Is that... is that what he means?
“The first time,” Erik continued, his voice gentle despite the rough edge, “there’s a little pain. Yer body has tae stretch tae take me. And there’s a barrier—yer maidenhead—that tears when I push inside. That’s where the blood comes from. The proof the envoy wants.”
“It tears.” She swallowed hard. “That sounds delightful.”
Despite the tension, his mouth twitched. “From the joinin’. From movin’ together.” His hand moved to her waist, settling there with possessive certainty. “But I’d start slow. Get ye ready first. Use me hands, me mouth. Make ye wet enough that when I finally push inside, yer body’s beggin’ fer it.”
Heat flooded her face, her neck, her entire body. “I willnae beg fer… wait, did ye just say yer…mouth?”
“Aye.” Something wicked flickered in his eyes. “On yer skin. Yer neck. Yer breasts.” His gaze dropped to her bodice, then back up. “Between yer legs, if ye’ll let me. Tastin’ ye until ye’re shakin’ and desperate and beggin’ fer me.”
What is happenin’ tae me?
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her body was doing things she didn’t understand: heart racing, skin too hot, that ache between her thighs intensifying until she wanted to press her legs together just to ease it.
“And then?” The words came out hoarse.
“Then I’d enter ye. Slow at first, lettin’ ye adjust tae the feel of me. The stretch. When I’d push through yer maidenhead, there’d be that moment of pain—nae way around that. And once yer body accepted me...” His hand on her waist tightened fractionally. “I’d move. Deep and slow until ye learned the rhythm. Until yer body started movin’ with mine.”
“How would ye ken?” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “How would ye ken if I wanted it?”
His smile was slow, dangerous. “Yer body would tell me. Yer breath would come faster. Yer skin would flush just like it is now. Ye’d get wet. And when I touch ye...” His thumb traced her lower lip, and she gasped. “Ye’d make sounds. Little gasps and moans that’d drive me half-mad with wantin’ ye.”
Her pulse thundered in her ears. “And after? After the pain?”
“After,” he said, his voice gone rough as gravel, “I’d make ye feel things ye’ve never felt before. Until yer whole body releases. Until ye come fer me.”
“Come?”
“Climax. The peak. When all that pleasure crashes over ye like a wave and yer body goes tight around mine and ye forget everythin’ except how good it feels tae have me inside ye.”
She was shaking. Trembling like a leaf in wind, her breath coming in short, sharp pants that made her dizzy.
“That’s what consummation means,” Erik said softly. “That’s what the envoy expects. That’s what should happen tonight.”
He stood, creating distance. The loss of his warmth made her want to reach for him, which terrified her more than anything he’d just described.
“Now,” he said, jaw tight. “I can cut me own hand. Smear blood on those sheets. Ye keep yer maidenhead. Or…” He paused, something vulnerable flickering across his features. “Or I can show ye, little bird.”
Claricia looked at him—this man who’d saved her from drowning, who’d explained the most intimate act imaginable with patience and care, who was now offering her a choice when the law said he could simply take what he wanted.
Her body was screaming yes. Every nerve singing with want she couldn’t name. That ache between her thighs had become unbearable, and the thought of his hands on her—his mouth—made her dizzy with something that felt dangerously close to need.
But her mind…
Logan. What would Logan think of me wantin’ this? Wantin’ him?
“I cannae.” The words burst out, sharp with panic. “I cannae dae this. Nae taenight.”
Erik went very still. “Alright.”
She looked up at him, vision blurred with tears she refused to shed. “Ye’re nae angry?”
“At ye? Nay.” He moved to the table, picked up the eating knife. “Disappointed, maybe. But nae angry. Ye’ve a right tae say nay, Claricia. ‘Tis yer body.”
“What are ye daein’?”
He walked over to his belt, and drew a blade across his palm without hesitation—deep enough to bleed proper, the cut clean and deliberate. Blood welled immediately, dark in the firelight.
