When he looked up, a gentle wonder lit her gaze.
Suddenly, he didn’t wish to let go of her. He wanted to clasp Hallie’s hand forever. Drawn into the crystal depths of her eyes, enclosing her fingers in his own, he felt a rightness, a belonging he’d never felt before.
From the time he’d laid eyes on the beautiful Valkyrie, he’d been dreaming of holding her in his arms. Of kissing her mouthwatering lips. Of running his hands through her silvery tresses and over her glorious skin.
Now he had a lifetime ahead of him to do just that.
Yet he felt like he didn’t want to lose a moment.
Hallie didn’t want to waste another instant. Now that she’d come to a decision, she saw no reason to hold back.
From their first touch, she’d felt something special between them. A spark of life. A whisper of something far greater and more powerful.
Now that they’d made a commitment, there was no excuse not to further explore that feeling.
She slipped her hand through his, locking their fingers together.
He lowered his head again over their joined hands, brushing her knuckles with his lips. When he lifted his head, his gaze focused on her mouth.
She could read his intent at once.
“Shall we seal our vow with a…” he began.
She didn’t let him finish. Rising on her knees, she caught the back of his head with her free hand and pulled him forward for a kiss.
Startled for only an instant, he began to answer with tentative kisses of his own. They were soft at first, as if he were tasting blancmange, relishing the smooth, silky sweetness.
But soon the pressure of his lips coaxed hers open, and he deepened the kiss. Their breath mingled as she sighed in awe and discovery. Her eyelids grew heavy. Her limbs melted. Their mouths met and fed and battled and soothed while a warm vibration of longing swirled around her head.
He loosed his hand from her limp fingers and lifted it to capture her cheek. Nudging her jaw open with his thumb, he slanted his head and gently swept his tongue inside.
While fragrant steam rose from the bath, molten desire radiated through her body. Filling her veins. Igniting her senses. Thawing her heart.
The playful splash of water slurping at the side of the tub contrasted with the rough and hungry growl rising in her throat.
She wanted more.
No longer tenuous, his kisses became insistent, demanding. She welcomed his aggression, answering him with a passion of her own, exploring his mouth with her tongue and letting her hands range over his tempting flesh.
Her fingers glided across his smooth, wet skin. She tracked the insistent throb of his pulse in his corded throat. Sighed over the supple muscle of his magnificent chest. Gasped at the hard pucker of his nipple as she brushed it with a fingertip.
A low groan escaped him. She responded as if the primitive sound were the call of a wolf to its mate. Every nerve awoke. Every sense was heightened. She felt an almost irresistible imperative to join with him.
And then he made things worse.
He began to return her explorations in kind. He traced the contours of her jaw and neck with his thumbs. Tugged open her kirtle until it rasped from her shoulders. Slid the backs of his scarred knuckles slowly across her bosom, then lower, over her breasts, making her breath catch as he brazenly brushed across her nipples.
At his touch, a bolt of current, as lethal as lightning, shot through her body, wringing a gasp from her. Need licked at her skin and coursed through her veins.
Breaking free just long enough to wrench the pesky kirtle and leine from her arms, letting them drop to the floor at her knees, she faced him with raw lust and bold challenge.
His gaze raced over her with a brazen thirst that filled her with heady triumph and sent her desire spiraling to new heights.
“Och, lass,” he despaired, “ye tempt me sorely.”
Her thrill of victory didn’t last long. Once she lowered her gaze beneath the water and spied the beast rising from its nest of dark curls, passion quickly wiped the satisfied smile from her face, leaving her mouth open in awe.
Several thoughts raced through her mind in the span of an instant.
He was beautiful.
He was attracted to her.
He was ready for her.
One day soon, she would become his wife.
At which time he would consummate their marriage.
With that.
And suddenly it seemed so…impossible.
But before she could dwell too long on the physical logistics of mating, he seemed to sense her hesitation and released her.
“I’ll go no further, lass,” he said on a sigh, withdrawing and using his hands to shield his erection from her view. “I don’t wish to frighten ye.”
He meant to do the gentlemanly thing. He meant to protect her from his raging appetite. To guard her from harm at his hands.
His mistake was using the word, “frighten.”
Hallidis of Rivenloch wasn’t afraid of anything. Least of all the sort of blunted dagger that every milkmaid’s mother in Scotland had been impaled with at one time or another.
It was only doubt and misgiving that made her hesitate.
In battle, such doubt came from not knowing one’s foe, being unable to predict behavior or anticipate attacks.
The answer then was not to withdraw, but to lean in. To learn everything she could about Colban an Curaidh.
Though Colban had retreated, his chest still heaved with lusty breaths, and there was a shimmering spark in his eyes where desire smoldered. It would take but a small nudge, a whisper of encouragement to make that spark flicker back to life.
“I’m not afraid,” she told him.
With confidence born of willpower, she reached into the water and moved his hands aside. Then she slipped her hand carefully around him, grasping him as she would a sword.
He sucked a hard breath between his teeth. For one shameful instant, she feared she’d hurt him. But a quick glance at the pleasure in his eyes disabused her of that notion.
