“Years ago, in the battle against the Normans.” He didn’t open his eyes, and it was torment to feel her caressing his skin.
Get her out now,his brain warned.Stop her before it goes too far.
“You’re strong.” Morren’s hands moved over the taut muscles of his stomach. Lower, until they brushed the ties of his trews.
The head of him strained to meet her touch, and he caught her hands. His breathing had grown hoarse as he fought to keep himself under control.
“Morren, stop,” he managed.
She drew her hands back, her lips parted in shock. “Have I done something wrong?”
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m about to do something very wrong, if you don’t leave.”
She moved away from his lap, but his harsh words hadn’t dimmed the curiosity. “What . . . would happen?”
He leaned forward, resting his wrists upon his knees. Heat burned through his skin, his body craving hers. “I’d remove the gown you’re wearing. I’d take off every layer until you were sitting naked upon my lap.”
Her expression grew wary, the color flushed in her cheeks. She took a step backwards, her hands gripping her arms. “Then what?”
Her voice held a trace of interest, and he stood up. Her innocent question aroused him even more. Though he didn’t want to frighten her, she needed to understand. Advancing toward her, he brought his hands to the curve of her waist, sliding down to her hips.
“I’d put you in that chair, Morren, and I’d kiss every last inch of your skin.” He leaned up, pressing his mouth against her throat. “Here.”
His hands held her in place while he lowered his head to the curve of her breast. Through the woolen fabric, he breathed a warm breath upon her nipple. It tightened, and he caught the faint shudder of her desire. “Here,” he whispered.
Then he brought his leg between hers, lifting her weight to straddle him. Though her gown and his trews kept the barriers between them, he knew she could feel his thick erection against her thigh. “I’d even kiss you there, Morren.”
The rise and fall of her lungs was quickening, and he sensed that if he touched her intimately, she would be wet. Sleek with desire.
“I’d use my tongue to taste your salt. I’d kiss you until you trembled, licking your folds until you screamed.”
When he leaned back to look at her, her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. Her mouth was swollen from his kiss earlier, and he wanted to capture it again, driving her closer to her own fulfillment.
She moved her body against his length, and he sensed how close she was. He pressed her back against the wall, his hands just below her arms. Her breasts strained against the wool, and he lowered his mouth to them once again.
“Then, do you know what I’d do?” he murmured, dangerously close to her nipple. The sensitive nub rose up against his cheek, and the aching pain of arousal was so deep, he was close to losing control.
“What would you do?” she breathed, her breath coming in short gasps.
“I’d lift your skirts and I’d join my body with yours. I’d suckle you here—“ His mouth took possession of her breast, dampening the fabric. ”—and then I’d let you ride me. Slow and deep . . . “ He used his fingers to stroke the other nipple, and her face was tight with need.
“Or hard and fast.” He lifted his leg between hers, rubbing her. Coaxing her to reach for the release she craved. “I’d give my body to you, Morren. For your pleasure alone.”
Chapter Eighteen
Hetookhermouthin a fierce kiss, and that was all it took to send her over the edge. Morren gripped his neck, clinging to him in the storm of her release.
It was too much. She trembled as waves of shaking pleasure rocked through her. Her center felt wet and swollen, craving more.
Trahern groaned, holding her tight and his face suddenly transformed, before relaxation came over him. Something had happened, and she suspected his frustration wasn’t as bad as it was before.
She shuddered, resting her face against his chest. Her hands moved over his skin, tracing a pattern over his muscles, her nails scraping against his taut nipple.
Then when she realized what she was doing, she pulled back. Embarrassment and shame washed over her. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I should go.”
A coldness seemed to fill the air between them. He released her, remaining silent.
And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from the babble of words that came out. “I know you had other reasons for wanting to wed me. That it wasn’t about . . . love.” Her shoulders lowered, and she bared her most secret shame. “But even if I’d agreed, I could never be what you wanted.”
