He hadn’t gone this long without a woman since the training on Skye he’d done with the Highland Guard. But then it hadn’t been voluntary, merely a consequence of the lack of opportunity. He frowned, knowing that hadn’t been the cause of his abstinence this time. He’d had plenty of opportunities to relieve the tension. Why hadn’t he?
Because he wanted only her.
He pushed aside the uncomfortable realization before it formed. That couldn’t be it. He liked the lass—admired her, even—but she was no different than any other.
Bossier, maybe. Smarter, and less inclined to believe everything that came out of his mouth. And definitely more frustrating. But no more special than any other woman he’d ever wanted to bed. Once he relieved a little of the tension, everything would slip back into place.
He held her gaze for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few moments. When she nodded, he felt the rush of pure masculine satisfaction surge through him. He started to gather her into his arms, but she stopped him. “Wait.”
He stilled. Please no second thoughts.
“You won’t …”
She was too embarrassed to finish the question, but he guessed what she was asking.
He couldn’t help but be amused. She actually seemed worried that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. The idea that lust could get the better of him—particularly with an unskilled maid—was ludicrous enough to make him smile.
“You will still be a maid,” he promised. Her virtue intact for a husband.
His eyes narrowed. Did she have someone in mind? Was that the reason for her resistance?
He felt a spike of anger, realizing how little he knew about her. He was tempted to question her, but he knew it was none of his business. Yet that didn’t mean he didn’t have every intention of wiping any other man from her mind.
He couldn’t wait to make her scream. For him. Only him.
He leaned down and kissed her again, feeling a hard jarring in his chest when she slid her arms around his neck and gave herself over to him.
Finally.
Fourteen
When he gathered her in his arms and pressed his mouth to hers, Ellie felt as if something had exploded inside her. The feelings, the desire, the passion she’d held in check unleashed in a blast of heat and sensation.
Any uncertainty she might have felt was gone. She wanted this. She wanted him. More than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. Regret could come later. Right now it simply felt too good.
He felt too good. She would never forget the softness of his lips. The spicy warmth of his breath. The incredible hardness of his body. The heat of his skin. She wanted to sink into him and never let go. She wanted to pretend that this could be forever. That one kiss would not have to last her a lifetime.
His lips were gentle but insistent, urging the response that she was eager to give. She returned his kiss with all the fervor of innocent passion that had been building inside her from the first.
But he seemed content to take his time. To drag out every touch, every caress. To drive her crazy with anticipation. He’d promised pleasure, and he was giving it. But not fast enough.
She knew he’d done this before—no doubt more times than she wanted to know. His control and deliberateness reminded her of that fact. She wanted to taste his passion. To feel the full force of his desire for her. To know that she was not alone in the madness that had taken hold.
He was leaning over her as she reclined on the bench, but it wasn’t enough. She craved contact, needing to feel the weight of his big, hard body pressing down on her. She pulled him closer, trying to silently impart her wishes, but he only lifted his head and chuckled softly.
His thumb caressed her bottom lip, damp from his kiss. “Patience, tè bheag. I want to make it good for you.”
Was he daft? “It is—”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “No managing, Ellie. Do you want me to stop, or are you going to let me do this my way?”
She thought about testing him—she wasn’t the only one breathing hard—but in the end decided not to chance it. Now that she’d begun this wicked dance, she didn’t want to stop until she reached its fruition. So she nodded.
“Good girl,” he said, replacing his finger with his mouth.
He was a cruel man. Torturing her with each slow, deliberate caress until she thought she would die of anticipation. When he finally coaxed her lips apart, she moaned with relief at the delicious warmth of his tongue sliding in her mouth. Though it wasn’t a surprise, the sensation was still new enough to make her shudder. It felt as if her entire body was slowly coming apart.
This time she knew how to respond. When her tongue circled his, she was rewarded for her efforts with a deep masculine groan that reverberated down to her toes. It was all the encouragement she needed. Sensing a weakening in his control, she threw herself into the kiss with everything she had.
And it worked. With each erotic stroke, his kiss grew more demanding. Harder. Deeper. Wetter.
She was so hot. The sultry air of the sauna wreaked havoc with her senses. Everything felt so intense. Her body restless, sensitive, and teeming with heat. Her nipples were hard and throbbing, aching for the press of his hand or the weight of his chest. The soft place between her legs felt wet and throbbing, wanting …
She didn’t know what.
Her fingers curled into his back desperately. Beneath the damp linen of his shirt, she could feel the hard splay of his muscles straining under her fingertips. The memories of his bare chest were so fresh, she wanted to rip off his shirt and press her hands against his hot skin. To mold her palms over his broad shoulders, over the round muscles of his arms and the flat slabs of his back and stomach.
Maybe he sensed her urgency?
His mouth moved over her jaw, ravishing her throat, lingering at the sensitive curve of her shoulder.
She tried to breathe through the frantic pounding of her heart as he worked the ties of her chemise. She was barely aware of the hot air on her naked breast before his hand covered her. She gasped with raw pleasure as his palm, rough with calluses, cupped her and his fingers worked her nipple to a taut peak.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” She gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, embarrassed to realize that he was staring at her breasts as if he’d never seen anything so spectacular. As if the small mounds of flesh could somehow compare to those with far more generous proportions. “You have the tiniest, pinkest nipples.” He ran his finger over one just to emphasize his point. “I think they might be the sweetest I’ve ever seen.”
