hands were on his head, her fingers in his thick hair as he lavished the same torture on her other breast until they were both tingling and wet from his mouth.

      When he stopped and lifted his head Leonora could barely keep standing. Gabriel pushed her dress down the rest of the way, over her hips. It fell to the floor with a barely audible swish of silk.

      Now she wore only panties and stockings. Her shoes. She kicked them off, dropping a few inches in height. It made Gabriel seem even taller, more impressive.

      Then, before she could worry about how to stay standing on her wobbly legs, she was lifted into the air against his chest and carried over to the bed, where he lay her down as reverently as if she was made of spun glass…