He licked and sucked before grazing each nipple with his teeth. Again and again, until she was panting, writhing against him. Tangling her fingers in Craeg’s hair, she held him against her.
Aye. More.
She was making noise now. Soft mewing,lustysounds.
And then something cold nudged against her hip, breaking the spell.
Opening her eyes, Hazel looked down into worried brown eyes. Faolan had roused himself from before the fire and padded over. The sounds she’d been making had concerned him.
“Don’t fash yerself, lad,” she said, untangling her fingers from Craeg’s hair and stroking the hound’s head. “He’s not harming me.”
Craeg muttered something under his breath and stepped back. “Aye, well … I’m not going any further with Faolan judging me,” he said, his lips quirking in that boyish way of his that made her chest tighten.
With that, he took hold of her hand, drew her away from the wall, and led her toward the door to their left—not the one that led out onto the landing, but to his private bedchamber.
Hazel’s pulse fluttered as she followed him.
She’d launched herself from shore and was now swimming in open seas. It wasn’t too late to turn and claw her way back to land.
Craeg would respect her wishes. She knew that.
But she didn’t want to climb back to safety.
No, she didn’t slow her pace, didn’t protest as he pushed open the door and drew her into his bedchamber after him.
The door thudded shut behind them, leaving Faolan in the solar.
She was briefly aware of the grand bedchamber with its deerskin rug by the hearth, a carven wooden chest against one wall, and the massive canopied bed draped in sheepskins—alaird’sbed. But she couldn’t concentrate on anything but Craeg.
She threw herself at him. Mouth greedy. Hands feverish. He hauled her hard against him, his hand cupping the back of her head as he took control of the kiss.
And then he was pulling her toward the bed.
The bed ropes creaked beneath the straw-stuffed mattress, and they fell onto it.
On her back, with Craeg’s weight pressing onto her, she feltallof him, including his rock-hard shaft that burned between them.
Desperate now, Hazel lifted her hips off the mattress and ground herself against him.
Craeg groaned low in his throat, the sensual sound rumbling between them. “Hades,” he whispered as he braced himself on his arms and started to kiss his way down her throat once more. “Are ye trying to kill me?”
A soft laugh escaped her, even as excitement clenched in her belly. “No … but ye are intent on torturingme.”
He looked up, and their gazes met. A slow smile then tugged at his lips. His warm brown eyes were hooded now, and the look on his face made her breathing catch. “I haven’t even started yet,” he murmured.
Hazel’s pulse kicked into a gallop.
Craeg didn’t explain himself. He merely slid down her body with a slowness that made her want to scream, kissing, nipping, licking as he went. Tasting. Her breasts had never felt so full, so tight. Her nipples throbbed as he drew each one into his mouth and sucked.
But then he released her breasts, sliding down further, his tongue swirling into the indentation of her navel before he reached her loins.
There, he gently spread her wide and then sat back on his heel to admire her.
By the Saints. The look on his face. Even under his deep tan, she marked the flush upon his cheekbones. His eyes glittered as he gazed down at what lay between her thighs, his lips parting. His chest rose and fell sharply.
He seemed … entranced.
Hazel’s own breathing hitched, excitement pulsing in her womb. If he didn’t start touching her soon, she’d crawl out of her skin.
