Isolde's Wish (8 page)

She leaned against the wooden side, gazing across the kingdom that was her birthright. Her hair was unbound and fluttered loosely around her shoulders, her arms crossing her gunmetal gray bodice. Her waist was slight, her hips flaring into a stiff metal mesh skirt. It looked tough, but Sadler had touched it when he lifted her into the hull and knew its softness. The fabric stopped midthigh, and he followed the lines of her slender legs into a pair of boots. They were constructed of black leather straps, tight to the knee with a cagelike design.

At the sound of his step on the wooden floorboards, she turned, her face alive with anticipation. The sunlight fell across her golden skin and reflected off her glowing eyes.

She reached for him, and he pulled her near, inch by inch, letting her heat increase against him. He cupped her jaw and kissed her tenderly. Beneath his mouth, her lips parted. The tip of her sweet tongue caressed his and tore a growl from him.

Angling her head, he plunged his tongue between her lips and stroked the hot interior of her mouth, tasting the delicious flavor that was purely Isolde. Her small moan filled his ears, and he drowned in it as their mouths met again and again with increasing need.

He brushed her hair over her shoulders, letting it web between his fingers. With a gasp, he withdrew and spattered kisses down her throat and up again to the sensitive spot behind her ear. She gathered fistfuls of his tunic and twisted, her hips doing a mad dance against his.

“Slow, my love,” he murmured into her ear. “We have hours.”

Still, he wrapped her in his arms and lowered her to the floor. He knelt over her, staring into her hazy gaze while the airship hissed and spurted like an angry cat. Isolde’s chest rose and fell with her breath, making her breasts quiver atop the tight cups of her bodice. She plucked at his tunic, but he grasped her hands in one of his and trapped them above her head.

No way would he allow Millvale to have this sweet, sumptuous woman. If he had to steal her away to keep her from those greasy clutches, he’d do it.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if she knew about Millvale’s interest in her and if she returned it.

She smiled a slow, knowing smile that sent his control overboard. He fumbled with the laces of her bodice, stripping them with a zzzing sound. She laughed as he tossed the velvet strings aside, but at the first contact of his hot palm to her breasts, she gasped.

He kneaded them lightly, letting his thumb cajole the nipples into stiff peaks. He pinched and rolled them between his fingers. “Beautiful woman, ye bewitch me.”

Her mouth was full and inviting, not nearly swollen enough from his kisses. He braced himself atop her, letting her heat climb his body from knee to chest. His cock grew rigid and pulsing, and he took her mouth before he could take her body.

Her thighs parted, the tall boots clasping behind his back, and he released her hands as he ground his rod against her moist heat. He kissed her long and deep, sucking her tongue into his mouth while he teased her nipple. She slipped her fingers beneath his tunic and stroked a path of gooseflesh.

He tore his mouth away and nuzzled her throat down to the swell of her breasts. When he sucked one small pink bud into his mouth, she sank her fingers into his hair, forcing him harder. He circled the nipple with his tongue, lapping at it while twisting the other. And then he kissed down her belly, dipping his tongue into her navel, tasting her fresh skin. She writhed against him.

He traveled downward, driven by the musky woman scent in his nose, wanting to bury his tongue in her moist curls and drink her in. Clutching her ass, he lifted her to his mouth. Her pussy glistened with wetness, her hard clit peeking from between the slender lips. She trembled as his warm breath reached her unkissed spot. He spent a long minute holding her, letting her need build, before he dipped his head and licked her slit.

She bucked against his mouth, and he latched on to her slick clit, then sucked it hard while one finger slipped between her legs. His moan mingled with hers as he located her juices. Slowly he worked his finger inside her tight virgin sheath, feeling her pulsations wash over his hand. He sucked her sex harder, grinding the core of her clit with his tongue until she rocketed over the edge and began to thrust her hips into his face. She screamed with pleasure, and her nails dug into his shoulders.

Sadler continued to lap at her wet pussy gently, letting her come down, but never relenting. “Turn over,” he whispered. “I want ye on yer knees.”

