The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel (27 page)

God, it felt incredible—as if he was drawing something from deep inside her. Yet every wicked sensation wrought by his mouth on her breast was mirrored in the tender place between her legs. The throbbing. The warmth. The urgency.

He made a sharp sound deep in his throat, and shifted her slightly to slide his hand under the hem of her chemise between her legs. The brush of his fingers on her thigh shocked her from her dazed reverie. She stiffened and pressed her thighs together, catching his hand. “Don’t. You can’t.”

He lifted his mouth from her breast and grinned. “Relax, love, there’s nothing to worry about.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m only going to touch you with my fingers. You’re going to like it.”

But it seemed so … intimate.

She bit her lip, and he leaned up to kiss her.

“Trust me,” he whispered against her mouth, then kissed her with hard, insistent strokes that made her want to.

Slowly, her legs fell apart, releasing his hand.

A moment later she knew he was right.

The first brush of his finger made her tremble. The second made her body weep for more. And the third … the third time he plunged his finger deep inside her and made her groan and think she’d just glimpsed heaven.

He broke the kiss and she could hear the harshness of his breathing. “God, you’re so soft and wet.”

From the low groan of his voice, she gathered this was a good thing.

He circled his finger inside her, resting the heel of his hand against her mound. Heat swirled inside her. She felt something hard and sharp building. He circled faster, plunging his finger in and out, and her hips started to press against his hand.

Erik struggled to control the fierce pounding of his heart. Ellie’s responsiveness was killing him. Who would have guessed that beneath that prim little exterior beat the heart of a wild temptress? He’d been right about her bottling up that passionate nature of hers, but what he hadn’t anticipated was that she would take to it with such enthusiasm—as if she were making up for lost time.

Hell, it was almost more than one man could handle. Good thing for her that he was up to the challenge. Still, he was having a damned hard time reminding himself that he couldn’t sink into her—especially when, as his finger was stroking that tight, wet heat, she lifted her little hips against his hand and those mouth-watering little breasts of hers arched closer to his mouth.

Her breasts had been a surprise. He was beginning to think he might have made an oversight in not giving small breasts more recognition. What she lacked in size and heft, she more than made up for in shape. He couldn’t recall ever seeing two more exquisitely shaped mounds of creamy ivory flesh. Round and firm, they fit perfectly in his palm, and those tantalizing little nipples …

Heat swelled in his groin. Pretty and pink, they reminded him of two ripe berries. Perfect for plucking between his teeth. And they’d tasted just as sweet, pressing hard against his tongue.

She whimpered and writhed against his hand.

Beautiful
. He watched the pleasure sweep over her face and felt a strange pressure in his chest, an intense yearning for something that he’d never felt before. It was a different kind of lust. It felt important. Significant. He didn’t just want to make her come, he wanted
her
with a fierceness that gripped his entire body.

Christ
. Sweat gathered at his brow as he struggled to take it slow. But she was so wet and hot. Her skin so velvety soft. Her body so damn responsive. And those little cries of hers were driving him wild.

He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted someone this badly. His cock strained hard against his stomach, throbbing to the point of pain. Blood hammered in his ears.

Maybe the sauna hadn’t been a good idea. The heat was playing havoc with his senses. His skin felt like it was on fire. Everything seemed sharper, hotter, and more intense. The soft, feminine fragrance of her skin surrounded him.

Slow down
.
Breathe
.

It wasn’t working. His chest felt heavy and tight, his muscles rigid.

What in Hades was wrong with him? This wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned. He’d wanted to take it slow, to draw out every moment and every touch. To make her first time perfect for her. Instead his hands felt like two unsteady blocks, his movements were jerky and clumsy, and he was in danger of spewing in his braies like an untried lad.

His reputation as a skilled, unhurried lover was suffering a severe thrashing.

She was moaning nearly uncontrollably now, her breath coming out in hard, gasping pants. “Please …”

Her soft plea for release called on every primal masculine instinct inside him to make her his. All he could think about was ripping off their clothes and sliding their naked bodies together until they were both slick with heat. Until he was thrusting deep inside her and her cries of pleasure were echoing in his ears.

