Not knowing where that strange thought came from, he frowned and replied, “I hardly think you are in the position to cry foul, my lady. I wasn’t the one who started it. First rule of combat is don’t start a war you can’t win.”
She huffed with obvious affront. “I had every intention of winning until you tricked me. Really, my lord, playing on my sympathy by pretending to be drowning? That is hardly the height of chivalry. What would your legions say?”
He gave her a devilish grin. “My legions would say I won.”
She tossed her head back and laughed, and he felt something hard squeezing his chest.So damned beautiful.
Perhaps the sudden coiled tension in his body alerted her. She stopped laughing and her eyes met his in… question? Longing? Desire?
Maybe all those things and more. But whatever it was, the mood went from playful to something else in an instant. Something hot and fiery and powerful enough to make him forget the cold and all the reasons why he shouldn’t touch her again.
Touching her, kissing her, seemed the most natural thing ever.
So he did. But the passion took him by surprise. It burst through him at contact and barreled forward with the force of a rock slung from a trebuchet—there was no stopping it. One minute he was kissing her, and the next his hands were all over her body, and he was out of control. Which didn’t make any sense, since he didn’tgetout of control. But he had become mad with pleasure, frenzied with lust, and ravenous with a hunger that would only be satisfied one way.
Izzie wasn’t cold anymore. How could she be when she had his heat to warm her? His mouth, his tongue, his hands. My lord his hands! They were incredible. Big, strong, and possessive, yet warm and surprisingly gentle, they were on her bottom, her hips, her breasts. She didn’t know a man’s touch could do this to her. Turn her into a tangled, coiled mass of desire and need.
When his hands cupped and squeezed her breasts, her back arched for more. More pressure, more friction, more of his thumb rubbing over the throbbing tip.
It felt so good. She had no idea her breasts were so sensitive.
She moaned her pleasure, and he broke the kiss with a curse. She missed the heat of his mouth and tongue instantly—desperately. But then it was replaced with an even hotter fire as his mouth slid down her throat, over the exposed part of her chest, and then—oh my lord in heaven—over her breast as he tugged the fabric down enough to free her nipple.
The heat of his mouth was wondrous. She gave a soft cry of pleasure and arched deeper against him. His tongue went to work, teasing her at first with gentle circles and flicks, and then when he had her squirming and moaning, increasing the friction by drawing her slowly between his teeth, and finally, when she didn’t think she could stand it anymore, sucking her deep into his mouth.
She cried out at the incredible sensations. At the needles of pleasure that pulled between her breasts and the intimate place between her legs that felt so restless and quivery. That seemed to crave friction. Instinctively, her hips started to move against the solid length of his manhood.
She must have been doing something right because he made a harsh sound and sucked her harder, increasing her frustration and turning her into a throbbing pool of need. When she finally felt something brush against that secret place, she was so poised on the edge, it took her a moment to realize it was his hand. No, his fingers. Caressing, teasing, and finally—oh God, yesthat—slipping inside her.
Her entire body shuddered. Shock and wonder collided in an explosion of new, intense sensations that flooded her with heat. Mirroring the rhythmic flicks of his tongue on her nipple, his finger stroked between her legs. Vaguely she realized that she should probably be embarrassed by the way he was touching her, but it simply felt too good. Her wantonness would mortify her later.
Whatever he was doing to her, she had no ability to resist. His reputation was well earned. He knew exactly what to do to bring her pleasure. Her body was like an instrument and he played it expertly, bringing her to a violent crescendo. He made the sensations build and build until they had nowhere to go.
Her body clenched, straining toward the final peak, and then finally soared into a realm of sensation that was indescribable. She felt transported—separated from her body as if she’d died for a moment—glimpsed heaven, and then came slowly back to earth in a shattering explosion of floating, spasming waves.
The waves had barely ebbed when he picked her up and carried her out of the water. A moment later, she was down on the grass and he was kissing her again. This time with a tenderness and a sweetness that made her heart break.
Nay, not break, she realized,open. She was falling hard and fast for Sir Thomas Randolph, and she feared there was nothing she could do to stop it.What’s not to love?She’d better figure out something quick.
There was nothing Randolph loved more than to bring a woman pleasure. He loved the euphoria that transformed their features into something almost heavenly, he loved the pink flush that rose to their cheeks, the way their lips parted, their eyes closed, and their heads fell back as their bodies gave over in that final surrender. It was a look he’d seen many, many times before, and it always brought him a deep sense of satisfaction.
But that was nothing compared to the fierce, primal feelings pounding through him now. He felt satisfaction, aye, but it was far deeper, far stronger, and far more primitive in its intensity than the vaguely detached feelings he’d experienced before. There was nothing detached about his feelings right now. He was experiencing every gasp, every clench, every spasm of pleasure right along with her. Her pleasure seemed integral—bound—to his own.
He didn’t understand it, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. It was different, and he rather liked the way things were. His relations with women had always been easy. Something he didn’t have to think about. They liked him and he liked them. Simple. But what he felt right now sure as hell wasn’t simple. It was powerful, demanding, and intense. It was hunger and desire to the extreme.
Her breasts hadn’t helped. Who the hell would have guessed she hid such perfection under all those modest gowns? They were spectacular. About the most spectacular he’d ever seen. The round shape, the more than a handful size, the creamy velvet of her porcelain skin, and the delicate shade of pink of those taut little nipples. He would dream about those nipples. How sweet they’d tasted, how they’d felt rolling under his tongue, how much he’d like to feel them raking against his chest as he moved in and out of her.
Aye, he’d like that a lot—especially the moving in and out part. He wanted to be inside her. Wanted it with a desperate ache that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. Which didn’t make sense. But he was beyond sense.
It was her response that undid him. The moans, the little arches of her back that begged for more. He knew he could make her shatter, and once that knowledge was lodged in his head he couldn’t let it go. He had to touch her. Had to stroke her. Had to feel her release as he brought her to completion.
He just hadn’t anticipated the effect it would have onhim.
His body was still hard as a rock, and lust pounded at the base of his spine, but his chest… his chest seemed to expand and fill with warmth and an overwhelming sense of pleasure. Not physical pleasure, but a deep, overwhelming sense of contentment—almost joy. The pain in his body—which hurt like hell—seemed secondary. He wanted to be inside her more than he’d ever wanted with any other woman, but he also wanted to snuggle her against his chest and hold her tight.
It was the damnedest thing, and he didn’t know what the hell to make of it.
Randolph wasn’t a man who was controlled by his lust, but when he carried her out of the water and caught a glimpse of the long, sleek limbs now visible beneath her sodden gown, he reconsidered. He might have forgotten every last ounce of his honor and taken her right there, if he hadn’t looked down at her face.
