Rebel's Taboo Heir
Alana Church
Verlag: Boruma Publishing
Beschreibung
When her father, brother, and husband are killed in the Civil War, Clara Kershaw finds her home destined to be handed over to her loutish cousin Zebulon. The only way out is to produce a child. Time is short, and the only man around is her disinherited brother Ross. Can she put aside her fear, seduce him, and produce her heir? ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ Ross lay in the tub, his head propped against a folded towel at one end, his eyes closed. Dark stubble ran along the line of his jaw, but his lips curled in a soft, sweet smile, one she had known since he was a baby, but had seen too seldom since their mother’s death. But that was not caught and held her staring eyes. Her brother’s right hand was wrapped around his…manhood, stroking it slowly. Her own hand flew to her mouth, trapping a gasp before it could be heard by her brother. It was so big! Her mother had warned her, when her womanly courses had first started and her body had begun to change, what lay in store for her. Some men were stallions, she had explained bluntly, and some were not. And a good southern woman would wait until her wedding night until she found out what her husband had below the waist. She had been somewhat…surprised…by that revelation, but not appalled. After all, her father raised and bred horses. And even at thirteen years old, she had seen enough stallions mate with their mares to know how foals were made. It was all perfectly sensible, when explained by her mother in her crisp, no-nonsense voice. “But, Mama?” she had asked. “Do…people actually…like it?” Her mother’s smile had turned dreamy. “Oh, yes, Clara. How else would God reward us for having children? Your father-’’ To Clara’s intense relief, she had cut herself off abruptly. What passed between her mother and father in the bedchamber was something she did NOT want to know. Though they must have done it several times, she thought distractedly, her hand a bloodless claw around the doorknob. And if Father was as blessed by our lord as Ross is, it’s no wonder Mother got that faraway look in her eyes. And it’s a damned miracle she only had four children! Meanwhile, Ross had begun to stroke himself more vigorously. Though his eyes remained closed, his lips had parted, and a pearly bead had appeared at the tip of his manhood. Clara watched it with wide-eyed interest. Edwin was oddly shy in the bedchamber, preferring darkness, and this was one of the few opportunities she had had to see a male body fully exposed. And Ross was much bigger than Edwin. Lord, what I would give if my husband was as blessed as my brother is! From the first time she had come, trembling and shy, to her husband’s bed, she had known she loved the act of lovemaking. And she wanted a child. No, wanted children, with a yearning which was almost visceral. But for some reason, fortune had not blessed her and Edwin yet. And she ached with a need that her husband seldom assuaged. Something told her that there was more to intercourse than her husband’s frantic thrusting, which usually ended all too soon. But who was she to go to for advice? Ross began to breathe heavily, his hand moving swiftly. Then he tensed, his back arching, the lean line of his loins emerging, wet and dripping, from the surface of the water. And then…