The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(70)

She thought he was going to deny her request when he said with a simple nod, “As you wish.”

He removed his leine and she sucked in her breath. Heavens, he was glorious! Every bit as spectacular as she remembered. A fortress of masculine beauty and strength. Every inch of flesh honed to firm, hard muscle. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his arms thick and defined. His stomach rippled with band upon band of sharply molded steel. How was it that he seemed even bigger and broader without his clothes and armor?

She didn’t know where she wanted to put her hands first.

But it was the sight of his prominent erection that sent warm tingles of awareness prickling between her legs. The bold evidence of his desire thrilled her. Thick and long, the round head plump and swollen. So brutally—undeniably—masculine. It rose against his stomach, growing under her wanton perusal. The thin skin pulled so tight it seemed to shine like marble.

Now she knew exactly where she wanted her hands.

“Careful, lass,” he warned darkly, his voice dangerous and seductive at the same time. “Look at me like that and you might get more than you bargained for.”

A flush of pleasure surged through for her, realizing her admiration excited him. “Can I touch you?” she blurted, asking what she’d never dared before.

His stomach muscles clenched. Fisting his hands at his side, he nodded. “Aye.”

She rolled on her knees so that she was kneeling before him. Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingertips down the hard ridges of his stomach.

He hissed, the muscles jumping at the feather-soft touch. She bit her lip to stop the smile, marveling at the ability to invoke such a reaction with a simple touch.

Ever so gently she ran her finger along the long length of his manhood. Her lips parted in surprise. The skin was so soft. Like velvet. But underneath, the rigid column was as steely as the rest of him.

She explored him with her fingers and then, growing bolder, with her hand, circling him, though unable to close around him completely.

He groaned at every touch, seemingly in agony.

She let go, gazing up at him hesitantly. “Am I doing something wrong?”

He shook his head. She could see the muscles in his neck and shoulders bunch and strain. “God, no,” he said tightly. “Keep doing what you’re doing.” He put his hand over hers and showed her how to hold him. He looked into her eyes, letting her see the depth of his desire. “Ah, that’s it, Tina, stroke me.”

Tina. She liked it. It was almost an endearment.

Holding his gaze, she did. Something passed between them. Something that went beyond the erotic sensuality of the moment, heightening every touch, every movement.

She watched the pleasure roll over his features as she gripped him tight in her hand and pumped. Slow at first, then faster as the passion built on his handsome face.

A strange sense of power surged through her, knowing that she had the ability to do this to him. To take him to such amazing heights. Surely, it meant something? Surely, this was special?

He was hot and throbbing under her palm. She could feel the blood pound and pound, until she felt a powerful pulse. He tore her hand away with a growl. A pearly drop emerged from the tip. She felt the most peculiar urge to bend down and lick it. To taste him fully.

“No more. I need to be inside you.”

His voice was tight and urgent. She’d never seen him like this. Before his passion had been fierce and hot, but always controlled. But now she sensed the control slipping, sensed him warring with something inside him. He was so close to letting go.

One more push. Then maybe the barrier between them would shatter. Boldness had worked before. Setting aside modesty, she slowly lifted her chemise over her head and tossed it to the side. Resisting the urge to cover herself with her arms, she knelt before him naked. “Then take me.”

Tor was fighting to hold on, but she pushed and pushed him closer to the edge with her innocent eagerness. Giving. He’d never met a woman so giving.

From behind. Hell. Even with the most experienced of bed partners it was not a base pleasure in which he usually indulged, and certainly nothing he’d dared imagine—despite their first encounter—with his sheltered bride. But she surprised him again and again.

From the first wicked request to take her from behind, to the heat of her erotic gaze on his cock, to the blessed pleasure of her milking him in her sweet little hand, he struggled for control. Struggled to stop himself from tossing her down on the bed and giving her exactly what she asked for—every bit as rough and gritty as he liked it.

But when she slid her chemise over her head, revealing every creamy inch of her naked skin, he lost it. Any pretense of control fell away, landing on the floor beside her gown.

The memories of her lush body had teased him in the darkness, but memories could not compare to seeing her in the flesh. To having every glorious inch of that baby-soft skin revealed in the warm glow of candlelight.

Stunning. Seductive. More beautiful than any woman should be. A nymph with her long dark hair tumbling around her shoulders in glorious waves as she knelt before him, her br**sts full and lush, tipped with the most succulent ni**les he’d ever tasted. Against the pale cream of her skin the delicate pink looked even more delectably tempting.

In the candlelight he couldn’t escape the beauty of her body, and most of all her eyes. They held him and wouldn’t let go. Dark and luminous, full of tenderness and emotion he didn’t want to see.