“I think the others may know,” she said. “We should talk to them now.”
He followed her to the stairway and was surprised when she stopped and turned to him. It put her face level with his own.
“My thanks for saving me,” she said, touching his mouth in a quick, fierce kiss. She rested her arms on his shoulders and touched her forehead to his. “I could feel your strength around me, Soren. I knew you were there.”
He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her mouth and tasting her deeply. She tasted salty like the sea. She leaned against him and ran her fingers through his hair. Cupping his head in her hands, she tilted her face and offered herself to him. He took it, sucking in her lower lip and grazing it between his teeth. She leaned her head back and he pressed his mouth on the tender skin of her neck, nipping up to the edge of her ear and biting it.
She arched against him, her breasts pressing into his chest and her hips grinding on his. Soren reached down and gathered the length of her skirt in his hand, teasing the curls he found with the back of it while holding her in place. With the other hand, he stroked between her legs, moving his hand over the soft skin of her inner thighs and then up in between. She gasped but did not move away.
Staring into her eyes, he pleasured her until she was wet and panting. Then he unlaced his breeches and took out his cock. Pressing forward, he found the place he wanted and entered her in one thrust. He guided her hips down and she hissed as she slid down his length, seating him deep within her.
“I have noticed,” Soren said as he withdrew and thrust again. “You want me after you have been in the sea,” he whispered. Leaning forward until she was sitting on the stairs, he shifted so that he could enter her by driving his flesh up and back into her.
She arched up against him then, her flesh grabbing and holding him, creating a marvelous friction as he moved in and out of her. If his weight on her bothered her, she said nothing. Always she opened for him and allowed him his way.
Within the tight area of the steps, Soren could not move the way he wanted to, so he took hold of her and walked up to the main chamber. She laughed when he nearly dropped her, but her legs around his hips kept him seated within her. As soon as they were out of the stairway, he knelt down and settled deep inside of her with a moan. One she matched.
And then he took her the way she liked him to— thrusting deep, pulling out and plunging back in, hard. He reached up and tried to unlace the ties of her gown. He wanted his hands on her breasts. He wanted to kiss them and bite the nipples and make her scream. When the ties resisted, he tore them apart as she laughed.
“I would have loosened them,” she said as he covered one nipple, sucking it into his mouth and teasing the tip with his teeth.
“It was taking too long, Ran.”
Kiss, lick, suck, bite. Then listen to her release a sigh or moan deep in her throat. He left marks this time, small red love bites along the undersides of her breasts that she would see when she dressed or bathed. Kiss, lick, suck, bite. She arched against him, clutching her strong legs around him, trying to keep him buried in her.
“You are taking too long, Soren,” she whispered.
“Is that a challenge? Should we see who finishes first?” Her laugh turned to moans and gasps and then screams as he plundered her. He would make her come first. Rolling to one side, he slid one hand down her back and slipped his thickest finger against the puckered opening. He did not enter, just pressed against it as though he would.
“Soren,” she yelled out.
“You made the wager,” he whispered, sliding his other hand down between her legs and against the little bud of flesh that was most sensitive. Hooking his finger against the bud, he held her tightly in his grip. If she moved or squirmed, she pushed him in deeper, either his fingers or his cock.
He knew the moment she gave in, thrusting herself against the hand in front, so that his cock moved, too. Enough play, he decided. Taking his hands from pleasuring her, he rolled her to her back and held her arse tightly. Then he counted his thrusts—an old game between them.
“One.” He thrust deep and pulled back with a shift of his hips.
“Two.” Another thrust, sliding them along the floor.
“Three.” She shuddered then, it began deep inside around his cock and then took over her body.
“Four, five, six.” Her body clenched tightly around his flesh and continuing to spasm as she peaked.
He gentled his movements then and continued until she softened around him. Then he allowed himself to find release.
“I remember when you could hold out until the eighth or ninth one,” he said against her hair, when he could breathe again.
“I do also,” she agreed. He lifted off her and she slid back. She was thoroughly taken and tousled. Her hair was a mess, her lips were swollen and her breasts exposed to him through the opening in her gown. The reddened marks would blossom by morning, reminding her of his attentions.
“You look . . . well pleasured.” He knelt and leaned over, kissing her gently. “Are you well pleasured?”
“Aye, truly,” she whispered back.
“Ran . . .” he began.
He wanted to tell her he’d loved no one else but her. That he taken no one else to his bed since she left it. And none before. But that would mean exposing her father’s sins at a time when she most needed to believe him blameless. He could not do that to her, not even to make his path with her easier.
“Nay, Soren,” she said, slipping from his grasp and standing. “I do not wish to hear about the past. We have now, this day, and we know not how many more. If we are successful, if we survive this ungodly challenge, then we can speak of the past.”
