Her breasts were as beautiful as ever. He covered them with his hands. She groaned as he finally put his mouth to her. No other woman tasted like her. What did the priests know about women, to preach that this was a sin?
“Aye, aye,” she said in harsh breaths as she tangled her fingers in his hair.
His shaft throbbed as he licked and sucked. Every sigh and groan told him she was closer. He wanted to hear her scream with pleasure, to know no other man could do this for her.
He stuck his finger in her as he worked the sensitive spot with his tongue. How he loved it when her breathing changed like this. He knew her, could read her body as if it were an extension of his own.
Her cries as she climaxed were the sweetest sound a man could hear.
“My knees are weak,” she said, her voice breathy, weak. “I will fall…”
“I’ve got you.”
He put an arm behind her knees and swung her up across his chest as he got to his feet. When she put limp arms around his neck, he gave her a deep kiss to remind her he was a long way from being finished.
She gave him a languid smile and raised an eyebrow. “You are not going to regret it this time, are you?”
He shook his head and carried her to the bed.
After the weeks of denial, his hunger was so great it made him shake. He made love to her as if it were the first time and might be the last. Their passion for each other was bottomless and heedless.
Afterward, he lay with her sprawled on top of him, with only one thought in his head:This is what I want.
Sheis what I want.
Why had he been fighting it? This was how it should be. Owen was right. If she was the woman he wanted—and she was—he should stay and conquer, not leave the field.
He ran his hand down her back and cupped her bottom. As she sighed and moved against him, he smiled to himself. The effort to win her would be a good deal more pleasant than trying to resist her had been. Aye, this would be no penance at all.
Linnet would find that he could be every bit as determined as she, once his mind was set. And it was set on her.
Pride is a terrible thing. He wanted to leave her sated. He wanted to make certain that the next time she wanted a man, she could think of no one but him. He wanted her to sit by her window and long for him, ache for him. To dream of him, despite herself. To know that no other would ever satisfy her completely.
He wanted her to suffer as he did.
Jamie lay propped up on one elbow, watching her.
Without opening her eyes, Linnet took a deep, satisfied breath and murmured, “I cannot lift my arms.”
She looked as though her body fit the mattress like warm wax on the candle holder.
When she cracked her eyes open, he could not help giving her a wide grin. Then he blew on the damp skin between her breasts, down the center of her chest.
“That feels… heavenly,” she said, closing her eyes again.
He blew again, making her sigh.
“If we are to have an affair again, as it appears we are,” he said, “this time, it will be on my terms.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Terms? You speak as if we were enemies settling a war between us.”
“You are always insightful. Now, do you want to know the terms?” She drew in a sharp breath as he paused to flick his tongue over her still-sensitive nipple. “Or shall we end it here?”
He could not be sure if that was a flash of hurt in her eyes or just surprise. Regardless, he was not making the mistake of showering her with romantic professions of love this time. Nay, he was a wiser man. And he was out to win.
“I cannot say,” she said, lifting an eyebrow, “until I know the terms you propose.”
“First rule: no other men during the course of our affair.”
