The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(65)

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 br**sts of hers arched closer to his mouth.

Her br**sts had been a surprise. He was beginning to think he might have made an oversight in not giving small br**sts 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 ni**les …

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 c**k 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.