Improper Seduction (12 page)

It became impossible not to reach for him, her hands longing to seek out the warmth of his chest. Each fingertip ultra-aware of the moment when they made contact with him, first one and then another until her hands were resting lightly against him.

Bridget shivered, and he pressed her lips wide for a deeper kiss. The tip of his tongue slipped gently over her lower lip in a slow motion that sent ripples of sensation through her. He
was tasting her, lingering over her lips like fine French wine. Her confidence swelled as she felt the power of her own attractiveness. Her jaw relaxed, allowing him to penetrate her mouth with a slow thrust of his tongue. It wasn’t the bold invasion she expected from him, but that did not mean it was soft. Steady and sure, he stroked her tongue with his until she mimicked his motion, kissing him back.

“Sweet Bridget, I must thank you for having mercy and giving me an excuse to join you. I confess I’ve been discarding reason after reason to come in here since you lowered the flap and shut me out.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

A low chuckle drifted over her. In the dark she felt it as much as she heard it. His fingers threaded into her hair, slipping through the strands to rest against her scalp and cradle her head. He turned her face up to his, but all she saw was a shadow. Her sight failed her, but her other senses were keenly aware of him. She could feel his warmth and smell his clean male scent. It sent her heart racing once more, as if she had fallen back into her dream and his arms.

“Yet you enjoy having me here as well.” His hand trailed down to rest over her heart once more. He tapped against her chest in time with the frantic tempo her heart was keeping. “The proof is plain. Besides, you should be happy that you have snared my attention.”

“Why? Because you believe that all women thirst for male admirers?”

He chuckled again, and his opposite hand moved, sliding gently over the soft mound of her breast. She shucked in a harsh breath, her body attempting to roll away from the sheer abundance of sensation that touch produced. But he denied her any escape, his body leaning over hers and the hand cradling her head keeping her firmly in place while his hand
gently fingered her breast. Soft strokes made the breath freeze in her lungs.

“I think it is time I demonstrated just how much you may expect to enjoy being admired by me, Bridget.”

“You shouldn’t—”

“I disagree wholeheartedly.”

And he wasn’t going to continue to debate the issue, either. His fingers circled her breast, sending ripples of delight through the soft flesh. With naught but two thin layers of linen between his fingers and her skin, she felt the heat from his hand scorching her. A soft sound made it past her lips, but she honestly didn’t know if it was born of distress or delight. She felt suspended between the two emotions, but her body was rapidly losing the will to protest. She wanted to arch up and offer her breast to his grasp, to his will.

“I believe I made a grave error in leaving our union uncelebrated. The knowledge of how close I came to losing you sticks to my thoughts like tar. I find myself jealous of even the idea of another having you.”

His voice turned husky and deep, drawing her closer to him to ensure that she heard each word. She felt his breath against her cheek, and his hand closed gently around her breast. A soft sound came from her that she didn’t recognize as her own. The night air was no longer chilly, Curan’s body warming her until she was hot. Her racing heart warming her more completely than a summer day.

“Perhaps it was best, though, else I might never have been able to complete my duty knowing how sweet you sound with my hand upon you. Knowing how soft your flesh was might have turned me traitor to my king’s will just so that I might lie with you again.”

His hand moved away from her breast, and disappointment surged through her. A tiny groan came from her, but it became
a gasp when he slid his hand beneath the neckline of her chemise. Delight raced across her skin, startling her with its intensity. Excitement twisted through her belly so tight she jerked with it. He controlled her easily, moving with her as though he understood what his touch was doing to her.

“You shouldn’t—”

“It would be a sin against the flesh nature gifted us with not to show you what delights await you as my wife.”

She lost track of what she was trying to forbid him to do as his hand cupped her breast. Skin against skin, it flooded her with pleasure. It seemed as if she were finally experiencing what her breasts had been created for. With them contained behind stiffly boned stays for years, she had never realized how much the mounds of flesh might feel.