It was not unpleasant, holding him like this. His velvety smoothness would not injure her, she was sure.
He’d closed his eyes. She took the opportunity to lean forward and steal a kiss.
He responded at once, cradling her head in his hands and delving deeply into her mouth, letting their tongues mate in liquid ecstasy.
Beneath the water, her fingers skimmed along his length. He pulsed within her hand, which she slid all the way up to the hilt.
He groaned as if in torment, and Isabel’s warning haunted her.
“Is that too rough?” she murmured. “Have I hurt you?”
He answered with a sultry chuckle. “’Tisn’t pain, lass.”
His hand made a swift but sensual trek down her body, past her breasts, across her abdomen, and lower. He slipped his fingers into her nest of curls, stroking her there like a kitten.
Then he eased a finger between her nether lips, trespassing into the very place where all her desire centered.
At his touch, a surge of need blew through her soul like a hot wind. Her entire body felt suddenly aflame.
He was right. It wasn’t pain. It was like a sweet torment. A pleasurable, unquenchable longing for more.
She writhed against him, delighting in the pressure and friction of his fingertips grazing her flesh.
Below the water, he moved in a similar fashion against her palm, like a dagger seeking the sheath of her hand.
Soon their exploration took a serious turn. A turn from which there was little hope of return. Temptation would not be denied. Longing became need.
Caught up in a growing firestorm of sensations, billowing quickly out of control, Hallie gasped for breath.
Colban answered with a groan, resting his brow on her shoulder as if he battled some inner demon of his own making.
And in that moment of torturous restraint, hovering on the edge of desire and sin, of what they longed for and what wa
s forbidden, a dangerous notion flickered to life in Hallie’s fevered brain.
Why should they hold back?
Why shouldn’t they simply follow their instincts? Let nature guide them? Strike while the iron was hot?
She wanted him.
He wanted her.
What would seal their union better than consummating it?
And then an even darker thought intruded upon her reasoning.
If she surrendered her virginity to him, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to undo their betrothal and deny their marriage. No one could foil her plans. Not her parents. Not even the king.
Coupling with the handsome Highlander was not only a desirable option. It was a damned clever strategy.
Colban was going to shame himself. He could feel it.
It had been a while since he’d unleashed the beast. And it was roaring for release.
He had to stop the lovely lass before it was too late to stop. The last thing he wanted was for his bride to see him gushing in the bath like a beardless lad. She might have second thoughts about marrying a man with so little control.
So he reluctantly withdrew his fingers from her warm and lovely nest, ignoring her sigh of dismay.
Grasping her shoulder, he lifted his head and, with a wordless look of apology, pushed her gently away. He pulled out of her grip, shivering in spite of himself at the divine sensation.
At the interruption, her eyes narrowed with impatience. But impatience rapidly turned to confusion and then disappointment. She assumed he was rejecting her.
Moved by the bleak hurt in her eyes, he knew he couldn’t simply abandon her. There was but one thing to do to convince her of his devotion. He had to finish what he’d started, one way or the other.
He had to act swiftly, before her desire could wane. He emerged from the bath like Lir, the sea god, dripping as he caught her under the arms and lifted her to her feet. Stepping from the tub, he swept her onto the bed.
She made no protest. Indeed, her gaze burned even brighter with craving as he laid her on her back atop the linens. For a moment, he could only stare down at her in wonder.
How had this happened? How had he won the hand of the beautiful Valkyrie? Did he even deserve such an amazing reward?
Now was not the time for second thoughts. She was aching. And he knew how to ease her.
“Close your eyes,” he murmured.
“I’m not afraid,” she protested.
He smiled. “Nor should ye be.”
He eased himself onto the bed beside her. Lying on his side, he used the tip of his finger to trace a line down her center, from the top of her brow, between her closed eyes, down her nose, over her lips, which parted at his touch.
Before he was through, those lips would sigh with delight, beg him for mercy, and cry out in ecstasy. Soon they would recite wedding vows. And he hoped one day they would utter words of love from her heart.
He continued on his journey, tracing her chin and her throat, where her heart throbbed in anticipation, sinking into the hollow of her collar bone, smoothing the silky flesh between her breasts.
The pounding need in his groin was only growing worse. And he would find no ease from her today. But it was a small price to pay to earn her trust.
His fingertip grazed her abdomen, circling her navel, and slipped into the golden curls guarding her womanhood.
She arched up to meet him, and he pressed the heel of his hand down, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from her.
She stiffened when he threw his leg over her thighs, anchoring her to the bed. But once he began ministering to the throbbing ache betwixt her legs, she relaxed back on the feather-filled pallet.
Watching her face as he tenderly stroked her delicate flesh was almost more than he could bear. Her eyes squeezed shut with fierce need. Her mouth opened in breathless awe. She rocked her head as she floated in a world where suffering was a hair’s breadth away from satisfaction.
Furrowing his brow with his own torment, he swooped down upon her, capturing her rough gasps and lovely sighs in his mouth.
He knew the moment she began her ascent into the heavenly realm of surrender, when she’d reached the point of no return.
Her focus became so centered, she was no longer able to return his kisses. Her fists clenched the linens. Her breath caught in shallow gasps. Her body went rigid.
