Page 93 of Laird of Steel
And just as he’d given her proof of his longing, she wanted to return the favor. She reached down to guide his hand slowly over her hip, across her ribs, and higher, until he cupped her breast.
His shaky sigh sent a thrill of power through her. He spread his fingers across the linen, warming the flesh beneath. Then he brushed his thumb across her nipple, awakening it like lightning.
She sobbed at the sensation. And yet it was still not enough.
With reckless abandon, she dragged down the neck edge of her kirtle and underdress, exposing her breast first to the cold night air. Then to the man who sought to warm her within the comforting palm of his hand.
His mouth tore away from hers, and she gasped at the sudden emptiness. But he resumed, leaving a trail of kisses along her jaw. Down the side of her neck. Warming her blood. Making her shiver with delight. He traced her collar bone with his lips and then ventured lower. Knowing where he was bound, she waited in breathless anticipation.
With the edge of his thumb, he flicked her puckered nipple and then lowered his head to enclose the sensitive nubbin within his mouth. The wet heat of his swirling tongue washed over her like a heavenly wave. The pressure as he sucked gently drew a rasping gasp from her.
Her head swam. Her knees weakened. She felt a dull ache deep in her womb. And an envious throbbing in her other nipple.
As if he could read her thoughts, he reached up with his free hand and slid his fingers under the shoulder of her kirtle. Inch by inch, he eased the garment down, placing a kiss each time another bit of skin was revealed.
She closed her eyes tightly in simultaneous frustration and pleasure.
When her nipple popped free of its confines, he swooped down on it at once, bathing it with adoring attention while fondling its twin.
Her legs trembled beneath her, threatening to collapse. Her head grew dizzy with bliss. Lost in a fog of lust and longing, she was utterly at his mercy.
How had she become so defenseless? With a sword in her hand, she had always managed to stand up to men. To give as good as she got. How could she be so easily conquered with a kiss and a caress?
Perhaps it was time to fight fire with fire.
While he pleasured her breasts, she slipped one intrepid hand between them and over his braies. There she found and captured his cock.
The harsh gasp he sucked in gave her a heady thrill.
He made no move to prevent her. So she rubbed her hand experimentally over him. The thick hardness sheathed in his braies reminded her of the wooden haft of a fine sword. Curious to know more, she gripped him, running her palm over his length.
He groaned and reared back his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if in pain.
But she knew it was only the pain of yearning. The same pain she endured.
Letting her fingers crawl upwards, she found the lacings of his braies and pulled loose the tie. Then she delved beneath the cloth to find the treasure below.
He shuddered when she plunged her fingers through his coarse curls and enveloped his naked flesh.
She expected his steely strength. But his velvety warmth was astonishing. Powerful and fragile at the same time.
He throbbed in the palm of her hand.
She felt an answering throb where her legs joined.
His breathing was strained and rapid.
Her smile was sultry and triumphant.
But her victory didn’t last long.
While she fondled his enticing length, he shocked her by sliding a firm hand between her thighs. She squeaked in surprise. But as he glided his hand over the crevice there, her protest soon turned into mews of approval.
He knew precisely where she ached. Exactly what kind of pressure to exert.
Still, he wasn’t finished. Despite her continued attentions to his pulsing member, he kept enough of his wits about him to begin inching up her kirtle. He gathered her skirts in his fist, lifting the hem higher and higher. Exposing her ankles. Her knees. Her thighs.
When he ran out of fabric, he slipped his fingers through the down guarding her womanhood and pressed the heel of his hand against the bone there.
