Page 47 of The Warrior's Innocent Captive

For a moment she thought he would refuse. She studied the trencher in front of her, hoping that, in the dim candlelight, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush she could feel flooding across her face.

She heard him release a long breath and then move across the room. She darted a quick glance across at him as he lowered himself to the ground, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He didn’t look comfortable and her heart twisted. Something was wrong and he didn’t trust her enough to tell her.

‘Linota.’

She looked up in surprise. He sounded pained. Their gazes met and held.

Her pulse pounded in her throat.

‘I...’ he said.

She waited, but it seemed as if his words had failed him. His gaze flickered from her eyes and down over the rest of her body. Even without experience she could read the intent in his look. Her stomach fluttered with a very different kind of hunger.

He leaned towards her, then stopped. Her fingers itched with the need to reach up and touch the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the curve of his sharp cheekbone.

He remained still, no longer in his space but not quite in hers either.

She nodded.

She felt his soft groan against her lips.

The touch, as soft and gentle as a breeze, lit a fire within her. It rushed over her skin, burning her nervousness away. She wanted him. Not just this chaste kiss, but more.

The space between them seemed cavernous; it would not do.

She felt his grunt of surprise as she pulled him against her. She didn’t want to give him time to think. She pressed her mouth against his and hoped he would take charge.

She didn’t know what happened next between a man and a woman, didn’t know how to make him lose control. She only knew that she wanted to continue, to see whether the flames licking along her veins would burn brighter or fade away.

For an agonising moment he held still and then he moved, sliding his fingers into her hair at the base of her neck and tilting her head. She gasped as his tongue swept along the seam of her lips and then into her mouth as she opened to him.

His tongue touched hers and fire inside her burned brighter. She pulled on his tunic and he half fell on her. The delicious weight of him pressed her to the floor. His kiss deepened. She heard the soft thud of her wine glass tipping over, but she didn’t care. This moment was all about him and how he made her body burn.

His mouth left hers and his lips ran along the edge of her jaw and down the skin of her neck, his stubble scraping exquisitely against her skin.

She ran her fingers over his soft, silky hair and lightly traced her nails over the skin on the back of his neck.

His fingers were at the ties of her tunic and she copied him by tugging at his.

‘Linota,’ he whispered before claiming her mouth again.

This time their kisses were wilder, nearly frantic. She moved her tongue in rhythm with his and he groaned, pulling her tunic off and throwing it to the side.

She tried to do the same with his, but she couldn’t get it past his shoulder. She felt his smile against her mouth, but he didn’t lift his head as he shrugged out of it.

She heard it drop to the floor and then his hands returned to her body.

She arched into him as one strong hand skimmed the length of her back. She was desperate to feel the skin of his chest. She realised she was pulling at him when she heard him grunt.

He lifted his head slightly and gazed down at her. His pupils were almost completely black.

‘We shouldn’t,’ he whispered.

She didn’t want to hear that. She didn’t want his conscience intruding on this moment. All she wanted was to feel his skin against hers. To know that he was as insensible as she was in this moment.

She lifted her head and pressed her lips to his, her tongue flicking over the softness of them.

It had the desired effect. He opened to her and within moments the frantic desire returned.

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