Her eyes slid closed as she began to come apart at the seams. Magnus’s free hand came up to cup her chin, his grip strong and sure.
“Look at me Isabelle,” he ordered softly. “I want to see it in yer eyes.”
Obliging, she opened heavy lids to find his ocean-blue gaze only inches from hers. She could lose herself in that gaze. She could lose herself inhim. And she was about to do just that.
Her breath hitched as Magnus increased the tempo of his fingers, applying just the right amount of pressure to send her spiraling towards the edge. He watched her, his eyes burning as she succumbed to the pleasure he was eliciting.The feeling was too intense, too overwhelming, and Izzy could do nothing but surrender to it.
Feeling her body tighten around his fingers, Izzy gasped out Magnus’s name and then surrendered to the wave of pleasure that had been building inside her. Ecstasy swept her away, obliterating all thought, all awareness, except for the exquisite sensations that washed through her.
She didn’t know how long it took for her to come back to herself and regain a measure of composure, but when she did, she found Magnus lying on the bed next to her, propped on one elbow. He was watching her with a hunger that made her pulse hammer all over again.
With the sight of him, dark hair tousled as it framed his face, blue eyes dark and intense as he watched her, rippling muscles immersed in shadows and highlights, she wondered if she’d strayed into a dream. Was she really here, right now, doing...this with Magnus? Or had she fallen asleep and none of this was real, just her deepest longings made manifest?
But then Magnus leaned forward and kissed her and she knew it was all very, very real.
“Isabelle,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. “My Isabelle.”
“Magnus,” she murmured, rolling towards him so they were face-to-face. She placed her palms flat against his sculpted chest, her hands small against his large body. She felt the heat emanating from him, burning like a forge-fire. He was real, gloriously, wonderfully real.
“Magnus,” Izzy whispered again, the only word she seemed able to form.
Her fingers slid over his chest, tracing the patterns of his muscles as though committing them to memory. She watched the play of emotions in his intense eyes, saw how they softened when her fingertips brushed over his sensitive nipples. His breath hitched slightly and she smiled at having such power over him.
She slid her hands lower to rest over the bulge in his britches. She could see the clear imprint of his manhood straining against the material. Reaching out, she gently caressed the length of him through the fabric. Magnus gasped and Izzy could feel his arousal burning through the fabric, could see his struggle for control mirrored in his eyes.
It was time to tip the scales.
With a small smile playing on her lips, Izzy pushed Magnus onto his back and began to undo the lacing of his britches. Her fingers were surprisingly steady as they worked through the knots, until finally, she released the whole glorious length of him.
The sigh that escaped him as Izzy wrapped her hand around him was guttural, almost animalistic. She loved that sound, loved how it made her feel: powerful, strong, able to unravel this fearsome warrior, just as he had done to her.
Magnus’s eyes never left hers as she began to stroke him slowly. His full lips were parted slightly, his breaths coming in shallow, rushed gasps. One of his hands found its way into her hair, tangling into the silky strands while his other hand rested on her hip, his fingers digging slightly into her flesh.
Removing her hand from him momentarily, Izzy carefully leaned over him and looped her loose hair behind her earto keep it from distracting her. She lowered her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss at the base of his arousal.
Magnus let out a startled gasp, his hand automatically tightening in her hair while the other one fisted into the bedsheets. Izzy smiled against his skin before taking him into her mouth, his sharp intake of breath ringing in her ears. She moved slowly, savoring the taste of him as she swirled her tongue around his length, drawing out a low groan from Magnus. His free hand moved from the bedsheets to cup the back of her head, fingers tangling in her dark tresses.
He was hard and hot, tasting salty and slightly sweet on her tongue. She heard him curse under his breath as she increased her pace, her mouth working in rhythm.
“Isabelle,” he breathed, his voice nearly unrecognizable with desire. She glanced up at him through her lashes, meeting his gaze. The sight of him—eyes half-lidded with passion, lips parted and panting heavily—made her heart race and something warm flutter in her belly. “I need to be inside ye.”
The urgency in his voice was a raw, primal thing that sent a thrill shooting through her. She released him from her mouth with one last lingering lick and climbed back up his body until she was straddling him. His eyes were dark with need, the blue of them almost black.
She leaned down to capture his lips with hers again, soft and sweet, the complete opposite of the urgency burning through her body. Magnus’s hands roamed over her back as they kissed, warm and big and grounding.
“Are ye ready for me, lass?” he asked against her lips, his voice husky.
Izzy nodded, biting her lower lip, unable to form coherent words. With a low, animal growl, he rolled, pushing her off him and then pinning her beneath him on the bed. Now he was the one in control, so much bigger than her, so much more powerful.
And yet, he hesitated.
“Is this...is this what ye want?” he asked, his Scottish brogue rolling off his tongue like the sweetest whisky. “I...I dinna wish to hurt ye.”
“You won’t,” she replied, kissing the tip of his nose. “You won’t.”
“Are ye certain, Isabelle?” he asked, looking at her with a depth of emotion that made her heart flutter in her chest. “Once we cross this line, there’ll be no turning back.”
“I know, Magnus,” she whispered. “And I don’t want to turn back. I want you. All of you.”
