Read Online The Temperate Warrior by Renee Vincent - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Renee Vincent
Ads: Link
straight line of his lips and touched her fingertip to them, lightly tracing the contour of his mouth. The tension in his face subsided and a modest smile crept beneath her caress. “You still have not answered my question,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Holding her stare, he reached out and toyed with a strand of her hair. “Nothing troubles me save for the fact that your eyes are, in spite of my insistence, open. Need I remind you of the long journey we have ahead of us?”
She couldn’t help but protrude her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “A long journey means I will be forced to wait longer for…” Beneath the covering of the hide, she reached down and took hold of him through his breeches, grinning proudly at finding him partly erect.
Gustaf closed his eyes as if trying to ignore her advances. “Play not with fire, lest you be burned by a man who lacks temperance, incited by your careless seduction.”
“Careless, you say?” She challenged his warning, stroking him further.
“For someone who has managed to consider my men’s presence whenever I have come close to embracing her in the past, she has somehow forgotten about them when they are all but a hair’s breadth away.”
“They are asleep,” she dared, drawing out the last word with the tip of her tongue before her lips popped on the final syllable.
He snatched her by the wrist and pulled her closer, pressing his burgeoning shaft against her sex. “I doubt they are with your constant chattering.” In the instant she felt his arousal, he withdrew it, spinning her away. He caged her within his arms and crushed her back against his chest, securing her once again with the weight of his leg over hers. The heat of his mighty body seeped through her woolen kirtle to her spine. Her heart skipped with excitement, her blood thrumming through her veins.
She felt him fussing about briefly, his knuckles scraping between the tight space of her back and his waist. Without warning, his callused hand, impatient and savage, slipped beneath her tunic and ran the length of her thigh, pushing the fabric above her hips. His naked erection nudged between her cheeks, its velvety tip nestling at her entrance. Before she could gather why, he clamped one hand across her mouth and the other on the back of her knee, pushing her leg higher and spreading her.
He whispered a quick, crazed command in her ear. “Make not a sound.” In one swift thrust, he pierced her tender, swollen flesh, burying himself all the way inside her. Her sharp gasp fell short, deadened by the thick palm across her lips.
“I said not a sound.” He rammed into her again, the ache of her delicate flesh smarting under the force of his thrust, yet she obediently held it all in.
This was what she wanted: the warrior who was not so temperate when his desire to slake his needs overpowered his desire to be mild and affectionate. He may have cautioned her about the brutish beast lying beneath the surface, but it was that very part of him she longed to rouse. Every part of her quivered to feel it again. Her body craved to feel him move within her. The sensitive nub, hidden within her folds, throbbed to feel his magnificent touch.
As instructed, she kept silent, but ground into him, begging for more. Like a gifted prophet, he read her mind and released his grip on the back of her knee, snaking his hand between her thighs. With adept fingers, he drew light circles over her, teasing her, barely grazing the place that now pulsated with expectancy. She wanted to scream, arching to meet his touch. Just as he dragged a slow caress upon it, he thrust into her.
Both pain and pleasure shot through her. An uncontrollable whimper resounded in his palm before she realized what she’d done. She felt the pressure of his hand depress across her lips, emphasizing her mistake, and he drove into her once more. Again and again, he caressed her with the delicacy of butterfly wings, at the same time impaling her with
Holding her stare, he reached out and toyed with a strand of her hair. “Nothing troubles me save for the fact that your eyes are, in spite of my insistence, open. Need I remind you of the long journey we have ahead of us?”
She couldn’t help but protrude her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “A long journey means I will be forced to wait longer for…” Beneath the covering of the hide, she reached down and took hold of him through his breeches, grinning proudly at finding him partly erect.
Gustaf closed his eyes as if trying to ignore her advances. “Play not with fire, lest you be burned by a man who lacks temperance, incited by your careless seduction.”
“Careless, you say?” She challenged his warning, stroking him further.
“For someone who has managed to consider my men’s presence whenever I have come close to embracing her in the past, she has somehow forgotten about them when they are all but a hair’s breadth away.”
“They are asleep,” she dared, drawing out the last word with the tip of her tongue before her lips popped on the final syllable.
He snatched her by the wrist and pulled her closer, pressing his burgeoning shaft against her sex. “I doubt they are with your constant chattering.” In the instant she felt his arousal, he withdrew it, spinning her away. He caged her within his arms and crushed her back against his chest, securing her once again with the weight of his leg over hers. The heat of his mighty body seeped through her woolen kirtle to her spine. Her heart skipped with excitement, her blood thrumming through her veins.
She felt him fussing about briefly, his knuckles scraping between the tight space of her back and his waist. Without warning, his callused hand, impatient and savage, slipped beneath her tunic and ran the length of her thigh, pushing the fabric above her hips. His naked erection nudged between her cheeks, its velvety tip nestling at her entrance. Before she could gather why, he clamped one hand across her mouth and the other on the back of her knee, pushing her leg higher and spreading her.
He whispered a quick, crazed command in her ear. “Make not a sound.” In one swift thrust, he pierced her tender, swollen flesh, burying himself all the way inside her. Her sharp gasp fell short, deadened by the thick palm across her lips.
“I said not a sound.” He rammed into her again, the ache of her delicate flesh smarting under the force of his thrust, yet she obediently held it all in.
This was what she wanted: the warrior who was not so temperate when his desire to slake his needs overpowered his desire to be mild and affectionate. He may have cautioned her about the brutish beast lying beneath the surface, but it was that very part of him she longed to rouse. Every part of her quivered to feel it again. Her body craved to feel him move within her. The sensitive nub, hidden within her folds, throbbed to feel his magnificent touch.
As instructed, she kept silent, but ground into him, begging for more. Like a gifted prophet, he read her mind and released his grip on the back of her knee, snaking his hand between her thighs. With adept fingers, he drew light circles over her, teasing her, barely grazing the place that now pulsated with expectancy. She wanted to scream, arching to meet his touch. Just as he dragged a slow caress upon it, he thrust into her.
Both pain and pleasure shot through her. An uncontrollable whimper resounded in his palm before she realized what she’d done. She felt the pressure of his hand depress across her lips, emphasizing her mistake, and he drove into her once more. Again and again, he caressed her with the delicacy of butterfly wings, at the same time impaling her with
Similar Books
