She obeyed because she trusted him implicitly.
“Two fingers now,” he ordered. “Stretch yourself and thrust those fingers in and out while you caress the other breast.”
She did, and the added pressure of touching her breast echoed the rhythm below. It should have shamed her to be openly touching herself, but she imagined that it was his hands upon her body. That it was his thick manhood invading her flesh, sinking against the wetness and withdrawing.
She was trembling now, her breathing quickened into short gasps. Something was happening to her, and she didn’t know what it was.
“Remove your fingers,” he ordered.
“I don’t want to,” she murmured, reveling in the sensation that was so close, the trembling feelings rising up within. “It feels so good.”
“Obey me.” He reached for her wrist and removed it, guiding it until the heel of her hand rested upon her mons. With his fingers, he guided hers to a small fold of flesh above her entrance. “Circle your finger over this,” he said. “Keep stroking yourself until you start to tremble. And imagine that it’s my tongue upon you.”
The words shattered her inhibitions, and she found herself experimenting with the pressure, learning how to touch and how to bring forth the deep arousal she’d conjured earlier. “Circle it gently,” he ordered, “and begin lifting your hips.”
The pleasure grew more intense, and she couldn’t stop the moan that broke forth when her flesh grew unbearably sensitive, rising against her own touch.
“Do men do that?” she whispered, arching when her body responded with more warmth. “Use their tongues upon a woman’s—”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“And do women taste a man’s flesh?” she inquired.
Styr was so quiet, she didn’t know if she’d offended him. “My wife never did,” he admitted at last.
“She never touched you?” The very idea seemed impossible. Even now, she wanted to explore his body with her hands, kissing him and finding out what brought him pleasure.
“I don’t want to talk about Elena,” he countered.
Caragh continued caressing herself and then she dared to whisper, “If I could touch you right now, I would curl my hand around your shaft. I would stroke you in the same way I moved my fingers inside me earlier. And I would imagine it was your body thrusting inside mine.”
He uttered words in the Norse language that she didn’t understand, but it sounded like a low curse before he groaned. “Touch yourself faster, Caragh.”
She obeyed, and it drew out the aching pleasure until she was starting to shake. The pressure was building inside, and she couldn’t stop her hitched breath or the keening cries as she came closer and closer to a peak of physical pleasure.
“Styr,” she begged, not knowing what it was she needed.
“Don’t stop,” he commanded. “Keep going.”
The needs were so strong, she deepened the pressure, crying out as her body tightened with a wave of heat so intense, she was hovering on the brink of collapse.
“I—I can’t.”
Styr let out a low curse, and without warning, his warm mouth closed over one nipple, and she lost control. The sensation of his tongue suckling her while her fingers moved upon her wetness was too much. She bucked her hips, gripping his head as a frenzied storm of shaking hot pleasure boiled through her body, making her so wet, she couldn’t stop herself from plunging two fingers inside. The rhythm of release shattered her apart, and she reached for him, closing her hand over his silken erection. He was hot and moist as her thumb brushed the tip of him. It took only a few strokes of her hand before he let out a harsh breath and spilled his own seed.
He murmured words in his own language, words that sounded like a blend of an apology and a curse.
“Put on your gown and leave this tent. Now,” he commanded.
“Are you certain—?”
“If you don’t go right now, I’m going to break every vow I ever made.”
With shaking hands, she pulled the gown over her nude body, her breasts sensitized against the fabric. Between her legs, she still longed for him, but she’d pushed him too far. For he’d nearly done what she’d wanted.
She left his tent, tiptoeing outside into the night. The coals of the fire glowed red, while flames licked the banked pile of wood.
His revelation, that Elena hadn’t liked to touch him, had revealed a side to their marriage she didn’t understand.
