She wanted this.She wanted him.He’d be a fool to turn her down.
“Please?”she added.
“If ye wish.”
He climbed up on the bed beside her.Then he rose on one elbow to study her exquisite form.Her beauty was astonishing.Why she’d been able to fool the monks into thinking she was a bearded old pilgrim, he couldn’t imagine.Every supple curve and pliant plane of her body was smooth and shapely, made to tempt a man.
“Ye know, lass, ye’re as temptin’ as Eve,” he told her.
Why that made her start, he didn’t know.But her eyes widened for a panicked instant before she gave him a shy smile and replied, “I doubt Eve had a ‘map’ on her chest.”
He doubted Eve had a navel either, but he wasn’t about to get into a theological discussion with the woman.He grinned down at her adorable three moles, touching each one in turn with a fingertip.
She reached up, threading her fingers through his wet hair and pulling him toward her.
He obliged her, pressing a tender kiss upon her lips.
Her return kiss was not so tender.She was a fiery lass.She flaunted her passion like a banner.But he had always respected a woman who knew her own desires, who didn’t play coy about them.
She feasted on his lips, as if he was her last meal.Her hot breath rasped across his cheek, and she made small moans of pleasure that summoned the ancient beast inside of him.
Continuing to kiss her, he rose above her on his elbows, cradling her head between his arms.Then, using one leg to nudge her thighs apart, he lowered himself until they were chest to chest, hip to hip, skin to skin.
She released a shaky sigh into his mouth.
He held his breath, wondering if he might spend himself before they even had the chance to couple.
Swiftly slipping his hand between them, he stroked her wet folds to smooth the passage.Then, positioning himself carefully, he eased forward bit by bit.
Impatient with his caution, she surged up beneath him, impaling herself.She gasped, and for an instant he wondered if he’d hurt her.
Then she began to move beneath him.Lunging up and falling back in an instinctive rhythm.Surrounding him in a warm, wet chrysalis that would soon change him from an engorged caterpillar into a glorious butterfly.
It had been months since Adam had swived a woman.He wouldn’t last long.But by her ragged breathing, neither would she.
Like a stream with banks swollen by a sudden summer storm, a flood of lust rushed through him that he could hardly contain.
Soon her breath caught, and she began to buck in the throes of climax, arching up as if lightning had struck her.He followed at her heels, and it took every ounce of effort to pull out of her to spill his seed harmlessly across her belly.
With a groan of satisfaction, he fell back, spent.For a while, the sawing of their mingled breath was the only sound in the chamber aside from the occasional pop of the fire.He reached out a hand to clasp hers, and it seemed they floated together on a cloud of contentment.
He could have stayed there forever.
Eventually he remembered courtesy.
Gently unclasping her hand, he murmured, “I’ll bring a wet cloth.”
“Mmm.”
When he returned to clean up the mess, she was asleep.
He smiled.Lying there, she looked fresh and young and innocent.Her dark hair spilled haplessly across the linens.Her cheeks were rosy as apples.Her lips were cherubic.Her faint sprinkle of freckles seemed like a dusting of happy stars.She was so perfect, she could have been a saint.
But he knew better now.
Despite appearances, Aillenn was full of life and fire and spirit.A woman of depth and passion.A woman who craved adventure.Who followed her instincts and her heart.
A woman as free and impulsive as he was.
