Rebecca’s heart hammered in her breast like a herd of stampeding horses. The man was infuriating. She was lying in his bed with him leaning partially over her. A more shockingly inappropriate thing she had never done. “This is improper.”
His lips curved slowly, reaching all the way to his eyes. “Not when you have been in love for years, Rebecca. For years. With you.”
Rebecca couldn’t breathe.
Wicke was in love with her?
“Where is this coming from?” She clutched her throat. “This is all too much, too sudden.”
“Forgive me, Rebecca, but I have stood on the sidelines waiting for you to notice me as a man. I’m not waiting any longer. You have a choice to make. And I am not letting you leave this chamber until you know just how serious I am.”
“Does it get more serious than this?” Rebecca asked breathlessly. Her brain simply could not move farther than his confession. She inhaled deeply. He smelled of soap. Fresh. And droplets of water fell on the swell of her breast.
Wicke was in love with her.
“Let us find out,” he announced, lips capturing hers in a kiss again.
She twisted her face away. “You cannot ravish me!”
“Ravish you?” He grinned. “I do not plan to ravish you, Rebecca. I plan to show you how it could be between us without taking your virtue.”
“What if I’d rather not know?” Rebecca whispered.
“Then push me away.”
God help her, she could not. She found it impossible to avert her gaze from his blazing eyes. In them, she saw a man, perhaps for the first time, and one with powerful needs and unflinching resolve.
His hand dragged up her leg, and Rebecca gasped as cool air brushed against her exposed leg as her skirts bundled beneath his palm. His eyes never left hers, gauging for her reaction with each inch gained.
Rebecca held her breath, spellbound.
And when he lowered his mouth to the swell of her breast, when his hand reached the most forbidden part of her, Rebecca arched in a gasp.
***
WOLFSTAN DRAGGED INa breath of wanton air. He had never touched a woman the way he touched Rebecca. He had been kissed by women, one or two, but never kissed a woman, not until his mouth had descended on Rebecca’s.
He had wanted her so long, dreamed of her so many times, he let instinct guide him. His mouth dropped over her breast and he kissed her there, like a parched man who had been deprived of water all his life.
His mouth trailed lower, leaving a wake of kisses over her body, the thin material of her gown the only guard against his desire. Her intoxicating scent urged him on, and he continued his quest lower. She did not object.
His teeth scraped the material of her gown over the tight bud of her nipple. Lord, she felt soft and pliant beneath his touch. He wanted the clothes gone. He wanted to strip her bare and ravish her. Instead, he cupped her breasts with his free hand gently, testing their fullness in his palm.
“Christ, you are beautiful.”
She moaned as he cupped her sex. Wolfstan let out a ragged breath. He slid his fingers over her folds.
“Wicke . . .”
The pleading note of his name nearly undid him. His mouth worked its way down her belly, over the soft indent of her bellybutton until he reached the crumpled material of her gown. His finger flexed over the most sensitive part of her and she arched into the mattress.
He lowered his mouth over her. He could scarcely breathe as he kissed her there. He half expected her to scramble away from him and kick him in the face because Wolfstan didn’t know what the hell he was doing, only that hehadto touch the sweetest part of her.
He had been battle-ready when she first entered his chamber, set on using all of his natural weapons against her. Now he tasted the sweet nectar of victory on his tongue. He circled his thumb over her core as he kissed her, years of dreams and fantasies combined in the soft moan that breathed from her lips.
She bucked in his arms and cried out moments later. Wolfstan tightened his grip as he kissed her, his tongue drawing out every last drop of her pleasure.
“What did you do to me?” she gasped as Wolfstan pulled away from her.