He lifted his mouth away from her long enough to allow her to flip onto her hands and knees. At the first sight of her juicy slit and luscious ass, he groaned, rubbing at his erection. He longed to remove it from his pants, but if he did, he’d slide it into that dripping hole, and damn the consequences.

He caressed her tight ass cheeks, watching the skin shiver beneath his touch. Her back arched deliciously. Blonde waves tumbled down her spine like spun gold. And between her legs, her golden curls shimmered with her love fluids.

A cold sweat of need broke over him, and without warning, he pressed the pad of his thumb against her most secret spot. She cried out at the sudden pressure on her anus, but he kept her from squirming away with a hand on her hip. Gently he circled the rim of her anus with his thumb, letting her grow accustomed to the foreign touch. As she relaxed, he released her hip and slid one finger into her drenched pussy. She was so tight and hot and wet that he was suddenly on the edge of his own release, without her ever touching him. He held utterly still, grinding his molars, fighting it back. He concentrated on the rush of air in the great silk fabric overhead that kept them afloat and the loud grind of wooden and metal gears.

Isolde rocked her hips into his hands, and composure regained, he began to thrust his finger swiftly into her moist hole. His index finger reached down until it located the hard, slippery nub of her desire. He stroked it softly.

Small cries burst from her with each thrust, and when he thought she was about to come unhinged again, he gathered some wetness on his thumb and pressed the tip of it into her nether hole. She began to tremble as the wave took her. He plunged his finger deep and speared her asshole with his thumb, driving her further, demanding her ultimate release. She screamed in pleasure, and hot fluids bathed his hands. Her smell was overwhelming, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in her soaking sex again.

Before he could move, she pulled free. His body felt raw, watching her high, round breasts sway as she turned to face him on her knees. A beautiful pink flush covered her damp face and shoulders.

Sadler held her gaze as she unlaced his breeches and unleashed his cock. She gathered it gently into her hands and began to pump it in long, slow thrusts, rolling the head through her fingers. A strangled breath tore from him at the sensation. His bollocks clenched tight against his body, and a spring of warmth pooled in his lower abdomen.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he concentrated on her soft, slender hands, on her breasts pressed against his upper thighs. And then her hands were gone, replaced by the searing wet heat of her mouth. Sadler’s eyes popped open in time to see the head of his shaft disappear between her swollen, pink lips. The tip of her tongue circled the head, and he clamped down on his need to explode.

Again he thought of android horses and sticky hay-fuel, the oily smells of stables—anything but the woman sucking his cock to the root. He caressed her hair, sweeping it from her eyes, and touched the hollow of one cheek as she sucked him. Her fingers scorched a path along his thighs and around to his buttocks, stroking in rhythm to her sucking.

He wanted to come in her mouth, to watch her drink up his fluid and see the white cream on her lips. Her tongue flicked the head once, twice. Three times and he burst. His muscles burned; his fingers convulsed in her hair. His hips thrust as he jammed his cock into her sweet mouth over and over while the red-hot juices emptied into her. She sucked harder rather than easing up, causing a second burning tremor to grip him. He collapsed forward with a guttural grunt as she drained him.

He opened his eyes and saw her flushed face and hot little mouth bathing his shaft. She licked it from base to tip and dipped her tongue into the wet head, devouring the last drop.

She met his gaze, her own blazing, as she released his cock. A small smile played over her lips, which she licked slowly, gathering the few spilled drops of his pleasure. Sadler reached for her again and cradled her face, then kissed her deeply before he pinned her to the floor with another growl of need.

Chapter Eight

Sadler’s muscular arms circled Isolde’s waist, and he drew her against his chest. His rough jaw scraped the top of her head as together they stared at the open sky.

The long minutes spent on the floor of the airship still dizzied her. She’d never expected the insatiable need Sadler triggered in her. Or her emotional response.

She looked up at the billowing fabric that kept them afloat. “How did ye manage to persuade Sir Malky to lend ye his vessel?” she asked, gesturing to the Malky family crest of two swans tethered to an airship.

Sadler dropped a kiss to her temple. “Let’s say he loves a gamble.”

Isolde groaned. Malky was well-known for his obsession with cards. He refused to back away from any bet, and one night Isolde had bested him five games out of seven. Her brother John now owned half of Malky’s lands.

