So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(72)

He planted his hands on her rump and lifted her off the pool’s rock floor. “Wrap your legs around me.”

“What?” She grabbed on to his shoulders as he kept raising her higher. Her breasts were now abovewater, completely exposed. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air, the tips tight and aching to be touched.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he repeated. “And squeeze me tight.”

Tentatively, she hooked her right leg around his hips, just above the low waistband of his breeches.

“And the other one.” He slid one arm under her rump to support her, while using his other hand to drape her left leg around his waist.

He pulled her hard against him, and she cried out when her private parts came in contact with his hard abdomen. Her gaze met his, and she melted at the fierce yearning in his golden eyes.

He placed his fingertips on her shoulder, then dragged them down the upper curve of one breast till he reached her nipple. When his thumb rasped against the hardened tip, she shuddered.

“Sweet,” he whispered, gliding his hand beneath the breast to test its weight, then returning to tease her nipple. His gaze moved to her other breast, then he leaned close and drew that nipple into his mouth.

She cried out, raking her fingers into his hair and holding him close. With each flick of his tongue, she tightened her legs around his waist. When he suckled hard, she could no longer bear it. Digging her heels into his back, she ground herself against him.

With a groan, he nuzzled his face against her breasts. “You’re killing me.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“I want to touch you. But that’s as far as I can go. I cannot risk getting you with child.”

Her thighs tightened involuntarily, and his gaze met hers.

“But I want you. I want you so bad it hurts.” He looked around, then carried her over to the rope ladder. “Here.” He moved her hands to a rung above her head. “Hold on tight.”

“Why?” She curled her fists around the rope.

“I’m going to play with you until you scream.” He plunged a hand between them, and she jolted when his hand cupped her.

Good goddesses, it was hard to breathe. With a moan, she squeezed her eyes shut and hung on to the rope. His fingers moved over her, stroking gently.

“Rupert,” she groaned.

“Keep holding.” His fingers grew bolder, exploring until she was panting and squirming.

When he inserted a finger, she cried out, the rope twisting in her hands. He waggled the finger inside her while his thumb rubbed against a spot that made her quiver all over.

“Rupert!” She tensed suddenly as if she were on the edge of a waterfall. Her grip on the rope failed, but he pulled her toward him just as a wave carried her over the falls. Her scream echoed around the cave. She was crashing, soaring, tumbling through a wild tempest. She squeezed him tight and felt herself throbbing against his hand.

“Sweet,” he whispered once again.

As her eyes slowly came into focus, she realized he was still holding her, his hand now gently stroking her back. She wasn’t sure why her body had shattered like that, or if it was even normal, but one thing was clear. When she was with Rupert, she thoroughly enjoyed being ravished.

*

An hour or so later, Rupert glanced up at the ledge where Brigitta was. It was quiet, so he assumed she’d fallen asleep on the pile of furs.

After their lovemaking, he’d suggested she climb up the ladder to the ledge so she could rest. Then he’d busied himself in the grotto, trying to take his mind off a painful erection.

First he’d stacked some driftwood and dry grass in the fire pit and used the lantern to set it ablaze. Once the fire was well established, he’d extinguished the lantern to save the oil. He and Brigitta would need it later in order to leave the cave. Then he lay out her wet clothes on rocks not too far from the fire, hoping the heat would help them dry.

While he worked, he considered what to do now that Brigitta knew his true identity. After nineteen years of trusting no one, it was difficult to trust her. He wanted to. Deep inside, he suspected that was one of the reasons why he’d jumped her. It had been his way to lay claim to her so she wouldn’t betray him.

He doubted she would betray him intentionally, but he couldn’t risk her being around her brother. If Gunther thought she knew the true identity of the infamous pirate Rupert, he would stop at nothing to wheedle that information out of her. Knowing too much made her a danger to herself as much as to him.

Her offer to help had tugged at his heart, but how could he, in clear conscience, allow her to assist him? His plan involved battles and bloodshed. Much too dangerous for her.

He peeled off his wet breeches and stretched them out to dry next to Brigitta’s clothes. Then he swam over to the ladder and climbed to the ledge.

She was there, wrapped in a blanket, sound asleep, and his heart squeezed at the sight of her. He couldn’t risk losing her. When she’d confessed that she loved him, a startling realization had shot through him.

If he lost her, there would be no victory. Even if he won his revenge and gained the throne, it would all be meaningless without her.

And so, he’d reached out to her. And she’d responded so beautifully, melting in his arms and shattering with his touch. Even now, he wanted to rip off her blanket and make love all over again.

He winced as his cock swelled once more. He’d had more erections in the past five days than his entire life. He pulled a blanket up to his waist, then stretched out beside her. Just a short rest, he told himself, while their clothes dried.