What The Magnate Wants: The Magnate's Mail-Order Bride / The Magnate's Marriage Merger / His Accidental Heir

Brushing her lips with his, he took his time entering her, letting her get used to the feel of him. Even if it hadn’t been a long time for her, it still would have felt brand new for being so different. Quinn wasn’t like any man she’d ever met and he treated her body in ways no one ever had before.

So by the time they were joined fully, the sweat on his brow told her how much his gentleness cost him. She kissed his cheek and his jaw, grateful for the tender care. But now, with her body easing around him and the delicious pleasure building again, she could give herself over to the sensations. Let him guide her.

Rolling them over again, he settled her on top of him, giving her a sense of control. His hands remained on her hips, though, setting the pace for each toe-curling thrust. For long moments she lost herself in it—the heat of the friction, the musky scent of his skin, the silken sheets that brushed against her calves. But then, remembering the way Quinn’s eyes had heated on the dance floor earlier, she swiveled her hips with the grace and strength that a ballerina had at her disposal, taking him with her on a sensual slow ride.

His eyes closed as he hissed a low, ragged breath, giving her a tantalizing peek at the man behind the sleek, controlled exterior. When his eyes opened, she saw blue fire even in the dimly lit room.

Spinning her to her back, he kept one arm anchored beneath her, his forearm aligned with her spine, one hand at her neck. Nose to nose, he thrust deeply—again and again—until the pleasure was too much to bear. She came in a blinding rush, a cry rising from her throat while the spasms trembled through every part of her.