“How is that meaningful?”
He pressed a hot kiss to her lips. “The first time for a maiden can be uncomfortable.”
Caitrina considered that carefully. “So, you are already ceding defeat? Admitting that you cannot make me swoon? How disappointing.”
He pulled back, staring at her with narrowed eyes. “Do you goad me apurpose?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
He shook his head, then, with a low growl, swooped in to bite her earlobe. A shiver of visceral excitement rippled through her. Incredible. If this was what it was like to be eaten, nothing would please her more than if he consumed her, bite for bite, from head to toe.
She tilted her head back to encourage him to sample further, but Bran’s attention slipped lower. He parted the lacing at the neckline of her nightclothes, exposing her collarbone and the tops of her breasts to his view. Her breasts seemed to know more about what to expect than she—even before he touched the soft mounds, they grew heavy and full, the nipples budding.
Caitrina moaned in wordless entreaty.
She did not know what she was demanding until he gave it to her—until his hands cupped and gently squeezed. And then her moan became a mewl of desperate desire. She wanted—nay, needed—his mouth upon her breast. She buried her hands in his thick hair and prayed that he would intuit her salacious longing.
And he did. With surprising accuracy, his lips found her left nipple through the loose linen night rail. Her fingers clenched as the warm wetness of his mouth settled over her breast, delivering a torrid wave of pleasure that rolled right to her toes. But not nearly as hard as they clenched when he sucked. And flicked his tongue over the nub.
Caitrina squealed.
Bran immediately released her breast and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Lass,” he said quietly, “as much as I enjoy hearing your sweet responses to my kisses, I’ll no allow this night to cause you harm. If you’re discovered in my room, there’ll be no end to the grief, you ken?”
She blushed. “Aye.”
“If you feel the need to scream, just bite my shoulder.”
“You’re mad!”
He winked. “Aye, a wee bit. But I suspect you knew that already.”
No longer embarrassed, Caitrina relaxed against the covers. “Is biting acceptable play between the sheets?”
“Anything is acceptable, as long as you enjoy it.”
“The church would disagree,” she said dryly. “I’ve heard many a sermon denouncing unclean acts, even between a man and wife.”
He shrugged. “A priest should not dictate what can and cannot be done behind the bed curtains. Only my lover can make that decision.”
“And how is your lover to determine what is right and what is wrong?”
He gave her another quick kiss on the lips and then rolled to one side. His hand trailed up and down her body, his touch featherlight and teasing. “It’s simple. Anything that makes you feel uncomfortable is wrong. Anything that excites you is right.”
Goose bumps rose on her flesh in the wake of his touch.
“Are not the symptoms of fear similar to those of excitement?” she asked.
His hand halted above the crux of her legs. “The truest test is right here,” he said. “That which excites you prepares you for the final act.” He took her hand and cupped it over her mons. “You’ll always know best if you are ready to proceed. Never let a man decide that for you, priest or no.”
With his hand over hers, he rocked her flesh.
Tiny waves of sweet pleasure crested over her and Caitrina’s eyes closed of their own volition. Her hips lifted into his hand, eager for a deeper, more satisfying rhythm. She was undeniably hot and wet and excited. But Bran seemed determine to torture her. His mouth found her other breast and even as she rocked against his hand, he suckled, driving her to the very edge of reason.
Only when she was keening softly into his pillow and her hands were fisting in the sheets did he slip the night rail from her body and lie alongside her, naked. He rained kisses all over her hot skin, and Caitrina traded her hold on the sheets for roughly admiring caresses up and down his shoulders. She wanted him closer. Deeper. She wanted to be a part of him.
His hand reached between her legs, testing her readiness, and he grunted when his fingers met obvious wetness.
“I’m ready,” she told him huskily, opening her knees wide. “Take me.”
