trailed a path of open kisses down her chest. He savored her salty flesh. He caught her nipple in his mouth. He suckled. The weave of the linen scraped against her soft flesh.
“Lachlan,” she stammered. She arched her back, drawing her sweet apex deeper into his hot mouth. She clutched handfuls of his hair, not letting him go.
“There is more…so much more.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I may melt before then.”
“I won’t let you.” He hooked his finger on the ties at her neckline and drew down the last obstacle. He kicked it aside. The dying light danced about her diaphanous flesh. Lachlan sprawled his hand on her stomach. His fingertips brushed the tender flesh under her breast.
“When I first saw you, all I could do was stare. You enthralled me.” He ran his touch upward to cup her breast. He brushed his thumb over the tip.
She covered his hold. “You made my heart race. I thought I was scared of you, but I only wanted to be with you. I still do.” She pulled off his plaid, and then ripped his leine over his head.
Buried beneath the turmoil of sensations, he knew she had to be with Eacharn. But she loved him…this bastard-born. He was being selfish wanting her for himself. To hell with all he risked.
“Now we’re both naked.”
“Good.” She took his hand and led him to the one place he wanted to spend this night. She intertwined their fingers and perched on the bed. She started to lean back.
“Not yet.” He picked up the bunched end of her braid. He untied the flimsy swathe of fabric and freed her hair. He combed out the strands about her shoulders. The fine locks fell about her like a gossamer veil. Her right nipple peeked out. “You look rumpled, but not yet sated.”
Rowen slid her hands around his waist. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. He took control of the kiss to a languid tempo, hitching his need and hers. He rested in the cradle of her legs. He cupped her womanhood.
“You’re wet.”
“And you’re hard.” She curled her hand around the tip.
He gripped the linens. His head fell forward as he lost himself in her soft stroke, running up and down. His blood rushed to the very tip. “Keep doing that”—he gulped—“I won’t be hard for long.”
He grasped her beneath her knees and tossed her on her back. Keeping her legs spread, he bent his head. He felt her heat before he sampled the sweet dew drenching her. He lapped once, and then again. Her moan urged him on. He found her nub and suckled. Beneath his tongue, he felt her tighten. Her legs fell apart. She squirmed against his mouth. The nub pulsated. She buried her face in the linens and burst apart in his mouth.
Lachlan lifted his head. Over the mound of her golden curls, he watched little tremors rack her. Her breast shook as the tremors still racked her. He licked his lips and flooded his mouth with her dulcet flavor. He replaced his mouth with his hand. He slipped in one finger. She was so tight. Untouched. A maiden. His.
He dipped in another one. He stretched her. Her wetness drenched him. She watched him through her heavy-lidded eyes. She shook under his touch. Lachlan was so hard. He might explode before he was tucked in her walls.
Not able to withhold himself away any longer, he climbed atop her. He rested his right hand by her head. “Touch me.” She rested her hands on his waist. For now, that was enough for him. He inched forward. The veil of her womanhood halted him. He gritted his teeth and plunged within her.
Rowen hissed and pushed at him even as she contracted around him. He started to shake and sent a thank you as the pain faded away. “Look at me, Rowen.”
He waited, ignoring the strain of his body. He clenched his jaw. Between the heat of her body and his own, a sweat broke out across his forehead. Her eyes opened. He slipped out, and then back. His eyes closed, wanting to lose himself in the supple feel of her. He felt her desire more than saw it. She arched against him. Passion
“Lachlan,” she stammered. She arched her back, drawing her sweet apex deeper into his hot mouth. She clutched handfuls of his hair, not letting him go.
“There is more…so much more.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I may melt before then.”
“I won’t let you.” He hooked his finger on the ties at her neckline and drew down the last obstacle. He kicked it aside. The dying light danced about her diaphanous flesh. Lachlan sprawled his hand on her stomach. His fingertips brushed the tender flesh under her breast.
“When I first saw you, all I could do was stare. You enthralled me.” He ran his touch upward to cup her breast. He brushed his thumb over the tip.
She covered his hold. “You made my heart race. I thought I was scared of you, but I only wanted to be with you. I still do.” She pulled off his plaid, and then ripped his leine over his head.
Buried beneath the turmoil of sensations, he knew she had to be with Eacharn. But she loved him…this bastard-born. He was being selfish wanting her for himself. To hell with all he risked.
“Now we’re both naked.”
“Good.” She took his hand and led him to the one place he wanted to spend this night. She intertwined their fingers and perched on the bed. She started to lean back.
“Not yet.” He picked up the bunched end of her braid. He untied the flimsy swathe of fabric and freed her hair. He combed out the strands about her shoulders. The fine locks fell about her like a gossamer veil. Her right nipple peeked out. “You look rumpled, but not yet sated.”
Rowen slid her hands around his waist. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. He took control of the kiss to a languid tempo, hitching his need and hers. He rested in the cradle of her legs. He cupped her womanhood.
“You’re wet.”
“And you’re hard.” She curled her hand around the tip.
He gripped the linens. His head fell forward as he lost himself in her soft stroke, running up and down. His blood rushed to the very tip. “Keep doing that”—he gulped—“I won’t be hard for long.”
He grasped her beneath her knees and tossed her on her back. Keeping her legs spread, he bent his head. He felt her heat before he sampled the sweet dew drenching her. He lapped once, and then again. Her moan urged him on. He found her nub and suckled. Beneath his tongue, he felt her tighten. Her legs fell apart. She squirmed against his mouth. The nub pulsated. She buried her face in the linens and burst apart in his mouth.
Lachlan lifted his head. Over the mound of her golden curls, he watched little tremors rack her. Her breast shook as the tremors still racked her. He licked his lips and flooded his mouth with her dulcet flavor. He replaced his mouth with his hand. He slipped in one finger. She was so tight. Untouched. A maiden. His.
He dipped in another one. He stretched her. Her wetness drenched him. She watched him through her heavy-lidded eyes. She shook under his touch. Lachlan was so hard. He might explode before he was tucked in her walls.
Not able to withhold himself away any longer, he climbed atop her. He rested his right hand by her head. “Touch me.” She rested her hands on his waist. For now, that was enough for him. He inched forward. The veil of her womanhood halted him. He gritted his teeth and plunged within her.
Rowen hissed and pushed at him even as she contracted around him. He started to shake and sent a thank you as the pain faded away. “Look at me, Rowen.”
He waited, ignoring the strain of his body. He clenched his jaw. Between the heat of her body and his own, a sweat broke out across his forehead. Her eyes opened. He slipped out, and then back. His eyes closed, wanting to lose himself in the supple feel of her. He felt her desire more than saw it. She arched against him. Passion
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