“Disagreeing with you is becoming an enjoyable thing, sweet Bridget.” His thumb glided across the hard peak of her nipple, wringing another gasp from her. “I believe it is time to crush this desire you have to tell me no so often. Maybe you doubt my ability to make my bed a place you will eagerly look forward to sharing.”

“You mustn’t say things like that. What would the church say?”

He pinched her nipple, the harder touch shocking her with how much she enjoyed the sensation. She pushed against his chest, but it was more reaction than a desire to be free. Curan didn’t move; he remained solid and hard beside her, resting most of his weight on one elbow. His fingers remained closed about the hard point of her nipple, gently rolling the woman’s tip.

“I have followed their teachings and taken you as my wife. I expect the church to bid me well and leave me to enjoy my bride, in every manner I desire or you do.”

“Your words are far from humble and quite lustful.”

He grunted and tightened his hand on her breast. “You begin to know me better, Bridget. A task I believe we shall delve into deeper.”

His hand left her breast, and this time he grasped the tie that held her dressing robe closed. With a sharp jerk it opened, and he grasped the edge of her chemise to pull it down and bare her chest. She felt the brush of the night air against her hard nipple a mere moment before he leaned over her and captured the puckered tip between his lips.

Another cry crossed her open lips, but she was not intent on escape. Her body arched, offering her breast to his mouth. Sweet delight flowed from that point of contact, his mouth hotter than anything she might have imagined. His hand moved from cradling her head to the center of her back, where he lifted her to him so that he could suck more strongly on her nipple. The pleasure bit into her, sharp and hard, racing through her flesh to the spot hidden in the folds of her sex. A throbbing began there that spread to her sheath. It became a needy ache that made her twist, because remaining still was impossible.

She wanted to touch him, spread her hands over him just as boldly as she had witnessed Marie doing. There was no forcing herself to do it. She reached for the hard shoulders that her attention had rested on so frequently and muttered with enjoyment as her fingertips glided over the hard ridges.

His knee dropped over her thigh, locking one of her legs in place. He teased the hard top of her nipple with his tongue, lashing it with soft motions that set her heart racing faster. Her blood felt as though it were on fire, and she didn’t truly protest when he tugged her chemise up to bare her thighs. The cool air was a relief and so freeing, she shuddered. Her eyes opened, and she realized how overwhelmed she was. She
wanted more than that, craved the same level of involvement she had seen Marie taking.

Curan released her nipple, and the night air turned it cold where her skin was wet. Slipping her hands up to his face, she held him cupped in her hands and lifted her head up to press a kiss against his mouth. He shook slightly, surprised by her boldness, and that filled her with confidence. She held on to him and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. He didn’t take command of it, only allowed her to push his lips apart so that she might deepen the kiss. His hand cupped her breast lightly, tenderly, before slipping down her body to her belly, where it rested.

Sensation twisted beneath that hand. An insane sort of excitement made her kiss him harder. Curan abandoned his relaxed demeanor, his lips meeting hers with equal passion while his hand ventured lower to where his knee kept her thighs slightly parted.

She gasped, and it broke their kiss. Knowing what happened between a man and woman did not completely prepare her for the first touch on the top of her mons. The throbbing increased, and she was suddenly aware of her passage being empty.

His cock would fill you …

It was a wicked thought, but her mind was filled with the memory of the way Marie had so confidently lowered her body onto Tomas’s hard flesh. Curan was watching her, trying to gauge her mood, but her expression was hidden in the dark. He kept his hand on her mons, as sure and steady as he did everything else. There was no retreat in this man, only steady, onward progress that would win the day.

She could be taken on her back or rise to meet him …

Stretching up, she pressed a soft kiss against his neck. His
skin was not as rough as she might have thought it would be. Her hands on his chest felt him shiver slightly in response. This tiny vibration filled her with a sense of victory.

“You tease me, Bridget.”

His voice was rough, but she detected a note of admiration in it.

“Because I do not remain still and simply allow you to cover me, while I lay still in submission?”

