Page 40 of The Shipwreck
He groaned with pleasure as she had her way with him, riding him like a steed, grinding against his hips with a demanding rhythm that pushed him with reckless speed to the brink of passion.
If it hadn’t been such a long time, if she hadn’t caught him unawares, if he hadn’t been so utterly swept away by his own needs, he would have forced her to slow down.But like a boy trysting for the first time, he was beyond reason and out of control.
Almost before he could draw another breath, the blood began to simmer in his veins.A flash like hot lightning seared his skin.The tide of desire rose in him, raging like a flood, filling him with need, and then bursting free in a quenching rush.
With a bellow of ecstasy, he arched up into her welcoming womb, pulsing out waves of molten fire.He heard her sigh in response, and when he was able to gaze at her from beneath his heavy lids, Brandr glimpsed intoxicating triumph on her face.
He shuddered with the power of his release while she replied with a throaty, pleased chuckle.And then, unable to formulate coherent thoughts, much less words, he simply lay beneath her, panting like a winded warhorse.
While he caught his breath, she lazily ran her fingers over the bulge of his upper arm.She bit her lower lip, flushed with longing, and he could see unrequited desire still veiling her eyes.
He wasn’t finished with her.This hasty coupling had been far too swift and one-sided.But it had taken the ragged edge off of his lust, and now he’d be able to take his time with the hot-blooded wench.
Avril knew everything was going to be all right now.She’d won Brandr over, body and soul.He’d marry her now and give Kimbery a name.He’d even promised to regain Rivenloch and her rightful place of power.There was nothing as heady as being in control again.At last her world would be set to rights and she’d get her command back.
And yet she realized as she continued to gaze down at Brandr’s broad chest, tracing the contours of his muscular arms and shivering at the rasp of his breath upon her skin, she felt less like the lady and commander of a castle and more like a drowsy-eyed cat longing to be pet.
The feeling troubled her.Her heart beat too fast.Her reflexes were too slow.She felt feverish and weak, as if her bones were melting.And the sensation only grew worse when she felt him begin to swell inside her again.
She knew she should withdraw.She was too exposed, too fragile, too vulnerable.If she wasn’t careful, she’d leave herself open to attack.She might find herself at his mercy, the same way she’d been at the mercy of that berserker.
And yet…
She couldn’t seem to pull away.Even as her mind screamed at her to flee while she still had the chance, to raise her shield, to guard her heart, as she gazed into his smoldering eyes and felt the impassioned rise and fall of his formidable chest, she was strangely drawn to him.
And when one corner of his mouth lifted in a lazy smile, when he reached up to softly brush her lower lip with the back of his knuckle, when she felt the subtle pulse of his need within her, she knew she was past escape.
Her eyes closed, and her mouth fell open beneath his touch.A curious warm glow enfolded her, softening her fear and whetting her appetite.Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, pressing into his supple flesh, as he gently caressed her cheek.
Her breath quickened as his fingers drifted down her throat, settling upon the place where her pulse now raced.She swallowed hard, knowing he could strangle her with one hand and yet trusting he would not.
Indeed, his hand moved with such sweet leisure down her neck, sweeping across her collar bone, and slipping beneath her kirtle, that she felt no desire to resist.Slowly, he teased the garment from her shoulder, running his fingers over the design inked there.
“What is this?”he whispered.
She furrowed her brow, startled that he spoke to her.The men she’d bedded before never uttered a word—not that she’d given them the chance.She hadn’t wanted to know their thoughts.She’d simply wanted to use their bodies and be done with them.
It was disconcerting.Nonetheless, she managed to answer him.“An endless knot.”
“It’s beautiful,” he murmured.“What does it mean?”
She hesitated, uncomfortable with his question.Somehow, the exchange of words made what they did more intimate.She couldn’t pretend he was just another body.Speaking forced her to acknowledge he was a man…with thoughts and ideas and intentions.
Though it was difficult for her, she answered him in a stilted whisper.“The three circles are…spirit…life…and love.”
“Ah.”His hand left her shoulder then to brush over her ankle, which was nestled against his hip.“And this one?”
Lusty lethargy made her voice ragged and foreign to her ears.“A broken sword…in honor of my father.”
He was silent for a moment.Then he asked, “Did it hurt?”
His puzzling question made her open her eyes.Then she remembered he had no such markings on his skin.Her designs must seem strange to him.
“Nay,” she told him.
He shot her a dubious glance.
“A wee bit,” she admitted.
