He thought for a moment. Until he’d moved over her and slid his hands between her legs. The first could be solved easily enough; the second, well, if he did his part, she would be begging for his touch.
He lay down in bed beside her and rolled her on top of him, excruciatingly aware of every inch of her incredible body plastered to him. Her long, slim legs were entwined with his, the curve of her hip nestled against his manhood, her lush, round breasts crushed against his chest, and the delicate pink tips poked him erotically. The sensation of this delectable woman poured over him was so extraordinary, and so unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, that Jamie wondered if he’d been hasty in his vow not to touch her.
He said a quick prayer for strength and tried not to think about it—which was easier said than done with her molded against him.
When he looked into her eyes, he could see her surprise—but not, he was relieved to see, fear.
“Um . . . are you sure it can be done . . .” She bit her lip. “Is this natural?”
God, yes.He tried not to groan, thinking just how natural this position could be. He didn’t want to think of his hands around her waist, her breasts bouncing against his hands as she moved up and down on his throbbing—
Hell.
Clearing the lustful images from his head, he answered, “There is more than one way to make love, Caitrina. And I promise to show you all of them.”
The shy blush that rose to her cheeks was one of the most sensual things he’d ever seen, for he could see the eager curiosity in her eyes.
He held his hands firmly at his side, resisting the urge to slide them along the smooth curve of her back and cup the lush swell of her buttocks.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what to do,” she said, clearly embarrassed.
“Whatever you will,” he replied. “I’m yours to command.”
She considered for a moment, and the naughty smile that played upon her lips sent a chill of foreboding straight through him. The feeling, so foreign, could only be described as alarm. He, a man who’d made hardened warriors turn and run on the battlefield, was scared of a wee lass.
What in Hades had he done?
She looked at his mouth, unconsciously sliding her tongue along her lower lip. Heat rushed over him. “You mean if I kiss you . . .” She lowered her mouth to his until only a hairbreadth separated them. The succulent honey of her breath made his mouth water. “You will not kiss me back?”
His body went rigid as she placed a tender kiss on his mouth. He had to grip the bedcoverings to fight the hard swell that rose inside him, demanding a response. He wanted to kiss her hard, to have his tongue deep in her mouth as he devoured her senseless.
“Not if you don’t want me to,” he said tightly.
He felt her relax, her body eased against him, melting. It was pure torture.
She kissed him again, sliding her tongue between the crease of his mouth. His chest pounded, his cock jerking hard against her.Where in the hell had she learned to do that?
If it was instinct, as he suspected, he was in trouble—deep trouble.
But he didn’t have time to contemplate the future because she kissed him again. Pressing her soft lips to his and sliding her tongue in his mouth in a slow, tender sigh.
Her soft hand held his cheek as she stroked him with her tongue as he’d so foolishly taught her. It was all he could do not to flip her over on her back and kiss her as deeply as she was begging for.
“Kiss me,” she murmured.
He groaned with relief, circling his tongue against hers, sparring, delving, tasting her every bit as deeply as she had him. She was so sweet and hot, he couldn’t get enough.
Blood was pounding through his body. His erection was so hard, he knew she must feel him. As if reading his thoughts, she moved her hips over him, wedging him firmly between her legs.
He couldn’t breathe.
Unaware of what she was doing to him, she broke the kiss and trailed her lips along his jaw and neck, singeing a path of fire on his skin. Her hands fanned over his chest and arms, exploring every ridge and bulge of muscle with almost childish delight, as if she were a bairn opening a gift at Yule.
His heart pounded, his cock pounded, every instinct clamored to touch her, but he held still under her innocent scrutiny.
He counted to ten in his head, doing anything to keep his mind from what she was doing to his body.
What had possessed him to do this? She lifted her chest off him a little to slide her hand between them, her hand skimming his stomach as her tongue slid along his neck. Every muscle in his body tensed. Her fingers trailed across the rigid bands of his stomach, and the feathery touch so achingly close was almost more than he could bear. He had to grit his teeth to prevent another groan.