He couldn’t go on like this much longer.

He knew she was close. So close that she wouldn’t put up a fight when she realized what he was going to do. No matter how much he was suffering, he intended to make sure this was something she would never forget.

Ellie cried out in sensual frustration when he pulled his hand away. It felt as if she’d been climbing and climbing to something extraordinary only to have it jerked away at the last minute.

“Don’t worry, love. It’s only going to get better.” His voice was tight and ragged. “I need to taste you.”

Kissing was good, Ellie thought. Anything to release this pleasure coiling so tightly inside her.

He laid her down on the bench gently and slid to his knees. Slowly, he eased the edge of her chemise up her thighs. He lowered his head. A flash of lucidity pierced through the haze.

Her heart slammed against her chest. Her body quivered with shock—and something shamefully like anticipation. No, it was wicked to even think. He couldn’t mean to …

Instinctively she tried to close her knees, but it was too late. He licked her, and the pleasure was so intense that her objections dissolved in a pool of liquid heat. She would rather die of embarrassment later than make him stop now. Never had she imagined something could feel so incredible.

He had his hands on her hips, holding her steady. “Open your eyes, Ellie.” She did as instructed. “I want you to watch when I pleasure you.”

Their eyes locked. Seeing his mouth so close … why did it only make her want it more? Why did it feel so deliciously erotic and naughty? She was shaking with desire. With anticipation. Never had she felt so vulnerable. But somehow she trusted that with him it would be all right.

He pressed a soft kiss against her and she melted. His mouth was so warm and gentle. His tongue slid inside her, thrusting until her hips circled against him. Until she thought she was going to die of pleasure.

His kiss turned rougher. Tonguing her deeper and deeper. Circling. Flicking. Sucking. Using his fingers. Her hips rose up to meet him. It was right there. She could feel it concentrating.

“Oh God,” she moaned. She couldn’t stop it. The pressure spiked.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured against her, “come for me.”

She came apart, crying out as the tight ball of sensation shattered inside her. She pulsed against his mouth, and he held her there until the last spasm of pleasure had ebbed from her body.

Slowly, her heartbeat slowed, and she returned to consciousness. He’d eased off her, but still had the linen of her chemise clenched in his fingers.

His head was bent over her, and he was holding himself so stiffly, if it wasn’t for the harshness of his breathing, she would have thought he wasn’t real.

“What’s wrong?” She placed her hand on his rigid shoulder and he jerked at her touch.

He looked up at her. His handsome face was strained and tight, his blue eyes dark. He looked to be in severe pain.

“Nothing,” he growled. His shoulders drew up as he struggled to take a deep, ragged breath. Then, more gently, he said, “If you want to leave here a maid, I need a minute.”

Her eyes widened, realizing he was fighting for control. “Oh.” She sat up, adjusting her chemise. He hadn’t taken his pleasure. Was it the same way for him as it was for her? Was he feeling the way she had when he took his hand away? She bit her lip. “Is there anything I can … do?”

His jaw hardened, and he shook his head. “I’ll take care of it later.”

Take care of it? How? All of a sudden she realized. “No!” She didn’t want him to go to another woman. “Please, I want to. Show me how.”

    Erik’s heart stopped beating, not believing his ears. He was having a hard enough time getting himself under control. Watching her come had aroused him to the point of almost mindless need. Pushed to the very edge of his control, where all it would take was one nudge to send him over. Her offer was almost more than he could bear.

He shook his head. “You don’t know what you are offering.”

She was a virgin, for Christ’s sake.

Ellie put her hand on his leg and he stiffened, the blood pounding even hotter. Sweat gathered across his brow, and it wasn’t from the sauna.

“I know that I want to give you pleasure.” Her cheeks heated adorably. “The way you pleasured me.” She bit her lip and gazed up at him uncertainly. “If it’s possible?”

God, was it possible! In a number of ways.

Erik closed his eyes and fought for control but knew he was past the point of arguing. The idea of her hand on him—he dared not picture her mouth—was too tempting to refuse.

