It seemed as if the occupants had just up and left. A small stool waited beside the cold hearth, a stiff mat of straw covered with a woolen blanket lay against the wall, and an iron pot sat beside the door.
Brighit covered the space in a few steps then turned toward him. “There does not appear to be anyone here.”
He looked out the open door. The snow was falling so fast that the horse was no longer visible even from a few feet away.
“Perhaps he can come in with us?” Brighit asked.
Peter smiled at her hopeful expression. She no longer seemed vexed with him. The urge to bring her toward him and feel her full length pressed against him was strong. The memory of the way she’d felt increased his desire and he took a step closer to her. He gingerly stroked her cheek. Her eyes no longer appeared indifferent. Perhaps their closeness on the horse had affected her as well.
Her skin was cold against the heat of his palm. “You’re cold.”
He removed his cloak and wrapped it around her, breathing in her scent as he pulled it together. Her head just below his chin, he could swear he smelled her arousal. He held his breath to cut off the groan threatening to escape.
When he should have stepped away, he slid his arm along her back. She trembled. She didn’t move away. His breath quickened.
“I should start a fire for you.”
He grasped her shoulder then rubbed her arm lightly as if for warmth, still not putting any distance between them. She yielded to him, adjusting herself to be more fully within the circle of his arms. Her other arm brushed against his chest. Surely she could feel the racing of his heart. He was ready to burst.
With the lightest touch, he tipped her chin up so he could see into her eyes. He tugged her hood back with his other hand and lowered his lips to hers. Watching for any sign of resistance, there was none. Her lips yielded to gentle pressure, parting to allow him full access. His tongue darted along hers, enticing a response, which was quick in coming. She moaned into his mouth. He placed his hands on either side of her face and deepened the kiss. Then slipping a hand beneath her cloaks, he pulled her against him. His eager manhood pressed toward her softness. When she reached her arm around him to pull him closer still, he fought against the desire to drop her to the pallet. His body begged to have its way with her, responding to this unrelenting need to take her.
Instead he stroked her back with long, gentle caresses. Caresses became firmer strokes, moving lower and lower along her back. When he grasped her firm bottom and pressed her closer still, he rubbed his rigid shaft against her. She cantered her hips in response as if in encouragement. His own moan startled him. He moved his lips along her jaw, drawn to the crook of her neck, nuzzling her. He cupped both cheeks and undulated against her in a mock display of what his body was so eager for.
“I want to be inside you.” His whispered words were tight.
“Please.” Her plea sounded desperate.
When he pulled away, her flushed face revealed her own desire. Her eyes were closed, her lips loosely parted, her tongue darting out to wet its pink length.
“I fear I am not able to stop. I could ravish you.”
“I wish to ravished by you.” Her words came on a moan, sweeping him along with her passion.
Grasping handfuls of her gown, he dragged it up and out of his way, until he could touch her bare skin. Soft as the finest silk. His manhood pushed against her. With open palms, he fondled her with increasing urgency. Finally cupping her fine arse again, he lifted her against him. He pressed himself against her needing the release.
Dragging the tip of his tongue along the ridge of her collarbone, he dipped down to the swell of her breasts. He released one lovely round cheek to follow along the curve of her side up to the swell of her luscious breasts. Firm and full and overflowing in his hand. With great deliberation he brought his mouth down, capturing the hardened nipple, sucking it even through the material. She moaned and rocked her hips against him.
Kissing her again, he shoved the cloaks over her shoulder and slipped his fingers inside the neck of her gown, slipping the one sleeve down to bare a breast. Feasting on the sight before him, covering it with his palm. He tugged her hardened nipple, damp from his assault. He crushed her against him.
“I need to be inside you, Brighit.” He whispered the words, watching her reaction. He took a shaky breath. “I need it more than my next breath.”
She dragged his hand under her gown, parting her legs for his touch.
He worked his fingers into her soft, drenched flesh. “As do you.”
Her moan resonated from deep inside.
Nothing could stop him from slaking himself on this woman. Repeatedly. And the fates be damned.
Chapter Twenty
The wind howled against the primitive shelter that offered little more than a stool and the possibility of a fire. Peter’s scent enveloped her, adding to her overwhelming desire. His fingers stroked her, rubbing her sensitive flesh, sending ripples of pleasure through her core.
“Have your way with me,” Brighit said. Her plea came from deep inside. Her deepest longing. Her body ached to feel him more intimately. His mouth on every inch of her. His hands igniting everywhere he touched.
“Now, Peter.”
Brighit’s sudden urgency was not having the desired effect. He should have lowered her to the pallet. Covered her body with his.
