The Recruit (Highland Guard #6)(34)

“That’s it,” he said encouragingly. “Let it come, love. Let it come.”

The soft endearment broke through the haze of her pleasure, but she pushed it away. It doesn’t mean anything.

But she hadn’t expected this bold, wicked warrior to be so … tender.

His finger was plunging in and out. Her hips rose on their own to meet the heel of his hand. He pressed against her, murmuring words in her ear. “That’s it, love. Fly.”

Looking into his eyes, she froze, startled by the intensity of sensation that gripped her. Their eyes held for one long heartbeat before they closed as the sensation exploded inside her in a hot, pulsing spasm. She was flying. Soaring in a dreamy world of sensation. The pleasure was indescribable. So much more than she’d imagined. But she couldn’t hold on to it. All too soon it was fading away.

She opened her eyes, seeing him leaning over her. His gaze was hot with an emotion she couldn’t read.

“You’re beautiful,” he said fiercely.

She smothered the flare of feminine pleasure. It didn’t mean anything. He probably said that to all the women.

Except she couldn’t recall him saying it to the woman in the barn.

He moved over her, leveraging his chest over hers. She fought the urge to glance down, filled with very unmaidenly curiosity.

She sucked in her breath, feeling the blunt tip of his manhood probing her entrance.

She steeled herself for the pain.

“Relax,” he said. “I told you I’d be gentle.”

She blushed. How could that be gentle? Long sword indeed. A steel long sword!

But after a moment she believed him. He rubbed the tip of himself against her until she started to relax.

The quivering started again. Her breath began to quicken. She watched his face in the semidarkness. The aggressive masculine jaw clenched and determined, the sensual mouth tight, the sharp blue eyes piercing, the strain that tensed his muscles.

It was killing him to go slow. But he was doing it for her.

The gentleness confused her. It wasn’t what she expected from him. It wasn’t what she wanted from him. “Now,” she told him.

If he was surprised by her demand, his body was too eager to argue with her. Slowly, he started to push inside, using the dampness of her body to ease his way.

Her eyes widened as her body stretched to accommodate him.

She thought it would hurt. It should hurt. But instead she realized it felt … amazing. He filled her in a way she’d never been filled before. Every incredible inch was a possession. A claiming. A fist of heat pulsing inside her.

Oh God, yes. This was it! This was what she’d been waiting for. Mary couldn’t wait to feel him move, to feel him thrusting inside her. All that lust. All that raw passion she’d witnessed in the barn.

Except he wasn’t doing that at all. He was holding perfectly still—achingly still—staring at her with a look on his face that made her heart tug. It was a strange mix of surprise and confusion. And he seemed to be looking deep into her eyes for the answer.

Something sharp and poignant passed between them. Something beautiful and impossible. Something that had no place in a fantasy of sin.

Instinctively she wanted to turn from it. But she couldn’t seem to break the connection.

Finally, when she thought she couldn’t bear the intensity another moment, he started to move. The first thrust sent a shock wave of sensation exploding up her spine. She gasped at the wonder of it. At the all-encompassing pleasure that swept over her with each exquisite stroke.

He groaned, closing his eyes and tipping back his head as if the pleasure had overwhelmed him as well. “God, you feel good,” he said with another groan, as his hips lifted and sank again, the slow, circular motion reverberating through her.

She gripped him harder, fighting to hold on as wave after powerful wave of sensation threatened to drag her under. She wanted to close her eyes and give over to the pleasure.

But he wouldn’t let her. His gaze held hers in its intimate embrace, not letting go. The intensity of it stole her breath. She felt her heart squeezing.

No! This wasn’t what she wanted. This was all wrong. She didn’t want emotion. Her chest wasn’t supposed to squeeze. It was too intimate. Too gentle. Too sweet.

He was supposed to be a fantasy, but this felt too real, tapping emotions she’d buried long ago.

If only he would stop looking at her.

She had to do something. Focus on something else. She almost wished she was on her hands and knees like the woman in the barn. She wasn’t that bold, but she had another thought and blurted, “Will you take off your tunic?”

Kenneth felt as if he’d entered another world. A world that was entirely new. A world where all his previous experience counted for shite. He was sailing blind and without an anchor. It was unsettling and exhilarating at the same time.

He liked swiving. Liked it a lot. Hell, even when it wasn’t great it was still damned good. And when it was good there was nothing like it.

But this …

This was unlike anything he’d experienced. Something about it resonated. Hell, everything about it resonated. From the moment he’d entered her it had felt different. The pleasure had been acute. The pure mind-numbing bliss of sinking into all that warm, soft flesh and feeling her body grip him like a glove. A very wet, very tight, very hot glove. He’d felt a powerful bolt of sensation right to the tip of his cock.