He circled his finger over the peak of one of her hard buds straining against the linen, and his lust ripped his control from his grip. With an urgency he’d never felt, he divested himself of his clothing and her of her undergarments as she boldly stared at him. Then, he swept her into his arms, her softness against his hardness, and carried her to the bed. He wanted to take hours to worship her, but there was not time for that. He laid her down gently, nudged his knee between her thighs, then ran his palms up the length of the silken skin on the inside of her legs, to spread them gently apart.
She did not protest, but she sucked in her lip and her breathing had become jagged. Was it fear or lust? He wanted lust from her. He may not have her honest words, but he’d have her unfettered desire.
He meant to use the skill he’d learned to pleasure a woman. He intended to wield it like a weapon, but all his intentions slipped away as he slid his fingers between her legs and found her hot and ready for him. “Ye want me just as much as I want ye,” he blurted, catching her shy gaze.
“Aye. ’Tis likely sinful how much I want ye. I’ll need to make a quick prayer of forgiveness for my wanton nature when we’re done.”
He laughed at that. “God has better things to concern himself with than yer wanton nature,” he replied. “Besides, ’tis nae sinful to yearn for yer husband.”
“But Esther says—”
“Who’s Esther?” he asked, gently stroking over the nub that was the center of her pleasure. When she moaned and arched her back, he grinned. He rubbed the nub again, his own need growing tenfold. “Esther?” he gently reminded. “Who is she?”
Ada opened her eyes, which she had squeezed shut, brought herself up onto her elbows, and her eyes widened as she looked at him. “My companion. She—Ah!” Ada’s head had fallen back to the covers when he’d stroked her once more.
His grin widened. His wife was a passionate woman, and the way she responded to his gentle touch was making him crazed. “I want to put my mouth on ye.”
“Wh-what?” Ada brought her head up again.
“My mouth. I want to taste ye.” He circled her nub in slow, tantalizing strokes, making her squirm. “Here.” He bent his head between her thighs as she started to protest.
“William, I—”
He parted her and slid his tongue up her center, a growl of pure, unadulterated lust escaping him. He’d died. He’d died and gone to Heaven. She no longer spoke but whimpered. Her hands had come to his head to press him closer, which made him chuckle with triumphant pleasure as he licked and lavished her with only one thought in his mind.
Claim her.
Her fingers tangled into his hair, her nails raking over his scalp as he suckled at her center, driven now by the need to bring her fulfillment. She thrashed beneath him and her motions drove him to move his tongue quicker, stroke her more intensely. “William,” she moaned, his name a soft cry of need from her lips. “William, please, please,” she begged, her hands coming to his shoulders, trying to tug him up.
He paused only long enough to say, “Trust me, Ada.”
She nodded, her eyes glassy, her expression dazed, and he bent his head to attend her more, even as he slid his hands over her taut belly and found his way to her nipples. He took each between his thumb and forefinger, gently stroking, lightly pulling. Her thighs suddenly pressed together, a pant escaped her, and then she tensed around him as her climax took her. She throbbed beneath him, her body pulsing with her desire—and his own desire, his need for this woman claimed him completely now.
He rose between her thighs, glanced down at her, and stilled for one moment, drinking her in. “God, ye are beautiful.” A strange ache took hold of him, squeezing his chest. What was that?
A pounding came at the door. “My patience is nearing its end,” Brothwell boomed, and William cursed the man to a thousand slow deaths. Ada stiffened under him.
“Push him out of yer head, Ada, or this will hurt more.”
“I kinnae. I—”
William took her nipple into his mouth, suckling until she once again was squirming, and then he released her bud to claim her lips as he claimed her innocence. He delved his tongue inside her mouth as he gripped her bottom, hoisted her up, and slid into her with one quick, sure stroke.
When she sucked in a sharp breath, he released her mouth and stilled, wanting to soothe her. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips, then locked his gaze to hers. “Tell me when ye feel ye are ready.”
She nodded. “’Tis a strange feeling to have ye inside me. It hurts.”
“Aye, I’m sorry, lass, but—”
“The sting is gone,” she interrupted. “I… Well, I want ye to move.”
“Ye’re certain?”
She grinned. “Ineedye to move. I need…I need…something…” She trailed off.
He knew what she was after even if she didn’t, and he drew all the way out of her almost to his tip before sliding back in. He watched her, holding himself in check with iron control. His own body demanded release, but he held himself back, waiting, wanting to please her, to give to her. The moment bliss sparked in her eyes, triumph flowed through his veins. He increased his pace as she ran her fingertips tenderly along his back.
Her touch, gentle yet urgent, made that same strange ache grip him, but satisfaction flooded his mind as her body tightened around his and began to contract with her release, which gave him his. The way her body pulsed around his intoxicated him and filled him with sweet agony. Waves of warmth pounded him as he pumped into her, giving her not only his seed but all of him.