The warmth of his breath on her skin made it prickle. His mouth was only inches away. She gasped with shock when he flicked her with his tongue. He held her gaze, his eyes darkening with something she didn’t recognize right before he covered her with his mouth.
Hot shards of pleasure exploded inside her. Instinctively she arched into his mouth and plunged her fingers through the thick softness of his hair to clutch the back of his head, craving the added pressure. He sucked her nipple deep into his mouth, nibbling it between his teeth with just enough friction to make her cry out.
God, it felt incredible—as if he was drawing something from deep inside her. Yet every wicked sensation wrought by his mouth on her breast was mirrored in the tender place between her legs. The throbbing. The warmth. The urgency.
He made a sharp sound deep in his throat, and shifted her slightly to slide his hand under the hem of her chemise between her legs. The brush of his fingers on her thigh shocked her from her dazed reverie. She stiffened and pressed her thighs together, catching his hand. “Don’t. You can’t.”
He lifted his mouth from her breast and grinned. “Relax, love, there’s nothing to worry about.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m only going to touch you with my fingers. You’re going to like it.”
But it seemed so … intimate.
She bit her lip, and he leaned up to kiss her.
“Trust me,” he whispered agains
t her mouth, then kissed her with hard, insistent strokes that made her want to.
Slowly, her legs fell apart, releasing his hand.
A moment later she knew he was right.
The first brush of his finger made her tremble. The second made her body weep for more. And the third … the third time he plunged his finger deep inside her and made her groan and think she’d just glimpsed heaven.
He broke the kiss and she could hear the harshness of his breathing. “God, you’re so soft and wet.”
From the low groan of his voice, she gathered this was a good thing.
He circled his finger inside her, resting the heel of his hand against her mound. Heat swirled inside her. She felt something hard and sharp building. He circled faster, plunging his finger in and out, and her hips started to press against his hand.
Erik struggled to control the fierce pounding of his heart. Ellie’s responsiveness was killing him. Who would have guessed that beneath that prim little exterior beat the heart of a wild temptress? He’d been right about her bottling up that passionate nature of hers, but what he hadn’t anticipated was that she would take to it with such enthusiasm—as if she were making up for lost time.
Hell, it was almost more than one man could handle. Good thing for her that he was up to the challenge. Still, he was having a damned hard time reminding himself that he couldn’t sink into her—especially when, as his finger was stroking that tight, wet heat, she lifted her little hips against his hand and those mouth-watering little breasts of hers arched closer to his mouth.
Her breasts had been a surprise. He was beginning to think he might have made an oversight in not giving small breasts more recognition. What she lacked in size and heft, she more than made up for in shape. He couldn’t recall ever seeing two more exquisitely shaped mounds of creamy ivory flesh. Round and firm, they fit perfectly in his palm, and those tantalizing little nipples …
Heat swelled in his groin. Pretty and pink, they reminded him of two ripe berries. Perfect for plucking between his teeth. And they’d tasted just as sweet, pressing hard against his tongue.
She whimpered and writhed against his hand.
Beautiful. He watched the pleasure sweep over her face and felt a strange pressure in his chest, an intense yearning for something that he’d never felt before. It was a different kind of lust. It felt important. Significant. He didn’t just want to make her come, he wanted her with a fierceness that gripped his entire body.
Christ. Sweat gathered at his brow as he struggled to take it slow. But she was so wet and hot. Her skin so velvety soft. Her body so damn responsive. And those little cries of hers were driving him wild.
He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted someone this badly. His cock strained hard against his stomach, throbbing to the point of pain. Blood hammered in his ears.
Maybe the sauna hadn’t been a good idea. The heat was playing havoc with his senses. His skin felt like it was on fire. Everything seemed sharper, hotter, and more intense. The soft, feminine fragrance of her skin surrounded him.
Slow down. Breathe.
It wasn’t working. His chest felt heavy and tight, his muscles rigid.
What in Hades was wrong with him? This wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned. He’d wanted to take it slow, to draw out every moment and every touch. To make her first time perfect for her. Instead his hands felt like two unsteady blocks, his movements were jerky and clumsy, and he was in danger of spewing in his braies like an untried lad.
His reputation as a skilled, unhurried lover was suffering a severe thrashing.
She was moaning nearly uncontrollably now, her breath coming out in hard, gasping pants. “Please …”
Her soft plea for release called on every primal masculine instinct inside him to make her his. All he could think about was ripping off their clothes and sliding their naked bodies together until they were both slick with heat. Until he was thrusting deep inside her and her cries of pleasure were echoing in his ears.
He couldn’t go on like this much longer.
He knew she was close. So close that she wouldn’t put up a fight when she realized what he was going to do. No matter how much he was suffering, he intended to make sure this was something she would never forget.
Ellie cried out in sensual frustration when he pulled his hand away. It felt as if she’d been climbing and climbing to something extraordinary only to have it jerked away at the last minute.
