"Yes" was the weak and only answer Ingrid was capable of at that moment. To say anything else would be dangerous because it would lead to more yes's and probably become incoherent moans of pleasure all too quickly.<br/><br/>She had never in her life experienced anything like the force of this man, picking her up and handling her as if she was no more than a rag doll. THIS was the man she was to marry. THIS was the masterful, powerful man who would own her, body and soul on the morrow. THIS was just a taste, no doubt, of all the ways he would touch her, devour her, own her.<br/><br/>As his hand cupped her breast, a sweet, ragged moan of pleasure trickled from her lips. His breath against her collarbone was hot and his voice rich and seductive. The sensation was extraordinary, having his mouth so close to her bosom...so close...and then his body pressed against hers and a jolt of pleasure shot through her, causing her to arch her back, thrusting out her chest and her hips as her head fell back.