How could this be? How could she want to be manhandled like this by Jasper Glendenning? Could you hate and want someone at the same time? She could not let him win. But for once in her life, Rowenna could not think. She could only feel.
Jasper suddenly spun her around and hoisted her onto the bed on her back. The blankets were cold, and her legs hung over the side. He quickly shed his fine kilt and began to take his shirt off over his head. Rowenna looked away from him. Then he was on her, heavy and horribly naked. There was too much skin, too much man. Rowenna caught a glimpse of golden chest hair, a flat stomach taut with muscle and a thatch of darker hair further down. She quickly looked up at his face. Jasper’s eyes held a raw determination as he took hold of her leg and slid it over his back.
‘Can we not get under the linens?’ she squeaked.
‘No. I want to see you.’ His voice was all authority now, no longer coaxing and gentle. There was something of the beast in him. Rowenna trembled as he slowly pulled her shift down off her shoulders.
‘By all that is holy, you are so beautiful, lass.’ Jasper trailed his fingers from her throat down to her breasts. His hands were rough, but his caresses were careful and almost tender. When he bent his mouth to her nipples, they felt raw with pleasure, sending an ache to her loins.
He was taking his time to arouse her, but Rowenna wished he would not, for that would be the ultimate surrender for her and a victory for him. His tongue flicked inside her mouth, as hot as a forge, bringing a sinful tickle of desire. Why could he not be the brute she first thought him – rough and cruel? It would be so much easier than this shameful throb, this need for him to go further.
Rowenna shut her eyes and tried to ignore the desire burning between her legs. When Jasper stroked his fingers in her most intimate place, she flinched and had to fight the urge to push against his hand.
‘Jasper, please,’ she gasped, reaching out a hand to clutch the blankets and finding the handle of the dirk under the pillow. It brought her to her senses.
‘Stop,’ she cried.
‘I don’t think you want me to stop, do you?’ he panted into her ear, but his fingers stopped moving.
In answer, Rowenna slipped the dirk out from under the pillow and held it to Jasper’s throat. The tip pricked his skin, and he froze, leaving his hand in place.
‘I will do it. I swear. What have I got to lose? One thrust and it will all be over.’
‘I know, and if you let me get on with it, then it will be,’ he said, smiling down at her with no fear, mocking her. There was triumph in his eyes.
‘You will not master me, Jasper.’
‘I think it is the other way around, Rowenna. And is your virginity worth my life? Why kill a man who burns for you? ‘Tis no terrible thing to lie with me, you know. Let me show you.’His fingers moved against again, her sending hot throbs of lust through her belly.
‘No.’
‘Stop and think, lass. If you kill me, my men will ride to Fallstairs and burn it to the ground, along with everyone in it. I mean to have you this night, so do your worst, Rowenna, if you hate me that much. I don’t doubt you have the courage.’
He pushed down against the blade. A tiny bead of blood swelled from his skin like a tick, burst, and ran down his neck. ‘You lit a fire in my belly, lass. I can no more stop than you can.’ His voice was hoarse with desire as he kept on touching her. Having her was nothing to him. It was everything to her – pride, freedom, honour.
‘I don’t want you, Jasper,’ she said weakly.
‘Are you sure?’ he murmured. ‘One little sting for each of us, and we will be joined. Then you will be safe from all those old lechers and dull men, and no one can touch you but me.’
Jasper pressed against the blade, never taking his eyes off her, and there was such longing in his gaze that her resolve faded away, and Rowenna softened her grip and let his mouth reach hers. His hand closed around hers and gently pulled the knife away from his throat. Suddenly, as he deepened his kiss, the strength seeped from her fingers, and the dirk clattered to the floor.
Jasper slid his fingers into her hair. ‘Trust me, Rowenna,’ he said, pulling up her shift and sliding his hand along her thigh. A hot, boneless surge of pleasure swept from Rowenna’s heart to her groin. Her throat tightened, and blood rushed to her face, setting it aflame. She was slick down there and so ashamed. There was nothing to do but surrender.
‘Ah, lass, you are more than ready,’ he said. As his fingers slid inside her a little, Rowenna squeezed her eyes shut.
‘Look at me,’ he commanded, and she opened her eyes. Jasper held her gaze as he invaded her gently, stroking her as he did so with his thumb. ‘Have you never had a man?’ he said.
‘No,’ she whispered, barely able to breathe.
‘It wouldn’t matter to me if you had. I’d not judge you for it.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Though I might have to find him and kill him.’
In all her life, Rowenna had never felt so helpless. And it was not because he was heavy and huge on top of her or because he held threats over her head. It was because she was a slave to the passion Jasper had aroused. She wanted more. She wanted him to keep touching her in this gentle, insistent way – coaxing and yet commanding.
He took Rowenna’s hand and edged it downwards to his groin, smiling into her eyes. ‘Hold onto this instead of your dirk, lass. It’s not as dangerous.’ He had a pleasing face when he smiled, warm and handsome. He wrapped her fingers about his manhood and let out a sigh of such yearning that it was an admission of weakness. The thing was velvety, heavy, and solid as an oak. It seemed to grow under Rowenna’s touch as if it had a life of its own, separate from Jasper. She dare not look at it and jerked her hand away.
‘Rowenna, it makes me hard just looking at you. Do not fear this. Let go,’ he crooned. ‘If you want me to stop, I will. If it hurts too much, then tell me.
She hated Jasper Glendenning. Rowenna closed her eyes tight as he leaned into her neck, muffling a moan of what must be pleasure into her hair. She hated him as he spread her legs openwith his knee, still touching her, making her ache with feeling. She hated him as he placed his manhood against her most secret place and took her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. When he slid inside her, filling her, Rowenna gasped from the shock of it and held onto his back, digging in her fingers. Jasper made a strange, guttural sound, but it washed over her as all she could feel was him inside her – a stinging, yet somehow gentle invasion, a blade of pleasure that cauterised as it moved.