He watched her with awe as she finally yielded to her passions. He felt her release almost as if it were his own as, with a ragged cry of ecstasy, she arced in a blissful seizure and finally shuddered back to earth.
For a brief moment afterward, he held her in his arms, soothing her with soft murmurs, despite the white hot lust yet raging in his loins.
And then, just when he was convinced she was a beautiful angel, fallen out of the sky and left for him as a gift from God, she perpetrated a most devilish deed.
Chapter 26
Once, in a tournament melee long ago, in the midst of triumphant battle, Hallie had taken an unexpected blow to the helm. A blow that left her sitting on her arse, groggy and disoriented.
That was how she felt now. After a thrilling moment of unbridled joy and glowing satisfaction, now, in the dazed aftermath of her earthshaking release, she felt weak. Spent. Useless.
Colban had guided her on a remarkable journey—climbing up and cresting a great mountain, soaring blissfully across the sky, and finally plunging off a cliff of ecstasy.
Yet even in her dizzy state, she could sense the dramatic trek had changed her. It had forged her into a new weapon. A weapon that was stronger. More determined. And more willful.
Once she was rejuvenated and empowered, she felt it was only right to return his lusty overtures. To prove to him she could give as good as she got. But also to seek sweet revenge for the devastating blow he’d dealt her. To claim victory over the Champion. And to truly seal their bond.
Before he could brace for her swift attack, Hallie rose up and rolled him onto his back. While he lay pinned there in surprise, she boldly reached between their bodies, finding the still swollen evidence of his desire.
He groaned at her touch.
But when she guided him toward the aching hollow of her womanhood, he choked out a warning. “Easy, lass.”
“I want it,” she assured him. “I want this.”
“Ye say that now,” he said on a rueful chuckle, “but later ye may regret—”
Quickly, before he could change her mind and she could lose her nerve, she thrust him inside her, sheathing him like a blade.
He grunted in surprise and pleasure.
But like a blade, despite his velvety warmth, he wounded her. She winced as pain seared her loins.
Seeing her recoil, he sucked in a sharp breath of empathy between his teeth. “Och nay,” he despaired, his brow crumpling in dismay. “Are ye hurt? I’m so sorry, lass.”
It stung, but not nearly as bad as the cut of a knife. Sorry? What was he sorry for? She’d known to expect pain. And it wasn’t like she’d given him much choice in the matter.
“I’m not sorry,” she rasped out.
She reeled at the recklessness of what she’d done. It was the kind of impulsive action Jenefer might have taken. The kind of stealthy maneuver Feiyan might have planned.
But she’d accomplished what she’d intended. The consummation was complete. And in fact, the discomfort was already receding, replaced by a curious fullness.
“It shouldn’t have been like this,” he insisted. “It can be so much better.”
She swallowed as the burning subsided, then said, “Show me.”
He gazed up at her then with smoky eyes, raw with need, yet full of compassion. “Ye’re certain?”
“What’s done is done,” she said. “If we’re to be married, what difference does a few days make?”
Her words convinced him. He nodded. “If ye’ll allow me,” he ventured, “I can help ease the pain.”
She nodded. Now that she’d accomplished what she intended, pe
rhaps it was best to let him take the reins.
Staying within her, he rolled her gently onto her back. Holding his weight on one hand, he used the other to carefully massage the place where they were united.
Gradually, her discomfort abated, and another sensation surfaced. Hunger for more.
“Better?” he asked tightly.
She opened her eyes a fraction. Only then did she glimpse the excruciating restraint in his firmly clamped mouth. The tension in his jaw. The naked avarice of his gaze. The longing he denied himself for want of giving her comfort.
That expression infused her with renewed yearning. The fact he would suffer his own pain for the desire to please her moved her beyond words. She felt a tightness in her throat. A surge of affection. An impulse to reward him for his kindness.
“Aye,” she breathed. “Much better.”
To her surprise, when he carefully withdrew, she missed him at once. When his fingers danced upon her most sensitive spot, she thrust her hips upward, enveloping him once more.
He tensed, but this time she knew it was in pleasure, not pain.
Again he retreated, arousing her with deft movements of his fingeritps.
Again she surged forward, making him grimace with lust.
Their motion became a whirlwind of sensation, as he teased and tempted her flesh to higher arousal. And Hallie, encouraged by his reaction, drove him to greater heights of passion with her thrusts.
Again and again they collided. She clung to him for purchase, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, finally digging her heels into his buttocks to coax him deeper, harder, faster.
This time, they scaled the slope of revelry together. Their breath made a swirling mist of desire. Where they joined, sweat glossed their skin. Their gasps and groans made sensuous music on the air while their hearts beat in tandem.
Soon she found herself standing again at the precipice of surrender as warm ardor bubbled up inside her, filling her veins and melting the ice around her heart.
But this time she wasn’t alone. This time, he suffered along with her, writhing in delicious torment and gasping in exhilarating anguish. With a last bellow of conquest, he clung to her as they pierced through the clouds in a glorious victory. Then together they dove earthward, shattering on the ground into a thousand pieces.
Bride of Ice Page 20
