Her hand dipped lower, to the waist of his breeches, and her palm accidentally brushed over the throbbing head of his erection. His buttocks clenched as he fought the urge to thrust.
He must have made a sound because she lifted her mouth from his neck. He could see the uncertainty in her gaze. “Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head and said tightly, “Only because I want you so much.”
She slid her eyes down to him, seeing how he strained against the leather of his breeches. If possible, it only made him harder. “Would it help if I touched you?”
“Yes,” he lied, even though he knew it would only make it infinitely worse. But what she offered him was so tantalizing, he could not speak the truth. Her tiny hand wrapped around him . . .
He shook off the thought and steeled himself for her touch.
“What do I do?”
“Undo the ties.” She did as he directed. He knew he
shouldn’t, but he had to watch her. Her eyes widened, seeing him in the flesh—all of him. He wondered if she would change her mind, but after a long pause she raised her eyes to his in question. “Circle me with your hand,” he said softly.
“I’ll try.”
He closed his eyes and groaned.Oh God, that felt good.Her hand was soft and cool, and he was so hot. He jerked a little in her hand as a drop of fluid escaped from his tip. Her grip around him was tentative, but sweet . . . achingly sweet.
Because he didn’t think he could speak, he covered her hand with his and showed her how to stroke him.
Flames roared in his ears as he gave himself over to the fire she wrought in his blood. Pleasure unlike anything he’d ever known rushed over him.
She stroked him faster, harder, until the pressure built to erupting, his body clenched, and he knew he was about to come.
He grabbed her wrist. “Stop,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’ll unman me.”
His heart pounded as he fought for control. She looked at him questioningly. “I’ve been too long without a woman,” he explained, though he knew it had nothing to do with that—he had always been a man of prodigious control even when it came to sex—but everything to do withthiswoman.
His explanation seemed to please her. She leaned down and kissed him again. “How long?” she murmured against his mouth.
He thought about it a minute and decided to tell her the truth. “Since I first saw you.”
Caitrina didn’t know why, but his declaration pleased her enormously. She wasn’t exactly sure what his need to stop had to do with other women, but it didn’t matter. He’d lain with no one else since he’d met her. It must mean something. Perhaps he did care for her.
She could tell from the strain in his body that what she’d done had pleased him. And pleasing him, she realized, had also pleased her.
She felt relaxed, confident, and most important, eager to continue.
She kissed him again, rubbing her body ever so gently against his. The places where they touched tingled with sensation. But it wasn’t enough; she craved the weight and pressure of his hands.
She kissed him harder, trying to convey her wishes with her mouth. She could feel the passion stirring inside him but knew that no matter how hard she drove him, he would hold to his vow.
She would have to tell him.
Her mouth moved across his jaw, rough with stubble, to his ear. “Touch me,” she whispered. “Please, touch me.”
“Where?” he asked.
The heavy brogue of his voice seemed as rich and dark as molten lava, sinking deep into her bones. No man should have a voice like that—one that could seduce with a word. “Everywhere,” she answered.
He moaned and cupped her breasts lovingly in his hands, pinching her nipples to taut peaks. “Like this, my sweet?”
She threw back her head, giving herself over to the exquisite sensations wrought by his powerful hands on her body. Hands that could wield a claymore with deadly strength but could stroke and caress with painstaking tenderness.
His mouth clasped over one nipple as he drew it deep in his mouth, tugging it between his teeth until her body—of its own accord—started to move against him. She felt his erection hot and throbbing against her belly. Like the rest of him, he was a big man. Though she’d felt him pressed against her body, she hadn’t quite realized just how big until she’d released him from the confines of his breeches. For a moment, all she could feel was shock and not a wee bit of trepidation—until she’d taken him in her hand. She remembered how he’d felt—like velvet over steel. But most of all, she remembered how it had felt to harness all that raw masculine strength in the palm of her tiny hand.Shehad the power to make him weak with pleasure, and the knowledge was both thrilling and emboldening, giving her confidence she would have thought impossible.
