Название | Silk, Swords And Surrender |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Jeannie Lin |
Жанр | Исторические любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Historical |
Издательство | Исторические любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474042598 |
She moaned against his mouth as he stroked his finger between her legs. He had learned what pleased her—was learning still as he parted her folds and deepened his touch, making her writhe and tremble. Her hips twisted against his hand and her cries took on the sound of distress, of desperation.
As the sensation within her began to rise to an unbearable peak Baozhen once again gripped her hips. His head lifted and he met her eyes. His hair had slipped free of its knot and an errant lock fell over his face, giving him a wild look. They were discovering each other after so many years of growing up in close quarters.
There was a moment of stillness as Baozhen positioned himself. Lian’s chest rose and fell rapidly. His ragged breath formed an irregular harmony against hers, as if they had been chasing one another and the hunt was finally done. Done, but not finished.
Baozhen kept his eyes on her face the entire time as he entered her, refusing to relinquish her gaze even when she moaned and clung to him. Her body resisted for only a moment, and then her back arched as the length of him filled her in an endless sensation of penetration and surrender.
He began to move slowly over her. A sheen of sweat formed on his brow as his body lifted and lowered. It was different from last time. Now that she knew what would happen she focused on the feel of Baozhen inside her and let it consume her.
His hips shifted by the barest angle, but it was the difference between heaven and earth. Her lips parted with a gasp as a flood of euphoria swept through her from head to toe.
“Like that?” His breath was hot against her ear as his thrusts sent wave after wave of pleasure through her.
Lian held on to his shoulders and buried her face against his neck as their bodies writhed together, seeking oblivion. It was almost there—just out of reach.
She wrapped her legs around him and Baozhen groaned, his thrusts becoming shorter, deeper.
Soon. Soon, please, soon.
Her vision blackened as climax took her and she squeezed her eyes shut to revel in it. Baozhen was right there with her, letting himself go as soon as he felt the pulse of her body around him, falling as hard and completely as she had.
Finally his muscles loosened and he sank on top of her. For a few moments his weight was welcome, but soon he started to feel heavy and she tried to squirm out from under him. With a chuckle, Baozhen rolled onto his back and took her with him, settling her into the crook of his arm. She drew a lazy pattern over his chest, feeling warm and sated.
“Do you think our parents always wanted us to be wed?” Lian asked after a short silence. She had been enjoying the sound of Baozhen’s heartbeat against her ear.
“They must have gotten impatient waiting.”
She poked at his ribs. “Waiting for you,” she said ruefully.
Baozhen burst into laughter—a deep, rich laughter that filled the room.
“What is it?” she asked, but soon she was caught up in it, laughing as well.
She knew exactly what it was: chasing each other in the alleyway as children, Baozhen taunting her for being skinny, her aiming at him with her slingshot. All those moments...all those memories.
“I loved you from the first moment I saw you,” he said.
“Liar.” She settled back into the warm hollow of his shoulder now that he was no longer shaking with laughter. “You never noticed me.”
“But I did—I always did.”
She pouted a little. That wasn’t how it had happened at all, but all the frustration and endless longing seemed far away with his arms around her. Baozhen had always been there. Their lives intertwined.
“I can’t remember it any other way,” he said tenderly.
She snuggled close and followed the drift of his voice into sleep. All her memories blended together until it seemed there was truth in what he said.
“That’s how it was for me, as well,” she conceded, smiling at the thought of how mercilessly he’d teased her and how she had once hated him with a passion. “From the very first moment.”
* * * * *
THE TAMING OF MEI LIN
Sometimes it feels like it takes a village to put a story to paper!
Special thanks to the emergency brainstorming crew: Eileen Dreyer, Kimberly Killion, Patricia Rice and Karyn Witmer-Gow. And also the Tuesday critique group: Dawn Blankenship, Amanda Berry, Kristi Lea and Shawntelle Madison.
I’m a lucky girl to be surrounded by so many talented friends.
In Chinese culture it’s natural to speak of ancestors as if they’re still present, looking over your shoulder to nod in approval at good decisions and frown over disastrous ones. The role of family is inescapable, ubiquitous and ever-present. Of course this is true for all cultures. Our family histories inspire and guide us.
Ai Li, the heroine of Butterfly Swords for Mills & Boon Historical Romance, constantly refers back to her ancestors and the importance of family honour. The Taming of Mei Lin takes place forty years before Butterfly Swords and tells that love story—the family story that’s passed down for generations to come. In order to create Ai Li’s story of rebellion and impossible love, I always had Mei Lin’s adventure in my head.
I was thrilled to be able to bring that story to life. The Taming of Mei Lin explores the humble beginnings of the Shen family, a line of warriors steeped in duty and honour and, most importantly, love. Writing Mei Lin’s tale allowed me to explore the delicate ways that the past affects the future. It was also an opportunity to tie two love stories near and dear to my heart together.
Contents
Tang Dynasty China, 710 AD
Mei Lin could feel the strands of hair slipping from her knot, tickling against her neck. Uncle made her stand outside during the hottest part of the afternoon, even when there were no customers. She wiped her brow and looked over at Chang’s tofu stand at the end of the street with envy. He at least had the shade of a tree to duck under.
If she planted a seed today, she reckoned