The Raider (Highland Guard #8)(92)

Robbie didn’t snap or lose control; he simply threw the reins up in the air and let them fall where they may. He’d had enough. He would have her and be damned.

Twenty-one

Robbie drew her into his arms and did what he’d been aching to do since the moment she’d walked into the room. His mouth fell on hers with a deep groan. It was as if a dam had broken and all the passion, all the emotion, all the desire he’d bottled up inside was set free the instant his lips touched hers.

God, they were soft. And so damned sweet he didn’t know how he could have resisted for so long. Why had he? If there were voices in his head trying to remind him, he wasn’t listening to them anymore.

He was too busy kissing her. Tasting her. Sliding his tongue deep into her mouth with long, slow strokes that she parried with strokes of her own.

It was incredible. The lass was a quick learner, God help him.

He could have gone on kissing her like this forever. But the longer and more thoroughly he kissed her, the fiercer her response grew and the hotter his blood fired. Heat radiated off him. And then there was that other pounding, the one against his stomach that was growing harder with every stroke.

He could taste her need, her hunger, feel the urgency building, and it sent flames licking through every corner of his body. The moans, the little whimpers echoed in his ears, ripping what control he had left to shreds. She was clutching his arms, his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but their bodies were already plastered as close as they could be without…

He swore against her mouth. Once the image was there it would not be dislodged. Skin to skin. Naked tangled limbs. Sweaty sheets. Him sinking inside her. The ultimate closeness. She wanted that. And God, he wanted it, too.

Swinging her up in his arms, he carried her over to the bed. He broke the kiss only long enough to set her down and slide in next to her. He wasn’t going to give either of them time to think.

Perhaps she had the same thought, because the moment her head touched the pillow she was reaching for him again. Circling her hands around his neck to bring his mouth down on hers. Bring him down on top of her. He let her feel his weight while he savored the incredible feel of that soft, curvy body under his.

But it wasn’t enough. Not now. Not with the image blaring in his head. He was moving faster now. His lips slid to her jaw, her neck, to the tender place below her ear that made her shiver, to her throat, and finally to her br**sts.

The rapid beat of her heart and uneven catching of her breath hammered in his ears, egging him on faster and faster. Too fast. But she didn’t seem to care. She was right there with him.

Her hands were in his hair as he worked the laces of her gown and then her shift—neither of which garments he’d ever seen before. Only the thought of having to explain to Joanna how they’d become ripped prevented him from tearing both off her.

“Hurry,” she breathed, her impatience matching his own.

He muttered an expletive. Christ, she was killing him. His normally deft fingers felt twice as big and were practically shaking. Hell, they were shaking. So much for experience. When it came to Rosalin this was all new.

No skin had ever felt so soft, no lips had ever tasted so sweet, no one had ever smelled so damned good, and no woman had ever made him this hot.

But it was more than that, and he knew it. Even if he didn’t want to think about it. For the first time in his life, he was making love to a woman with more than his cock.

Finally, he had both the gown and chemise underneath loose enough to take her beautiful br**sts in his mouth. He cupped her, squeezing gently as his lips closed over one taut nipple. He sucked it gently, circling it with his tongue and plucking it between his teeth. She gave a soft cry and arched into his mouth, her fingers tightening their grip on his hair. His whole scalp tingled as pleasure poured over him in a hot wave, dragging him under.

He wanted to strip her naked and worship every inch of that creamy white skin. But he wasn’t going to last five minutes. Not like this. Though he had to at least try.

“Oh God, Robbie…”

The soft plea took his intentions to go slow and ground them to dust. He gave her what she wanted and sucked her hard into his mouth. She was so beautiful, so damned responsive, it drove him wild. He couldn’t get enough of her. He ravished her br**sts with his lips and tongue. Teasing, laving, sucking until he felt her body tremble with the promise of pleasure.

He wasn’t going to make her wait.

Rosalin knew what she was doing—she hoped. It was the biggest gamble of her life. But the reward…

The reward would be a lifetime of happiness.

He loved her. She was sure of it. It was right there in his kiss. She’d pushed him with far more confidence than she’d felt. She’d never seen him so near the end of his rope. Yet when he kissed her, instead of rough and punishing, his lips had been soft and gentle. Did he realize how he cradled her against him? How his big, battle-hardened hands caressed her skin as if she were a delicate piece of porcelain?

She had to make him see the truth before it was too late. She’d already offered him her heart, so she’d gambled with the only thing she had left: her body.

On some level she knew it was a fool’s wager, that she should value her virtue more highly, and that if he truly cared for her, she would not need to prove her love. But on the other hand, nothing had ever seemed more natural—or right. And somewhat brazenly, she admitted that she wanted the experience for herself. That no matter what the result, she wanted to know what it felt like to be joined with the man she loved.