The Rancher Takes A Bride (The Burnett Brides Book 1)

gazed into her lush green eyes and whispered, "If you don't touch me soon, I'm going to burst."
    Her hands were shaking as she slowly undid the wooden buttons of his pants; his manhood strained against the snugness of his clothes. She tugged on his pants, and they fell to the ground in a puddle around his feet. He stepped from them and kicked the burdensome garment out of the way. It took about three seconds for him to shed the shirt that clung to his back.
    He stood before her, naked and needy, needing her to finally fulfill his fantasies, which had haunted him day and night.
    He reached out and touched her breast through the wet chemise, rubbed her nipples, caressed her breasts, and longed to feel them filling his hand.
    Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the center of her palm. His other hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, pressing her against him, her feet between his legs.
    With both hands he reached up and peeled her wet chemise down, exposing first her shoulders, then the tops of her creamy breasts, and finally her nipples.
    Travis sighed and put his lips to the puckered tip, tenderly sucking on the tiny bud. She gasped and arched her back, trying to give him easier access to her breasts. He held her against him, needing her so badly, unable to relinquish the feel of her pressed against his naked flesh.
    This was his cure, his salve, to the emptiness of his soul. One time with Rose would heal him of his need for the seductive wench. One time would last him a lifetime.
    He continued lavishing attention on her breasts, while his hand slid the chemise completely down past her hips, leaving her naked except for her drawers. He tossed the wet garment to the side and let his hands explore her like a blind man's. Touch her, caress her, run his fingers down her satiny skin, all the way to her waist.
    She was silky smooth, velvety, and he wanted to see more. With a gentle tug, he pushed at her pantaloons. She stepped out of his embrace, her eyes wide with desire. Gazing at him, she took both hands and peeled off her pantaloons, slowly revealing, inch by inch, her naked body until she stood before him completely nude.
    Timidly, she glanced at him, her green eyes wide with an innocent stare that almost steamed the dampness of the pond from him.
    He lowered his gaze, staring at her with disbelief. Full breasts, shapely hips, and satiny skin that he longed to taste. He longed to run his lips along the inside of her thigh, taste her until she begged him not to stop.
    Unable to relinquish his hold of Rose, he held her hand, then reached down and picked up the dress she had worn and spread it out on the ground. He sank to the dress and pulled her down beside him on the makeshift bed. Gently, he pushed her back on the ground until they lay side by side, touching, skin against skin, his lips devouring hers with an urgency he'd never felt before.
    Somehow this woman filled his empty spaces; somehow only she could relax his guard and slip behind the barriers he'd erected.
    Side by side, they lay touching. Slowly, as if she were afraid, she reached out and touched him. Put her hand on his shaft. He gasped, the sound strange and guttural to his own ears.
    She clasped her hand around him tentatively, as if she were afraid he would break. Gently she fondled him, watching him, her emerald eyes wide with wonder. Her hand wrapped around him, caressed him until he knew he couldn't hold back much longer.
    His heart pounded in rhythm with his breathing, and he knew that if he didn't stop her, it would all be over in a matter of seconds. And he wanted much more, so very much more.
    His fingers trailed down her breasts, past her waist, until he felt the springy curls beneath his fingers. She jerked when he touched her.
    Then suddenly she grasped his free hand, squeezing as his right hand found her center. He stroked until she was moaning and wet for him. Stroked until Rose was wild with need beneath him. Stroked until he knew he had to be inside her, had to feel her surrounding him, hear her moaning his name.
    She pulled back, her eyes large and dilated as she whispered, "Please do something."
    This woman who had from the beginning teased his senses mercilessly, goaded him, vexed him at every turn, writhed beneath him, surprising him once again with the intensity of their lovemaking.
    He covered her lips with his, raking the inside of her mouth with his tongue, teasing and dancing, retreating and withdrawing. He moved his