“Sadler, how will we land without being caught?”

He spun her to face him. His eyes were glowing coals, and she felt the steam of desire rise within her. “Don’t worry yer head, my lovely. I’ll set down a fair distance from the castle and send ye in alone. Of course, I’ll assure that ye’re safe.”

She never questioned her safety. She trusted him implicitly. But the thought of separating from him after their intimate morning made her stomach cramp.

His finger found the point of her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “What is it, Isolde?”

She chewed her lip. “I’m not prepared to go back. Sadler. Why must ye run?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Run?” he echoed. “Why, I run from the headsman, lass. Or do ye fancy seeing my head on a spike?”

A shiver ran through her. “Nay, not ever. Can ye not speak with my father and tell him the truth of yer attempt years ago?”

Face creased with confusion, he studied her. “What do ye believe happened, love?”

Heat licked over her flesh at the endearment. She struggled to focus on his question. “Ye were a lad. It was all a mistake. Ye didn’t know what ye were doing.”

He shook his head. “That’s not true. I planned everything except the part where I run from the law for the rest of my life. But I meant to make the king pay for taking my father from me.”

She gasped. “Ye didn’t. I don’t believe it.”

He stared at her for a long minute. Could a man with such a tender gaze and loving touch cause her father harm? Though his father had been lost at the order of the king, Sadler had been a child—rash and hurting when he’d attempted to take her father’s life.

Sadler’s fingers applied the barest pressure on her jaw as he drew her lips to his. Their kiss was soft and slow, and she relaxed in his hold once more.

“Now if I could take that arsehole Millvale and his army of zeppelgongers out, I would.”

She jerked. “Millvale.”

“What about the man?” His eyes narrowed.

The scorching blush crawled up her cheeks like flames. She disentangled herself, and he rose, pulling her to her feet too. She stepped from his arms and crossed the wooden hull. Her thin boot heels rang against the boards. The wind stung her eyes, and she wished for her soft leather flying goggles not only to cut the wind, but to conceal her tears.

A few steps away, Sadler watched her, head lowered like a predator, something dark moving behind his eyes. She shivered and tugged her bodice higher over her breasts.

“Out with it, woman.”

She pinched the fleshy web between her thumb and forefinger, forcing down her escalating panic. Sadler closed the distance between them. His hands bit into her elbows, and his mouth trembled with anger.

“It’s Millvale,” he said in a low growl. “He shows interest in you.”

She dropped her gaze. “Aye.”

His muscles locked, and Isolde was suddenly reminded of the day she’d met him at the loch—the sheer power that had wielded the battle-ax. The scent of his anger bit into her nostrils like brimstone. A lightning strike. For the first time ever, she feared that Sadler could indeed turn the might of his manhood upon her father. The child Sadler had been fired by grief and loss when he attempted to slay the king. This man possessed the power to finish the job. If he harmed a grizzled white hair on her father’s head, she’d never forgive him.

And there was no question about whether or not he could turn his anger on Millvale.

His hands snapped about her face, thumbs at the corners of her mouth. Their eyes met in a bone-jarring clash. “He’ll never have ye, Isolde. Not while I live.”

Covering his fingers with her own, she sought to tame him. “I don’t think I could be his wife.”

His eyebrow took flight. “Ye don’t think?”

“That’s right.”

His mouth compressed. “Yer father could force it.”

Her sigh was too uneasy for her liking. Millvale was the best match for her in the realm, and everyone knew it. “Aye, but my father wishes for my happiness.”

“Would ye find happiness with Sir Lionel?”

“Nay, you cannot,” he answered for her, tearing at her bodice, ripping away the knot, exposing her round breasts and the nipples as hard as stones. The leather belt sang as he unwound it from her waist, and he doubled it in his fist and smacked his palm with it. “There will be hell to pay for any man who dares to claim ye, Isolde. I make this vow. And I always keep my vows.”

His mouth slammed hers, biting, hard, then pliant, sweet with desperation. He clutched her hips and ground against her. The deep ache began in her belly and spread through her sex, readying her for his fingers. But she wished for more.