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“Yes,” he ground out before kissing her deeply.

He kissed her neck and nipped at her ear, sometimes whispering nonsense against her heated skin. His hips ground into her hand as she writhed against his, each of them finding the rhythm they needed. Then, all of her pleasure concentrated into one brilliant point and exploded. She had to let go of him just to cling to his shoulders while he kept pulling every last bit of pleasure out of her.

When he drew his hand away, she whimpered. He pulled her into a kiss—a slow, sweet one—but she wasn’t ready to bank this fire yet. She didn’t want this to stop.

Her hand snaked down between them again, but before she could encircle his cock he took his erection in his own hand and guided it to her slit. Their foreheads touched, eyes locked in passion, and he pushed into her.

Ina’s mouth opened but she could find no words. He’d felt good stretching her when they’d laid on his bed, but this was different. More. Better. It was as though the world had fallen away and all she could feel was the intensity of this moment.

“Are you—?”

“No,” she managed. “God, Gavin.”

He grunted, his fingers digging into her hips to help her raise up and back down again. He sank in deeper, and she spread her legs wider to take even more of him.

Again. The slide of his cock against her made the muscles of her thighs shake.

Again. The sensation of fullness gripped her.

He set the rhythm, for although she might be on top, he was completely in control and focused. On her. Over and over he drove into her, pushing them both higher. The pulse of her first orgasm intensified from the delicious throb to an ache of clenching muscles.

“Please,” she whispered, her lips pressed against his neck.

One of his hands loosed on her hip, and he angled her back slightly so he could reach between them. He found her still-sensitive clit and began circling it in rhythm with their thrusts.

Ina came hard, her head cast back and her hips pulsing faster, trying to drive him into her harder. She cried out his name over and over as she shattered above him.

Gavin’s breath quickened and his thrusts became shorter and faster, and then he grunted low and pulled her off of him in one smooth move, spilling himself onto her leg. Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Ina couldn’t be sure how long they stayed like that. Gradually she became aware of the rise and fall of his chest and the coolness in the air. The fire must have begun to burn out while they weren’t looking.

When she started to move off of his lap, he tightened his grip. “Not yet.”

She relaxed into the arms of her husband and tried her hardest not to worry about what would happen next.

Chapter Fourteen

GAVIN STARED DOWN at the floor of the abbey’s great hall, unable to help the slow grin that crossed his face.

When he’d proposed a night together, he’d known taking Ina to Daldour would be romantic. Rowing across the firth, slipping away to an abandoned ruin, sharing a picnic and wine—it all seemed perfect. He’d hoped that, if she was willing, he might even be able to steal one of the kisses he’d been holding himself back from taking, or even more. He just hadn’t expected it all to be quite like this.

Her appetite thrilled him even as it knocked him off of his feet. He’d loved her from afar for too long, idolizing her. For years, she’d been the passionate artist and untouchable friend. Tonight she’d been real and raw and human. Tonight he’d loved her as a man loves the woman who sees him at his very best and his very worst.

She stirred against him, stretching her beautiful body up over his and sliding her arms around his neck.

She smiled at him through the happy haze of sleep. “I think I drifted off.”

“You did,” he said.

He gently tugged at one of her hands and brought it up to press a kiss to her inside wrist. He burned for her, but he was far from ready to show her the intensity of his feelings for her. For now, they’d both have to be satisfied with sex punctuated with sweet gestures and reassurances and hope that some subconscious part of her would one day understand them.

She looked around the room, her eyes falling on the dying fire. “I could stir the embers.”

Delicately, he placed one finger to her jaw and turned her chin to him. “Don’t worry about the fire.”

“But you must be cold,” she protested.

Doubt flooded her expression. She was thinking far too much, her mind jumping forward to one hundred different scenarios as she tried to guess how he would act.