She wanted to pleasure
him
. Usually he was the one who gave—whether it was pleasure in the bedchamber or entertainment around the campfire. He wasn’t used to someone thinking about what he wanted. But Ellie never seemed to act the way she was supposed to.

“Tell me,” she prodded softly.

He looked into her eyes, every inch of his body pulled as tight as a bowstring. His jaw was clenched so hard he could barely get the words out. “I can’t.”

Instead he showed her. Holding her gaze, he moved her hand over him.

He groaned at the contact—and at the little erotic sound of surprise that emerged from between her parted lips. She swallowed, with some effort, but when she didn’t remove her hand, he thanked about every god he could think of.

Molding her hand around him, he savored the sensation for as long as he could. He was in danger of losing it with her just holding him.

Clearly this wasn’t going to last long. His vaunted stamina seemed to have deserted him. Ellie was wreaking havoc with his reputation. Not that anyone would believe it. Hell, he couldn’t believe it himself.

Her shock wore off quickly. He almost wished it back, however, when his too-curious little nursemaid started to explore him with painstaking attention to detail. She petted him gently as if she were afraid he would break, when all he wanted to do was curl that soft little palm of hers around him with a firm grip and let her stroke him until he burst into mindless oblivion. She tested his length, moving her hand up and down, and then his girth with a tentative circle of her hand. But her hands were small and he was not; she could barely close halfway.

She gave a gentle squeeze and tug. He made a rough sound of half-pleasure, half-pain. He clenched and started to pulse.

She jerked back her hand. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

He shook his head, blood raging like an inferno in his ears. He wanted to come so badly he could barely think.

“God, no.” His eyes burned as he gazed into her worried face. “It feels perfect.”

She smiled, causing the heat in his blood to spread to his chest. She touched him again, and he sighed into her hand, the relief acute. He leaned back and closed his eyes, trying not to think about what she was doing to him, while savoring each dark sensation. The warmth. The tentative brush of her fingertip as she traced him from root to the top of his thick, sensitive head. And the exquisite pressure when she finally gripped him in her hand.

Her hand skimmed the waistband of his braies. His heart pounded with anticipation. He held his breath, praying to those gods again.

They must have been listening.

“Do I …?”

He nodded, his body clenched in a vise, waiting. She fumbled with the ties. Christ, how could someone so bloody efficient take so long?

At last she succeeded in releasing him and his erection bobbed free.

Her eyes widened. He grew even harder under the heavy weight of her stare. Finally she ventured a glance at him. “You are far more powerful-looking than other men I’ve seen before.”

He managed a strained smile. This was one stick where he wasn’t going to come up short. “And you have a good basis for comparison?”

She blushed so furiously, he would have laughed if he wasn’t in such pain. “Of course not! But I have brothers, and I’ve seen enough men relieve themselves outdoors.”

He was too aroused to tease her anymore. “Put your hand on me, Ellie.”

She eyed him cautiously and tentatively reached out to touch him. He groaned at the skin-to-skin contact, and then at the wonder in her eyes.

“You’re so soft.”

Hardly. But he didn’t have the strength to quibble about semantics.

She explored him again, her maidenly gasps and little observations driving him mad. He had to grit his teeth against the urge to thrust up in her hand and give over to the powerful lust raging inside him.

When she rubbed her thumb over his tip, easing a thick drop from the sensitive head, and instinctively moistened her lips, it was all he could take. Exploring time was over.

He grabbed her wrist and looked into her eyes. “You’re killing me.”

She looked a little too pleased. “I am?”

Vixen
. He covered her hand with his. “Stroke me, Ellie.”

He showed her how to milk him with her hand, to apply just the right amount of pressure, and to find his rhythm.

He could say one thing for her, she was a damned quick learner.

A few hard pumps and he felt the pressure intensifying at the base of his spine. His bollocks pulled up tight. His stomach muscles clenched. He strained against the release, not wanting it to be over too quickly, wanting to drag out every moment of pleasure.