The Saint (Highland Guard #5)(83)

Her eyes widened. “Nun, that’s what I was going to say.” Nun. Virgin. What difference did it make? “Just once,” she pleaded. “Just once can’t you kiss me—touch me—like you did them? Or do you not feel the same for me?”

Her gaze met his, challenging, but also uncertain. It was the uncertainty that did him in.

Damn her. He was past caring. All the desire, all the lust he’d held in check came bursting forward in a hot rush. He was a man, not a saint. If she wanted raw and base, he was going to give it to her. Even if he had to go to hell afterward.

He slid his hand down to cup her bottom, hauling her against him.

She gasped at the forcefulness of the contact.

“Do you feel my passion for you, Helen? It’s nothing like I felt for them. God, do you have any idea how badly I want you?” Her eyes widened, but he didn’t care. She’d put this game in motion; she’d see it through to the end. He took her hand and guided it to him, wrapping her fingers around his thickness. Despite his anger, he groaned at the sensation, pulsing harder. “One little pump in that dainty little hand of yours and I would explode. But as fine as that sounds, that’s not what I really want.”

He pushed her back against the rocks that had hidden her a few moments ago, pinning her with his weight.

He didn’t kiss her. Not yet. Instead, his lips and tongue found the velvety-soft skin of her neck and throat. He devoured—ravished, the hard flutter of her heartbeat urging him on.

Her breath started to hitch as his hand moved over her body, claiming every inch of her. He cupped her breast, his mouth right by her ear. “You know what I really want?”

He took her nipple between his fingertips, twisting it gently to a tight bud.

She shook her head, her breath coming fast.

He was hot and aroused, and past the point of restraint. There was no rein on his passion now. Nothing to hold him back.

His mouth dipped lower, to the edge of her bodice. He pushed the fabric aside just enough to let his tongue flick out and lick the hard bead of her nipple.

She startled, but her gasp of surprise turned to a moan of pleasure when he took her between this teeth and sucked. She was arching and pressing against him so hard he almost forgot his question. Her br**sts were incredible. Plump and soft, with just the right amount of weight. Her ni**les were tight and berry pink. He swirled his tongue around the delectable little tip one more time before releasing her.

“I want to come inside you. I want to feel that tight little glove between your legs gripping me. I want you wet and hot, and quivering. I want you to scream my name as I’m deep inside you.”

She seemed to be holding her breath as she waited for what he would do next. Maybe she even anticipated it. He slid his hand down her hip, down her leg, and under the edge of her gown. He groaned when his hand met the soft bare skin of her leg.

Her lips parted. Her eyes lost focus. Her breath hitched. Desire. She was flush with it. He wanted to draw it out. Tease her a little more. Have her begging for him to touch her. But he couldn’t wait. Blood pounded through his veins, the soft scent of her feminine need an irresistible aphrodisiac.

She wanted talking? He’d talk until she begged for him to stop.

“Are you wet for me, Helen?” he drawled huskily.

The blush that rose to her cheeks made him chuckle.

“I take it that’s a yes?”

She nodded.

His hand skimmed the delicate skin of her inner thigh, achingly close to that dampness. “Tell me what you want.”

He kissed her throat again, dragging a trail of kisses up to the corner of her mouth. He could feel her restlessness, feel her body shaking with need for his touch.

“Touch me,” she breathed. “I want you to touch me.”

He gave her what she wanted, sweeping his finger over the silky flesh. A deep shudder ran through him at the contact. She was so warm and wet, he couldn’t wait to be inside her. But not yet.

“Is that all you want?”

Frustrated with desire, Helen shot him a glare and shook her head.

He laughed and slipped his finger inside the tight, wet heat.

The gasp she made went right to his already swollen groin.

He closed his eyes and let the rush of sensations crash over him. Savoring the moment. He dipped inside her again. Deeper. Stretching her gently with his fingers. “You’re so tight,” he managed from between clenched teeth. “But you feel so good.”

He plunged again, and she gave a soft moan of pleasure. Her eyes fluttered at half-mast. Her cheeks were pink with pleasure and her lips …

God, he couldn’t wait another minute to taste those too-red lips.

The next time he stroked her, he smothered her moan with his mouth.

Helen’s heart slammed into her chest when his mouth finally covered hers. He did not hold back. His lips claimed hers possessively. Fiercely. Urgently. Demanding her response. Just like his hand. His fingers were stroking her even as his tongue slid into her mouth, plunging deep and purposefully, claiming every corner of it.

She felt her heart soar. This was the promise of passion she’d felt in the forest brought to fruition. The passion of which she’d always dreamed. He kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her. As if he’d die if he couldn’t have her.

She wrapped her tongue around his and opened her mouth wider, responding to the carnal invitation.