It was the same soft mouth, the same spicy taste, the same deft tongue kissing her, but this kiss came with a no-holds-barred intensity that was both utterly dominating and oddly freeing at the same time. He made her feel safe. Protected.Loved.
He was on her, in her, surrounding her. His heat enveloped, the granite solidness of his body pressed, his kiss possessed, but never did he take. Rather he gave himself in a way that she suspected he’d never given himself to a woman before. And she took him in with everything she had, opening herself up to him, his kiss, his touch, and the powerful sensations he was stirring inside her.
Instinctively, her fingers curled tighter around his manhood. The husky, deep groan of his pleasure seemed to shudder through her as well. Holding her hand to him with his, he forced her to grip him harder, and then thrust up into the circle of her hand. Once. Twice. The bottom of her stomach seemed to melt between her legs as he thrust again, the raw, ragged sound of his pleasure echoing in her ears.
With a curse that told her he’d had all the pleasure he could stand, he drew her hand away and lowered her back onto the bed.
He came over her, pressing her more deeply into the mattress, his powerful body hard and unyielding on top of her. A warrior’s body with the thick, solid muscle that she’d come to crave. Desperately. Frantically. Her hands clutched his shoulders, gripped the rocky muscles of his arms and slid over the hard slabs of muscle at his back forged by years of using a bow, but still it wasn’t enough. She had to be closer, which seemed an impossible quest as their bodies were already fused together.
The same hardness she’d been holding in her hands was between her legs now, and she lifted her hips against him, needing him closer to the part of her that fluttered wildly with need.
The kiss spun out of control, growing hotter… deeper… wetter. The determined, demanding strokes becoming less precise and more wild. His hands moved over her body, hot and possessive, claiming her with every touch and caress.
He cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb over the tip until it was taut with need. She wanted to cry out when he broke the kiss—perhaps she even did—but the disappointment lasted only long enough for him to lower his head.
Oh God, his mouth!His hot, wet, wonderful mouth was on her breast. Pleasure shot through her in a bolt of pure molten fire when his lips covered the throbbing nipple. Even through the thin layer of linen of her chemise, the heat and dampness assailed her. Unconsciously, she arched into the gentle pull of his mouth, begging for more, a silent request he was only too eager to answer.
Somehow he’d managed to loosen the ties of her chemise. Barely was she aware of cool air on her fevered skin—her feveredbareskin—however, before he took her in his mouth, sucking and circling her with his tongue, until she cried out with pleasure so acute, her body seemed to shake with it.
“God, you are beautiful,” he murmured, his warm breath making her damp skin prickle. “So responsive.” He flicked her with his tongue, then tugged the turgid flesh gently between his teeth, until she moaned. “Do you like that?”
She might have glared at him, knowing he was teasing her. Of course she liked it. Shelovedit, and didn’t want him to stop.
But as their eyes met, she suddenly became aware of her naked flesh between them and flushed. It seemed such a small amount of naked flesh compared to what he was no doubt used to.
She must have given away her thoughts; his face darkened. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Cate. You are exquisite.” He covered her with his hand, and the look of rapture that came over his face as he groaned gave her no room to doubt him. “Perfect. So round and firm.” He squeezed gently. “With just enough to fill my hand. And nipples as rosy red and tight as pearls.” He smoothed the hard tip with his thumb. “I could look at you forever.”
Forever. Her heart squeezed with longing. It was just a turn of phrase, she told herself, but why when she looked into his eyes did it seem to mean something?
Gregor meant every word. When he looked at her like this—her dark hair spread out on the pillow behind her, her skin flushed, her eyes heavy, her mouth bruised from his kiss, the taut, round curve of creamy flesh bared to his gaze—it wasn’t just lust that came over him, although that was undeniably part of it. It was something far bigger and more powerful, a surge of emotion he’d never experienced before. It squeezed his heart, tightened his throat, and filled his chest with a heavy warmth. It was a feeling of utter rightness and happiness, which, given what he was doing, was ironic.
But he wasn’t going to think of that. He knewexactlywhat he was doing, and what it meant. He wasn’t going to second-guess his decision now. Although admittedly, it hadn’t been much of decision. It wasn’t the first time a woman had tried to change his mind by putting her hands on him. But it was the first time it had worked.
Christ, when Cate had slid her hand down his bare stomach, coming to rest inches from the throbbing head of his erection, he would have given her anything she wanted to make her go lower. The knowledge that her hand was so close to his cock had made him so hot he thought he was going to explode. He nearly did, when she finally put her hand where he wanted it.
It had been one of the most sensual, erotic moments of his life, and looking into her eyes, so wide, guileless, and full of her unabashed love for him, nothing had ever felt more right.
She belonged to him, and he would have her—whatever the cost, it would be worth it.
Just looking at her was worth it. She was so damned lovely it took his breath away. He wanted to get down on his knees and worship every inch of her—preferably with his mouth and tongue. And he would. Next time. But right now, just the sight of one small breast that fit snugly in the palm of his hand and the turgid pink nipple was too much for him to take.
Where the hell was all that experience he was famous for?
She was a virgin. And not that he didn’t appreciate that fact—he did—but making it good for her wasn’t going to be easy, especially when just kissing her turned him into some kind of clumsy, ham-fisted squire who had only one thought on his mind.
It was a good thought, though. Areallygood thought.
Slow down, damn it. Pull it together.
Taking her nipple in his mouth again, he plied it between his teeth, tugging gently, and sucking until she’d forgotten all about modesty and was writhing shamelessly—wantonly, God help him—underneath him. Just the way he liked it. Her body crying out for the pleasure he was about to give her.
She was so primed, so responsive, he knew he could make her shatter just by sucking and teasing her breasts, but he wanted to feel that first shudder of pleasure. He wanted to see her face as she broke apart under him.
Slipping his hand under the edge of her chemise, he slid the back of his finger up her thigh, edging closer to the sweet cleft of her womanhood.
She didn’t seem to notice until his hand had slipped between her legs, and then she stiffened for a moment. But only a moment. The second his finger brushed the silken folds, she shuddered and moaned.
Wet. So warm and wet. He gritted his teeth against the violent surge of his own need pressing hard at the base of his spine.
