“There is no man but me, Bethie. There never was.”
Then slowly, so slowly that it made her whimper in anguish, he slid his finger deep inside her slick and aching core.
The sweet shock of it sent her spiraling over the edge. Pleasure buffeted her, wave upon fiery wave, tore a cry from her throat, as he prolonged her climax with deft, penetrating strokes.
For a moment she lay still in the water, floating, stunned that an act that had once brought her so much pain and suffering could be so pleasurable. And a tremor of anticipation shot through her as she wondered what it would be like to have his thick, hard shaft inside her.
Then she opened her eyes, looked up into a gaze that burned with need. She couldn’t help but smile, thinking of all the ways she would torment him. “Time foryourbath.”
Bethie lingered over him, knowing it would drive both of them to a frenzy of desire. She washed his long hair, rinsed the day’s dirt and sweat from his shoulders, arms, and chest, secretly savoring the feel of him beneath her hands—the roughness of his body hair, the hardness of his muscles, the softness of his skin.
He smiled, a sensual twist of his lips that made her heart beat faster. “Dinnae be thinkin’ you can fool me, lass. I know what you’re doin’. You’re tryin’ to tease me, to drive me mad.”
His attempt at Scottish brogue made her laugh. She did her best to mock his English. “You, sir, are mine to do with as I please.”
Then she reached beneath the water, took his erection in her hand, and began to stroke its length, taking extra time to tease the satiny tip.
His laughter became a quick intake of breath, and his hands slowly clenched around the sides of the tub, as she built the rhythm, stroke upon slow stroke. But just as she felt him nearing his peak, she stopped, went to wash his feet.
“Wench!” He groaned, kicked water at her.
She shrieked, chided him. “It serves you right for makin’ a lady wait.”
He grabbed the soap from her hands and in a blink had scrubbed and rinsed his legs. Then he dropped the soap, stood, stepped out of the tub. “The lady need wait no longer.”
Water ran in glistening rivulets over his sun-browned skin to the floorboards. His hair clung in dark, wet ropes to his chest and shoulders. His shaft stood, thick and heavy, against his belly.
There was no more teasing, no more games.
He pulled her against him, his fingers buried in her wet hair, his lips hot on her mouth.
Then he carried her two short steps to the bed, laid her on the soft linen, stretched out above her. They rolled and twisted in a tangle of limbs, locked in a heated kiss, desperate for the taste of each other, the feel of each other.
Bethie broke the kiss, reached down, took his length in her hand, stroked him. “I want you inside me.”
Nicholas thought his heart might actually break through his chest. He took a deep breath, fought to rein himself in. Those were words he’d never expected to hear. “Bethie, I don’t think—”
“Please.”
The look of innocent trust in her eyes made something twist in his stomach. After all she’d been through, that she should trusthim... “As you wish—but not like this.”
He rolled onto his back, settled her astride him, reached down, held himself so that the head of his cock met her heated core. “It’s up to you now.”
She looked surprised at first, then she smiled, bit her lower lip—and lowered herself so that the head of his shaft nudged inside her. She gasped, a soft, sweet sound, then lifted her hips, withdrew from him, before lowering herself upon him, taking a bit more of him this time.
Months of suppressed need, of wanting her, of wanting to be inside her, had left him on the brink, and Nicholas began to wonder if he would survive the night. As she gradually took more and more of him into her slick heat, he fought the urge to thrust, forced himself to hold his hips still, to let her determine the pace.
He reached up, stroked the beaded velvet of her nipples with his thumbs, tried to make his muscles relax as inch by torturous inch she took him inside her. When he thought he could take no more, she lifted her hips once more, then slid down the length of him, taking all of him.
“Oh, Nicholas, it feels... so... good!” Her eyes were closed, a look of bliss on her sweet face, her hair a damp, tangled mass that hung to her hips. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
“I’ve wanted you for so long!” He clasped her hips, moved in slow circles beneath her, fighting to hold on as her tight sheath caressed him, carried him toward the edge. “No man but me, Bethie!”
Bethie heard the strain in his voice, heard her own whimpered reply. Never had she felt anything like this. It was erotic beyond imagination, being joined to this big man, his body inside hers, a part of hers. He stretched her, filled every inch of her, made her complete. Each thrust felt better than the one before, made her desperate for the next, as she moved with him, rode the fire.
How had she lived without this? How had she lived without him?
She heard her own keening cries, called his name as the pleasure built inside her. “Oh, oh, Nicholas!”