She relaxed and did exactly that, forcing her limbs to go limp. “Is this better?”

He growled at her with a low sound that practically defined the idea of frustration. Bridget laughed softly at him, but her amusement died swiftly when his hand moved lower until it was resting directly over that spot that throbbed so incessantly between the folds of her flesh.

“Two may play the game of taunting. Be careful what you begin. I enjoy victory a great deal. It might be interesting to pit our wills against one another, to see exactly how long you might remain still while I tried to entice you into responding.”

His fingers moved, rubbing her directly on top of her sex. Pleasure shot up into her passage so fast she cried out. She quickly lost her ability to remain in place, her body bucking with the amount of sensation his touch produced. His chest rumbled with his amusement as his fingers continued to move. He covered her lips with his, smothering the sound while his larger body held her on her back and at his mercy.

“I believe the victory goes to me.”

“You are arrogant. Why do you torment me?”

Yet it was a sweet torment he inflicted upon her. His fingers rubbed, working in a slow motion that produced as much pleasure as need. She felt torn by the twin emotions, each so opposite from one another but being created by the same action. Her hips wanted to lift up to his hand and increase the
pressure. She felt compelled to strain toward him, seeking some form of release from the aching need filling her passage.

“Have you ever been pleasured?”

“What?”

That single word sounded hoarse. She shut her mouth and swallowed to try to force herself to recall how to answer in a smooth tone.

“You have never fingered yourself?”

“Of course not.” She tried to twist away but was pinned quite securely. His fingers continued their slow and lazy motion. Her taut muscles began to ache. It seemed impossible to relax or to even be completely still.

She wanted to be filled. Wanted it so badly she almost cried out in demand.

“Release me. You promised we would wait.”

Her words sounded sulky, as though she wanted to taunt him until he lost his own control and gave her what she craved. In the night, it seemed right to feed the desire tearing at her. The darkness hinted at absolution for any sins committed while hidden in its velvety folds.

He leaned down and bit her neck, a soft nip that sent a ripple of pleasure down her spine.

“I don’t want to wait, I want to fill you tonight and feel you clasping me with your thighs. I can feel the need shaking you, Bridget. Tell me you desire release.”

His tone was gruff, and part of her rejoiced. His lips found her breast again, and he nuzzled the soft mound before teasing the nipple with little kisses. It was too soft for what she needed, and she arched up to press against him.

“I will not.” The words felt as if they were torn from her. Her body shivered in disappointment.

“I shall not make it such a simple thing for you, Bridget.”

His finger continued to torment her, building more hunger
beneath its slow motion. She wanted something more, but she was powerless within his grasp to obtain it.

“You are my wife; there is no shame in taking pleasure from my touch.”

He loomed over her again, and she could feel the change in his mood. Tension felt thick in the air when his fingers stilled. She shuddered, her body reacting to the lack of motion. She still needed more. Needed something harder and faster to satisfy her.

“Tell me you desire pleasure from my hand.”

Hard and unyielding, his words drew a sharp gasp from her. She shut her jaw so fast her teeth clicked against one another, but he chuckled at her response and gave a sharp tug on her chemise. The lightweight fabric rose up her legs quickly, baring her to the top of her thighs.

“Begone, Curan.” She didn’t care if he took exception to her tone. He’d been warned to avoid her in private if he wanted properness from her.

He snorted, sounding as frustrated as she. “And leave you hungering, sweet Bridget?”

He pulled on the fabric of her clothing again. Even her weight did not prevent him from raising it above her waist. A soft sound came from her lips as she felt her sex being touched by the night air. She shivered just a tiny amount as the first layer of her innocence was stripped away.

“Where has your confidence gone?” The trace of amusement in his tone chaffed her pride.

“You shouldn’t jest. Would you rather I was a slut? Well accustomed to a man’s touch? Eager to follow my lustful impulses the moment I laid eyes upon a man who pleased me?”

His fingers gently returned to her mons, petting the soft curls that grew there in a gentle motion before seeking out the cleft that lay beneath them.