Page 80 of The Iron Earl

She had to stop this—had to make him understand.

Wedging her arms between them, she pushed against his chest.

No movement.

She shoved.

He broke away, the hunger in his eyes near to eating her up in just one blink.

“You’ll rescind the promise from Domnall?”

“Eva—“

Her voice set hard, her palms pounded onto his chest. “Swear it.”

He stared at her, the blue streaks in his hazel eyes on fire. He exhaled a breath, his head shaking against his words. “Yes—yes, I’ll relieve him of his promise.”

“It’s only you, Lachlan. Only you.”

“I’m beginning to understand that very thing, Eva.”

“Good.” She captured his face in her hands, drawing him closer, her already bruised lips finding his once more.

The frenzy of her core had already pitched high, demanding release, and her hands dropped from his face to attack his clothes. Dragging off his jacket, her fingers moved forward to make quick work of the buttons on the front falls of his trousers. The fabric fell and his shaft lifted high, demanding, into the open air.

He didn’t need any cajoling, his hands running along her sides to her breasts, teasing her nipples through the wool of the fabric. Insistent, he tugged the bodice of her dress downward, freeing her right nipple.

His mouth left hers, diving to her breast, to tug the delicate skin with his teeth.

A guttural gasp flew from her mouth. Just like she liked it. Just like he liked it.

His hands went to the sides of her skirts, bunching the fabric up on either side of her. She twisted them so his rear was to his desk and she pushed him backward.

He dropped, sitting on the edge of the smooth walnut, scattered papers half under him.

Before he could say a word, she crawled on top of his lap, straddling him on the desk.

The rumble of a low laugh shook into the room. “Wanton minx.”

“Debaucher of innocent maidens.” She leaned forward, catching his lower lip in her teeth and tugging it. She nipped at it until he growled, lifting her hips and positioning her over his straining member.

She’d known nothing of the possibilities of the pleasures of the flesh weeks ago, but she’d been a quick study. And she knew her husband liked a little pain with his pleasure.

He also wanted to slow the pace. But she wasn’t about to allow it.

Locking her knees on the desk in place, she settled herself downward in a rush, his shaft sliding up into her in one long motion. In quick succession, she lifted herself and drew him back into her—fast—the initial stokes brutal in her need.

She paused when he filled her to the hilt, their bodies fused. Paused to capture his mouth again, to kiss him so soundly he was panting for breath, gasping for release.

“Hell, Eva.” Her name trailed off as his hands along her back clenched, his fingers digging into the muscles.

“Yes, my husband?” A lascivious grin caught her lips in between her labored breaths. Her thighs straining, she lifted herself up along his shaft. Slowly. Painful in the torture for him. For her.

At the rib of his tip, she stopped, hovering above him, her eyes locked on his.

“Only you, Lachlan.”

“Yes.” The one word lifted brutal from his lips, a plea and a promise.

---