body from behind. The flames felt good against her back when she’d started undressing. She did not need to look down to know her breasts fit snug inside the garment. The soft fabric—normally so comfortable—chafed her overly sensitive skin. She wanted his hands upon her and nothing more.
“You are—” he seemed to search for words, his eyes never leaving her body as he tossed the tapestryunceremoniously upon the straw-filled mattress “—a feast for the eyes.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, eager for his touch.
“Then I hope you’ve brought an appetite,” she teased, lifting her hands to her hair to untwine the plaits. “It will be my pleasure to serve you.”
She was on her back in a flash.
A primal thrill shot through her at the sweet feminine joy of being overpowered. The weight of him squeezed and tantalized her even as he propped himself on an elbow to bear some of the burden. She had not guessed she could have such a strong effect on him, to lure him so thoroughly to bed.
Her half-undone hair fell about her shoulders, a silken coverlet between her and the tapestry beneath her. He buried his nose in the untwining curls, breathing in her scent.
“You smell like honey. I cannot drink mead without thinking of you.” He gripped the hem of her kirtle where it drifted about her thighs and skimmed it up her legs.
Baring her hips.
Her breath caught in her throat as her heartbeat raced.
“I will spoil your taste for all others,” she warned, savoring the feel of his hand at her waist. Skin on skin at last.
She gave herself to him so wholly, so eagerly,perhaps he would never realize she was so innocent. Heaven knew she wanted him with the fevered urgency of a female in heat.
“You did that long ago.” He cupped her bottom in his palm, startling a gasp from her as he guided her hips toward his staff. Even through his braies, she could feel the length and thickness of him.
A shiver of delight mingled with fear. Mayhap he would recognize maidenly resistance all too well.
“Have mercy, my lord,” she murmured, her words tumbling out too fast while she tried to catch her breath. “You will be my undoing.”
“Count on it,” he vowed, spreading her thighs with his. “It’s my turn to spoil your taste for all others now.”
With his teeth, he nipped the neck of her kirtle and raked it down, exposing her breasts. He plucked at one tight peak between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a cry of sharp yearning. Desire flowed thick and fast in her veins. Slick, feminine heat drenched the tender, sensitive place between her thighs. He must have felt that warm wanting.
Idly, she raked her nails over his hips, tugging ineffectually at his braies. She wanted what came next—even if it meant her last secret was revealed.
She had a woman’s right to know true pleasure with a man who understood how to provide it.
“Take me,” she whispered, thrashing this way andthat on the pallet underneath the sweet torment of his thumb circling her nipple.
In answer, he licked the swollen crest and nipped it between his teeth. Her hips bucked in response, as if an invisible cord connected that place where he licked and sucked with the throbbing spot between her legs. The physical joy of it was merciless.
At last, one hand dipped down her belly to sift through the damp curls shielding her sex. She made soft, crooning noises in her throat that she could not possibly stifle. The feel of his fingers sliding along the slick folds was enough to drive her to madness.
Still, he took his time, his tongue working over the peak of her breast with the same thorough attention as his finger massaged that sweet spot between her thighs.
In the dark recesses of her brain, she recognized the movement of his free hand along the ties of his braies, freeing his sex. She could feel the heat of his shaft along her thigh. But mostly, she could only pay attention to the anticipation coiling tight in her womb. Her
“You are—” he seemed to search for words, his eyes never leaving her body as he tossed the tapestryunceremoniously upon the straw-filled mattress “—a feast for the eyes.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, eager for his touch.
“Then I hope you’ve brought an appetite,” she teased, lifting her hands to her hair to untwine the plaits. “It will be my pleasure to serve you.”
She was on her back in a flash.
A primal thrill shot through her at the sweet feminine joy of being overpowered. The weight of him squeezed and tantalized her even as he propped himself on an elbow to bear some of the burden. She had not guessed she could have such a strong effect on him, to lure him so thoroughly to bed.
Her half-undone hair fell about her shoulders, a silken coverlet between her and the tapestry beneath her. He buried his nose in the untwining curls, breathing in her scent.
“You smell like honey. I cannot drink mead without thinking of you.” He gripped the hem of her kirtle where it drifted about her thighs and skimmed it up her legs.
Baring her hips.
Her breath caught in her throat as her heartbeat raced.
“I will spoil your taste for all others,” she warned, savoring the feel of his hand at her waist. Skin on skin at last.
She gave herself to him so wholly, so eagerly,perhaps he would never realize she was so innocent. Heaven knew she wanted him with the fevered urgency of a female in heat.
“You did that long ago.” He cupped her bottom in his palm, startling a gasp from her as he guided her hips toward his staff. Even through his braies, she could feel the length and thickness of him.
A shiver of delight mingled with fear. Mayhap he would recognize maidenly resistance all too well.
“Have mercy, my lord,” she murmured, her words tumbling out too fast while she tried to catch her breath. “You will be my undoing.”
“Count on it,” he vowed, spreading her thighs with his. “It’s my turn to spoil your taste for all others now.”
With his teeth, he nipped the neck of her kirtle and raked it down, exposing her breasts. He plucked at one tight peak between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a cry of sharp yearning. Desire flowed thick and fast in her veins. Slick, feminine heat drenched the tender, sensitive place between her thighs. He must have felt that warm wanting.
Idly, she raked her nails over his hips, tugging ineffectually at his braies. She wanted what came next—even if it meant her last secret was revealed.
She had a woman’s right to know true pleasure with a man who understood how to provide it.
“Take me,” she whispered, thrashing this way andthat on the pallet underneath the sweet torment of his thumb circling her nipple.
In answer, he licked the swollen crest and nipped it between his teeth. Her hips bucked in response, as if an invisible cord connected that place where he licked and sucked with the throbbing spot between her legs. The physical joy of it was merciless.
At last, one hand dipped down her belly to sift through the damp curls shielding her sex. She made soft, crooning noises in her throat that she could not possibly stifle. The feel of his fingers sliding along the slick folds was enough to drive her to madness.
Still, he took his time, his tongue working over the peak of her breast with the same thorough attention as his finger massaged that sweet spot between her thighs.
In the dark recesses of her brain, she recognized the movement of his free hand along the ties of his braies, freeing his sex. She could feel the heat of his shaft along her thigh. But mostly, she could only pay attention to the anticipation coiling tight in her womb. Her
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