“Please,” she begged, though for what she couldn’t say. She only knew that every inch of her cried out for more, more, more.
“Oh God,” he swore as she wrapped her other leg around him, pinned between him and the rigid wood of the door. His eyes grew wild. He ground against her, feral and desperate, kneading her breast, and she loved it—loved that she could make him lose control like that. She wanted to see him undone, beyond words.
A moment later, he turned them around and walked her backwards across the cabin to the bed. By the time he reached it, he seemed to have recovered a modicum of control. She gasped at the loss of contact as he laid her down gently, then backed away.
But he didn’t give her time to object before he pulled her legs to the edge of the bed, kneeling between them. He skimmed his fingers up the backs of her calves to her thighs, pushing up her dress until her lower half was bare to him. She shivered in anticipation, knowing what was to come.
He sat back on his heels and stared at for a long moment with hungry reverence. “You are a goddess, my love. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but as long as I draw breath, I swear I will worship you.”
Slipping off her shoes and letting them drop to the floor, he hooked her bare legs over his shoulders. The awed look he gave her made her feel like she might indeed be some supreme being, ready to receive his devotion. But she wasn’t. She was all too flawed. And so she couldn’t stop herself from shifting the mood with a smirk. “Heathen.”
In a flash, his gaze turned from worshiping to wicked as he grinned. “I am certainly no saint.”
Before she could reply, he pressed his hands to her knees to spread her thighs as wide as they could go before he bent and licked her. Everything in the world contracted to a single point. Nothing existed but the sensation of his tongue against her flesh and the lightning bolt that it sent to every part of her body. Her vision went white. She could barely hear herself crying out. She could only feel as everything within her pulled taut.
A moment later he slid a finger into her molten core, and she bucked off the mattress.
“Exquisite,” he murmured against her tender flesh before licking her again and pumping his finger into her.
Her whole body shuddered with the shock of sensation. She pulsed and sparked like the heart of a bonfire as he drove her beyond what she could bear, beyond words and thought, beyond the bounds of her very existence into a place of pure bliss. Everything she was burned to cinders in the heat of her need as he kept up his relentless rhythm until everything turned white and her body convulsed.
“Martin,” she cried out as he slowed his pace, and she floated down from the celestial sphere where he’d transported her.
While his pace ebbed, he didn’t stop. Adding a second finger, he filled her, stretched her. “Again,” he said in a hoarse voice. His eyes met hers. “And this time I want to watch.”
His calloused thumb brushed over the secret spot, so sensitive after his attentions. “Yes, Isabella. Come apart for me. Let go, my love.”
And she did. Again.
She was completely boneless when he relented after the final tremors. It would be a wonder if she could ever move again. But she knew there was more to come. They had not yet consummated the marriage, she didn’t think, and she yearned for the completion he’d described to her—to be fully united body and soul with this man she loved.
“I want to see all of you,” he said in a rough voice as he untied the laces of her dress and pulled it and her shift over her head. She was as useless as a rag doll and immediately collapsed back on the bed.
He looked at her, fully revealed for the first time, and the expression on his face was almost pained. “God have mercy,” he murmured. “You rob me of words.”
She couldn’t help but grin at that. “At last! I’ve rendered you speechless. I’ve silenced that wicked tongue of yours.”
“My tongue is good for more than talking. Need I show you again?”
He pulled off his cotte and shirt, throwing them to the side without breaking his gaze. “Because I will.”
“You wouldn’t.” She didn’t think she could take another round of tongue lashing without losing her mind entirely.
“I most certainly would,” he said, pulling off his boots and tossing them away, then doing the same with his hose.
By God, he was gorgeous. Every plane of his muscles seemed to gleam in the lantern light as she unabashedly trailed her gaze down his naked body until it rested on his engorged cock. A pearl of liquid had formed at the tip. She was tempted to reach out to touch it but didn’t quite dare.
“But I would rather make you mine at last.”
And just like that, the bonfire within her stirred once more.
“Do you want me, Isabella? Would you like to feel me inside you? Shall we end our little game and consummate our marriage at last?”
He stepped toward her, leaned over her ever so slowly, and settled between her legs, the hard length of him grazing against her bud, so sensitive after all his ministrations.
“Yes, now. Please.” She wasn’t above begging. There was nothing she wanted more in the world, even as a little frisson of nerves ran through her.
“Are you certain?” He took one of her breasts in his mouth and lazily laved it with his clever tongue.
