Page 59 of Seductive Scot
She was astonished at his words. “Ye will do this for me because ye know I want this?”
“Yes,” he said, brushing her hair back from her face and then kissing her neck, which made her shiver. Then he nipped at her earlobe, making her belly clench.
She brought her hands to his back, marveling at the strength she felt under her fingertips and that he was willing to do something he didn’t wish to simply because he wanted to please her. She swallowed a swell of emotion, a need to tell him how touched she was, how he had just given her a great gift. She feared it would drive him away from her, not toward her.
Her heart thudded in her ears as his hands came to her cheeks. He stared deep into her eyes and brushed his lips to hers. She trembled with the tenderness of his kiss. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. She could feel his uneven breathing on her skin as he held her close. “You make me ache,” he added, his voice low and throbbing as his hands explored the hollows of her back.
“I ache, too,” she replied, his touch sending a shower of warm shivers through her.
Something intense flared in his eyes, making her heart jolt, while outside, the noise of the crowd grew. She shrank from the thought that they were out there waiting. His hands tightened gently on her face. “In here,” he said, “it’s just you and me. Shut out the world with me. Forget everyone else but us for now.”
Her mind was aware that he was only referring to the crowd in the corridor, but her heart wanted to believe he was referring to everyone, even the ghost that still held him captive. She had a burning desire to make him forget he didn’t want to give his heart to her, if just for the time they were in each other’s arms. “I want that,” she whispered. “For it to be just the two of us.”
His mouth crushed against hers, startling for a moment in the sheer intensity of the passion she felt in him, but her body responded immediately. As his hands raced over her back to her hips, she moved hers to his arms, curling her fingers around the swell of muscle. He kissed her until she was dizzy with need, and then his mouth left hers to pepper kisses down her neck to her chest, like the kiss they had shared before they were wed. But this time, he tugged on her gown as he kissed the top of one breast and then the other, and before she knew it, he was raising her hands and sliding her gown up over her head.
Despite it being winter, the fire crackling in the hearth warmed the bedchamber air and his gaze, burning with need for her, heated her to her core. She whimpered as he slowly traced a finger over one breast, pausing at her hard bud to circle his fingers over the aching skin. Deep between her thighs, her innards clenched hard, and a shaft of pleasure unlike any she’d ever known shot from her core through her entire body.
He smiled, his pleasure unmistakable. “You’re very passionate.”
“Am I?” she panted. The way his fingers were circling the tips of both her breasts now made her want to scream in both pleasure and pain. It was a sweet pain, though, yet one she did not think she could stand for very long.
The faster his fingers worked over the material of her léine, the more pressure she felt within her. “Reikart,” she moaned. “Please, I need, I need—”
“This,” he said, slipping her léine off her shoulders and letting it fall to a puddle at her feet. His hand slid down over her belly, making her tremble as he went. Down his fingers delved until they came to the juncture between her thighs and touched her in a place that made her scream. He captured the sound with his mouth, hot and ravishing, on hers. It was a good thing he knew what was to come because she certainly didn’t.
His drugging kisses swirled her senses, and his fingers massaged the spot he’d first touched until she was quivering everywhere and feeling as if she were going to come apart with desire. For what, she didn’t know, but she knew only he could calm the storm he’d started.
He surprised her by breaking their kiss, swooping her off her feet, and then stalking to the bed with her in his arms. He laid her on the coverlet and stood above her, his eyes drinking her in and making her suddenly aware that she was completely naked.
“Will you trust me?” he said, as he took off his tunic and plaid, and stood only in his braies.
God above, he was beautiful. She knew well that men were not supposed to be described in such a way, but that word perfectly captured the stunning man before her. His muscles reminded her of a coiled snake waiting to strike, and his blue gaze shone as bright as a clear summer sky in this moment. “I trust ye,” she whispered.
“That’s a great gift,” he said gravely as he slid his braies off, “and I promise to do my best to never break your trust.” His hands gripped her ankles and slid her toward the edge of the bed, and then he crouched before her and gently parted her thighs.
She felt more exposed than she ever had in her life, but she had promised to trust him and she intended to do just that. His fingers found that magical spot at her center once more, and he began to massage her in little circles that made her wild with pulsing need. “Reikart,” she moaned. “What are ye doing to me?”
“Getting you ready for me,” he said, and then God’s blood, his tongue touched her at her core in a slow delicious slide up and down, and she splintered, bucking her hips up to press him closer as waves of pleasure washed over her. But even as she clenched inside, Reikart’s thighs pressed hers farther open, his hands slid under her bottom, and he lifted her ever so slightly, before a hot pressure nudged her core.
Her eyes flew open, making her aware only then that she had closed them. Sweat glistened on his chest, and his face was tense with concentration. Still, the look of adoration he gave her made her heart swell with unbelievable hope. She could love this man.
“It will hurt for just a second, but I promise on my life, the pain will go away. Trust me still?”
She nodded, too emotional to speak. And then his body broke the barrier keeping him out, and he slid inside her, filling her, stretching her. The pain was instant and sharp. She clenched her teeth and dug her nails into the bedding to make fists. “This does nae feel good,” she panted. “I feel like ye are ripping me in two.”
He held perfectly still, the muscles in his arms bulging, the control it took for him to restrain himself apparent by his strained look. “Give it a moment. I won’t move until you tell me to, and if you tell me to stop, I’ll do that, too.”
“But ye are supposed to make me yers,” she said, her throat constricting with her roiling feelings.
“Dee,” he said, his gaze holding her as tightly as his hands, “you were mine the moment we said our vows.”
She bit her lip on the desire to cry with happiness, and after a moment, the sharp pain receded, just as he’d said it would. She relaxed a bit. “Ye can move. Slowly.”
“I promise,” he said soothingly, and he was true to his word, taking exquisite care to fill her with his body gently. Once he was inside her, the pain gave way to that same dull ache of need that had gripped her before.
“More,” she whispered. And that was all it took.
He slid slowly out of her, almost to the tip, and the friction nearly drove her wild. He repeated the motion until she bellowed at him to stop tormenting her. With a chuckle, he came over her, the bed creaking under his weight, his chest grazing her sensitive buds, and then he was filling her once again.