“Don’t worry, love. It’s only going to get better.” His voice was tight and ragged. “I need to taste you.”
Kissing was good, Ellie thought. Anything to release this pleasure coiling so tightly inside her.
He laid her down on the bench gently and slid to his knees. Slowly, he eased the edge of her chemise up her thighs. He lowered his head. A flash of lucidity pierced through the haze.
Her heart slammed against her chest. Her body quivered with shock—and something shamefully like anticipation. No, it was wicked to even think. He couldn’t mean to …
Instinctively she tried to close her knees, but it was too late. He licked her, and the pleasure was so intense that her objections dissolved in a pool of liquid heat. She would rather die of embarrassment later than make him stop now. Never had she imagined something could feel so incredible.
He had his hands on her hips, holding her steady. “Open your eyes, Ellie.” She did as instructed. “I want you to watch when I pleasure you.”
Their eyes locked. Seeing his mouth so close … why did it only make her want it more? Why did it feel so deliciously erotic and naughty? She was shaking with desire. With anticipation. Never had she felt so vulnerable. But somehow she trusted that with him it would be all right.
He pressed a soft kiss against her and she melted. His mouth was so warm and gentle. His tongue slid inside her, thrusting until her hips circled against him. Until she thought she was going to die of pleasure.
His kiss turned rougher. Tonguing her deeper and deeper. Circling. Flicking. Sucking. Using his fingers. Her hips rose up to meet him. It was right there. She could feel it concentrating.
“Oh God,” she moaned. She couldn’t stop it. The pressure spiked.
“That’s it, love,” he murmured against her, “come for me.”
She came apart, crying out as the tight ball of sensation shattered inside her. She pulsed against his mouth, and he held her there until the last spasm of pleasure had ebbed from her body.
Slowly, her heartbeat slowed, and she returned to consciousness. He’d eased off her, but still had the linen of her chemise clenched in his fingers.
His head was bent over her, and he was holding himself so stiffly, if it wasn’t for the harshness of his breathing, she would have thought he wasn’t real.
“What’s wrong?” She placed her hand on his rigid shoulder and he jerked at her touch.
He looked up at her. His handsome face was strained and tight, his blue eyes dark. He looked to be in severe pain.
“Nothing,” he growled. His shoulders drew up as he struggled to take a deep, ragged breath. Then, more gently, he said, “If you want to leave here a maid, I need a minute.”
Her eyes widened, realizing he was fighting for control. “Oh.” She sat up, adjusting her chemise. He hadn’t taken his pleasure. Was it the same way for him as it was for her? Was he feeling the way she had when he took his hand away? She bit her lip. “Is there anything I can … do?”
His jaw hardened, and he shook his head. “I’ll take care of it later.”
Take care of it? How? All of a sudden she realized. “No!” She didn’t want him to go to another woman. “Please, I want to. Show me how.”
Erik’s heart stopped beating, not believing his ears. He was having a hard enough time getting himself under control. Watching her come had aroused him to the point of almost mindless need. Pushed to the very edge of his control, where all it would take was one nudge to send him over. Her offer was almost more than he could bear.
He shook his head. “You don’t know what you are offering.”
She was a virgin, for Christ’s sake.
Ellie put her hand on his leg and he stiffened, the blood pounding even hotter. Sweat gathered across his brow, and it wasn’t from the sauna.
“I know that I want to give you pleasure.” Her cheeks heated adorably. “The way you pleasured me.” She bit her lip and gazed up at him uncertainly. “If it’s possible?”
God, was it possible! In a number of ways.
Erik closed his eyes and fought for control but knew he was past the point of arguing. The idea of her hand on him—he dared not picture her mouth—was too tempting to refuse.
She wanted to pleasure him. Usually he was the one who gave—whether it was pleasure in the bedchamber or entertainment around the campfire. He wasn’t used to someone thinking about what he wanted. But Ellie never seemed to act the way she was supposed to.
“Tell me,” she prodded softly.
He looked into her eyes, every inch of his body pulled as tight as a bowstring. His jaw was clenched so hard he could barely get the words out. “I can’t.”
Instead he showed her. Holding her gaze, he moved her hand over him.
He groaned at the contact—and at the little erotic sound of surprise that emerged from between her parted lips. She swallowed, with some effort, but when she didn’t remove her hand, he thanked about every god he could think of.
Molding her hand around him, he savored the sensation for as long as he could. He was in danger of losing it with her just holding him.
Clearly this wasn’t going to last long. His vaunted stamina seemed to have deserted him. Ellie was wreaking havoc with his reputation. Not that anyone would believe it. Hell, he couldn’t believe it himself.
Her shock wore off quickly. He almost wished it back, however, when his too-curious little nursemaid started to explore him with painstaking attention to detail. She petted him gently as if she were afraid he would break, when all he wanted to do was curl that soft little palm of hers around him with a firm grip and let her stroke him until he burst into mindless oblivion. She tested his length, moving her hand up and down, and then his girth with a tentative circle of her hand. But her hands were small and he was not; she could barely close halfway.
The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel Page 20
