Page 57 of The Queen and the Half-blood
“I’m ready,” she replied huskily. “If you are?”
The smile he gave her then made her pulse go wild. “Oh, aye,” he murmured. “You have no idea, lass.”
The Mother preserve me.
He shifted between her spread thighs once more and positioned the slick head of his rod at her entrance. But as he did so, fear flickered up again. It had hurt when Dunchadh took her. Hot, tearing agony that went on and on. Would there be pain now too?
Holding her gaze, a teasing smile still tugging at his lips, Alar eased himself into her. She’d tensed, and was tight, but he didn’t rush her. Instead, he slowly rolled his hips, gently pressing against her.
And eventually, she opened for him.
Once again, his calmness quieted her fear, as did his ability to bring humor into this intimate moment.
However, the feel of his solid heat sliding deep, stretching her, made a whimper claw up her throat.
When he was all the way in, he let her adjust to him. Moments slid by, and then he undulated his hips. Pleasure rippled through her lower belly. Wetness flooded her loins, and she started to tremble.
Alar stared down at her, sweat glistening on his forehead and cheeks. He wasn’t smiling now. Instead, his lean face was taut, his skin pulled tight across his high cheekbones. He almost looked as if he were in pain.
“Are you all right?” she asked breathlessly.
“Aye.” His grey eyes gleamed as they held her fast. “Words fail me.”
Lara couldn’t help it; she gave a soft snort. “Well, that’ll be a first.”
His lips twitched. “Sometimes, talk isn’t what’s needed.” And then he began to ride her in slow, deep strokes, holding her thighs apart as he did so.
Lara swallowed a groan. She’d only recently peaked, but with each thrust, something started to build inside her once more. Her eyes fluttered shut. The way he filled her, stretched her. She wanted more of him. And like earlier, she pushed up against him then, encouraging him.
Grunting, Alar pushed one of her legs up, holding it fast under the knee, so that he could penetrate deeper.
She bit down on her lower lip, her thighs trembling as tension coiled again. Moments later, wild pleasure twisted in her womb. She gave a strangled cry.
He rolled his hips and plunged into her again. “That’s good, is it?”
“Gods!” she gasped.
His lips curved into a wicked, sensual smile. “The Five aren’t here tonight, Lara,” he murmured. “Only you and me.”
The gravelly edge to his voice made her stomach muscles clench. His words were blasphemy, yet they sounded like a promise.
He took her in deep, measured strokes that stoked the fire in her belly.
Lara stared up at him, transfixed. She had no idea sex could feel like this. After Dunchadh, she’d looked upon a man’s prick as an instrument of domination and torture. Tonight, she discovered that not all lovers were like her first husband. Some actually wanted to give their woman pleasure.
And as Alar took her, his own self-control frayed.
Panting, she continued to watch his face, fascinated. His expression was raw, almost feral. Sweat now gleamed upon his torso, his lean frame quivering as he climbed toward his own climax. “Fuck!” he choked out.
His reaction unleashed her, and she bucked against him, slapping a hand over her mouth to smother a cry.
Alar thrust deep one last time while his body arched back.
The cords of his neck tightened, and a nerve flickered in his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut, his body trembling as he spilled inside her.
“I meant to be gentler than that.”
Lara pushed herself off his sweat-damp chest, her gaze settling on Alar’s face. He lay on his back on the sheepskins. Following their coupling, they’d collapsed there—and to her surprise, he’d pulled her close. There they’d lain, the rasp of their breathing joining the crackle of the hearth. “Youweregentle,” she assured him.
