The Recruit (Highland Guard #6)(33)

It didn’t feel illicit. It didn’t feel wicked. It felt … right.

No! She felt a stab of fear, wishing she could tell him to go back to the table. Wishing he’d never stopped. Wishing he’d just let the passion explode between them and be done with it.

He pressed a soft kiss on her mouth, still looking into her eyes.

His gaze hypnotized. He was entrancing her, putting her under some kind of spell, making her think, making her believe, that this was somehow special.

One night.

His finger traced her cheek and dipped down to behind her ear. “Your veil,” he said huskily. “Can you put it back on by yourself?”

She nodded. “Why?”

She had her answer when he started to pull the pins from her hair. A moment later her veil was tossed to the side.

He drew in his breath.

Her gaze shot to his, and what she saw there made her turn away, shying from the unexpected pleasure. Her hair had been her one vanity. But it had been hidden for so long, she’d wondered if a man would still find it pretty. If his expression was any indication, the answer was yes.

She could feel the weight of his scrutiny as his fingers ran through the long waves.

“It’s a sin to cover something so beautiful.” His voice was almost reverent. After a moment, he cupped her chin, turning her gaze to his. “What else are you hiding, my Mary?”

She shook her head wordlessly, something in his voice causing her to panic. This was a man who could uncover secrets. Who could dig up emotions buried a long time ago. My Mary … “Nothing,” she managed in a gasp.

He didn’t believe her. “We shall see.”

And then he kissed her, turning that gasp of panic into one of pleasure.

She could taste his intent. He kissed her like a man with a purpose. This wasn’t a kiss meant to seduce but one that was already certain of the end. Bold. Fierce. Carnal. He was taking what he wanted, yet giving her everything in return. He kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he was never going to let her go.

Her body responded as if there had never been an interruption. All the passion he’d roused in her returned full force. She slid her hand around his neck, bringing more of his weight down on top of her.

His erection was pressing against her thigh, but he shifted, nudging it closer to the place she wanted it.

She must have cried out. He growled in response, his movements quickening, becoming more frenzied. He slid his hand along the curve of her hips and she arched against him like a cat.

Who was this woman? What had he done to her?

His kiss slid from her mouth, down her chin and to her throat. “You’re so sweet.” His voice sounded tight, strained.

She could hear the sounds of her breathing in her ears but was too overcome to care. She couldn’t seem to do anything but writhe in restless anticipation as his mouth burned a trail down her throat and his hands singed an equally hot path over her body. He knew exactly where to touch her. His hands were on her hips, her stomach, the curve at her waist, and then—finally then—her breast.

He cupped her, squeezed, molded her into his hand, and she moaned at the absolute wonder of it.

His mouth had descended as far down her bodice as the modest gown would allow him to go. “God, I wish we had more time,” he murmured. “I want you naked.” A memory of his bare chest flashed before her eyes. She shuddered at the thought of all that hot, tanned skin against her. He lifted his head to look into her eyes. “I want to see these pretty ni**les before I take them in my mouth.”

He placed his mouth right on the spot he was talking about. She gasped, feeling the damp heat right through the silk and linen.

She arched into his mouth, and she heard him swear again as he sucked. Sucked hard. Sucked so she could feel the sweet tightness around her nipple and shimmery needles of pleasure shot to her toes. She started to moan, soft, urgent sounds that she’d never made before.

He made a harsh sound and pulled away. “God, you’re killing me,” he said, before returning his mouth to hers for a fierce kiss.

He was moving faster now, with none of the smooth finesse he’d exhibited before. His movements were harsh and stiff, almost clumsy. He was showing none of the detached control she’d witnessed in the barn. Could she really be doing this to him?

He loosened his tunic, fumbled with the ties of his breeches and braies, and worked the edge of her gown up over her hips.

Breaking the kiss, he leaned over her. A slump of dark hair hung forward across his brow, and she fought the urge to tuck it back. His eyes were dark and burning with the same emotion she’d seen in them when he’d taken himself to release with his hand: lust.

For me.

“I need to be inside you.”

His hand dipped between her legs, and she gasped. The gentle brush of his finger against the sensitive, quivering flesh sent a thousand shivers racing up her spine.

“You’re so hot,” he groaned.

Whatever embarrassment she might have felt at his words was erased when his finger slipped inside her. She jolted at the exquisite stroke.

“I knew you’d be like this.” He groaned again. “You’re made for this, little one.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about, but the finger stroking inside her felt too good for her to care. Something strange was happening. The needs of her body had taken over. The quivering intensified to a pulse, and then to an insistent throbbing. She felt as if she were climbing, reaching for something she couldn’t see.