so trustingly beside him.
When he claimed her, he wanted to make sure his hands would be gentle on her delicate flesh, that his kiss be soft and teasing and not the demanding bruising he visited upon those who had come before her. He would take her with tenderness, restraint, and respect. He would give her no reason to regret her decision to give herself to him.
Amber-lea stroked his bearded face. "You are afraid you will hurt me."
He kissed her palm, then lowered her hand to his naked chest. "It will hurt you, Sweeting. I can't help that."
"I know," she whispered.
"But I will be as gentle as I can." He threaded his fingers through hers and tightly held her hand.
She smiled. "I know you will, Milord."
He was lying on his side, his head propped on his fist. She was stretched out beside him, her ivory bosom rising and falling faster with each passing minute, and he thought of a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter.
"You make my shaft ache with want of you, Amber-lea. Do you know that?" His words were meant to soothe her, prepare her for his entry.
She blushed and lowered her gaze. The hollow at the base of her throat pulsed wildly. "I want nothing more than to please you, Milord."
He placed the backs of his fingers against her heated cheek. "So young," he said with a sigh, rubbing her jaw line. "So young and so beautiful." He cupped her chin, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her lightly, at each corner of her lips, in the center, then moved away. "And your mouth tastes of strawberry wine."
She tucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit down, as if to keep from groaning at the sensations rippling through her body.
He ran his thumb over her lips. "Don't do that." He pulled her lips apart, grazed the pad of his thumb over her white teeth.
She groaned, her body quivering. Her breath came in quick little pants.
He smiled, knowing full well what his touch was doing to her, but in no hurry to consummate their agreement. He would not rush this pretty flower nor submit her to the baser side of his nature.
"I could lie here all night and look at you," he said, his eyes roaming over her flesh. "You are one of the most beautiful women I've ever known."
Amber-lea shivered, his words obviously thrilling her yet making her more nervous.
"And one my body is dying to know better," he said huskily.
He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, each eye before slanting his mouth firmly across hers. His tongue slipped possessively between her lips.
She moaned, her breath coming fast and furious as his tongue probed deeper. She fanned her fingers through his thick hair and gripped him. Her hold was so tight it hurt him.
With a grunt of passion, he slid his hard body atop hers. With his knees, he pushed her legs apart until he was settled between them, his shaft pressing along her thigh.
When she groaned, he released her mouth and looked into her eyes. His muscles strained, quivered as he denied himself the ultimate release of his passion. His gentle ministrations had worked him to a fever pitch and he was nearly exploding with want of fulfillment.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Relax," he whispered, grinding his hips across hers. "Just feel me touching you."
Amber-lea looked as if she wanted nothing more than to have him thrust quickly into her and be done with the pain so the pleasuring could begin.
Conar grinned. "You are a horny little imp, ain't ya, Milady?"
Her face turned bright red. He threw his head back and laughed, the joy of the moment almost as wonderful as the sweetness of her pliant flesh beneath him.
"I want you," she managed to say, her lips trembling. "Sweet Merciful Alel, I want you, Milord!"
He smiled. "And you shall have me, but not quite yet." Her groan of disappointment was nearly his undoing; it was all he could do not to ram into her and be done with it. His body trembled with need, his shaft thick and throbbing painfully. A fine sheen of sweat had popped out on both their
When he claimed her, he wanted to make sure his hands would be gentle on her delicate flesh, that his kiss be soft and teasing and not the demanding bruising he visited upon those who had come before her. He would take her with tenderness, restraint, and respect. He would give her no reason to regret her decision to give herself to him.
Amber-lea stroked his bearded face. "You are afraid you will hurt me."
He kissed her palm, then lowered her hand to his naked chest. "It will hurt you, Sweeting. I can't help that."
"I know," she whispered.
"But I will be as gentle as I can." He threaded his fingers through hers and tightly held her hand.
She smiled. "I know you will, Milord."
He was lying on his side, his head propped on his fist. She was stretched out beside him, her ivory bosom rising and falling faster with each passing minute, and he thought of a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughter.
"You make my shaft ache with want of you, Amber-lea. Do you know that?" His words were meant to soothe her, prepare her for his entry.
She blushed and lowered her gaze. The hollow at the base of her throat pulsed wildly. "I want nothing more than to please you, Milord."
He placed the backs of his fingers against her heated cheek. "So young," he said with a sigh, rubbing her jaw line. "So young and so beautiful." He cupped her chin, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her lightly, at each corner of her lips, in the center, then moved away. "And your mouth tastes of strawberry wine."
She tucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit down, as if to keep from groaning at the sensations rippling through her body.
He ran his thumb over her lips. "Don't do that." He pulled her lips apart, grazed the pad of his thumb over her white teeth.
She groaned, her body quivering. Her breath came in quick little pants.
He smiled, knowing full well what his touch was doing to her, but in no hurry to consummate their agreement. He would not rush this pretty flower nor submit her to the baser side of his nature.
"I could lie here all night and look at you," he said, his eyes roaming over her flesh. "You are one of the most beautiful women I've ever known."
Amber-lea shivered, his words obviously thrilling her yet making her more nervous.
"And one my body is dying to know better," he said huskily.
He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, each eye before slanting his mouth firmly across hers. His tongue slipped possessively between her lips.
She moaned, her breath coming fast and furious as his tongue probed deeper. She fanned her fingers through his thick hair and gripped him. Her hold was so tight it hurt him.
With a grunt of passion, he slid his hard body atop hers. With his knees, he pushed her legs apart until he was settled between them, his shaft pressing along her thigh.
When she groaned, he released her mouth and looked into her eyes. His muscles strained, quivered as he denied himself the ultimate release of his passion. His gentle ministrations had worked him to a fever pitch and he was nearly exploding with want of fulfillment.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Relax," he whispered, grinding his hips across hers. "Just feel me touching you."
Amber-lea looked as if she wanted nothing more than to have him thrust quickly into her and be done with the pain so the pleasuring could begin.
Conar grinned. "You are a horny little imp, ain't ya, Milady?"
Her face turned bright red. He threw his head back and laughed, the joy of the moment almost as wonderful as the sweetness of her pliant flesh beneath him.
"I want you," she managed to say, her lips trembling. "Sweet Merciful Alel, I want you, Milord!"
He smiled. "And you shall have me, but not quite yet." Her groan of disappointment was nearly his undoing; it was all he could do not to ram into her and be done with it. His body trembled with need, his shaft thick and throbbing painfully. A fine sheen of sweat had popped out on both their
Similar Books
