The Chief (23 page)

The weight in his groin intensified. His blood rushed hotter as her soft, womanly scent washed over him. She had no idea what she did to him. How he hungered for her. How her unabashed desire for him only made it worse.

“I wondered if we might…”

He waited. His heart pounding fiercely under her palm. He could tell she didn't know how to say what she wanted. “What is it, lass?” he said huskily, unable to stop himself from caressing the velvety curve of her cheek. A fissure of sensation rattled through him, as it always did when he touched her. “Say what it is you want.”

“I wondered if we might try it the way…the first night…”

He froze. But the blood, the blood rushed and pounded inside him like an inferno. The chains of civility had never been pulled so tight. Every animal instinct in him rose like those of a lion ready to break out of a cage. His cock stiffened, rock-hard and aching.

She couldn't be asking…

But she was. Her eyes locked on his. “From behind.”

Christina blushed furiously, wondering whether she'd made a mistake. For one agonizing moment he didn't move, didn't say a word. Every muscle in his body seemed pulled as tight as a bowstring. The room echoed with a painful silence.

She couldn't look at him, humiliated by her own boldness. What had she been thinking? What must he think of her wanton request? This had to be the single most embarrassing moment of her life.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, stepping away from him. “You wished to leave. Forget—”

The low sound he made in his throat sent shivers up her spine. It was the sound he made right before…

He seemed to snap. “Like hell,” he said, catching her wrist and pulling her roughly against his chest.

She gasped, the instant bodily connection making every one of her nerve endings crackle with instant awareness. She stared up into his face, finding his expression more fierce than she'd ever seen it before. The tic below his jaw pulsed hard and fast.

Unconsciously, she tried to pull away, a little frightened by what she might have unknowingly unleashed. He was every inch the terrifying warrior—more barbarian than knight.

But he wouldn't let her go. His searing gaze caught her in its fiery trap. “I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. Not with a request like that.” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her the few steps to the bed.

Christina's heart raced with a nervous thrill. She could feel the tension raging inside him, his desire for her radiating on a level she'd never felt before. He seemed like a man pushed to the edge, hanging on by the last thread of his control. It was wild, dangerous, and exciting—
very
exciting.

He set her down on the covers with surprising gentleness, given the harshness of his movements as he started to remove his clothes. He jerked off the plaid he wore around his shoulders, his boots, and then his studded
cotun
.

But when he leaned over to blow out the candle she stopped him. “Please, don't.” She didn't want any more darkness between them. “Won't you leave it?”

Their eyes met, his sapphire gaze dark and penetrating. He didn't want to? But why?

She thought he was going to deny her request when he said with a simple nod, “As you wish.”

He removed his
leine
and she sucked in her breath. Heavens, he was glorious! Every bit as spectacular as she remembered. A fortress of masculine beauty and strength. Every inch of flesh honed to firm, hard muscle. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his arms thick and defined. His stomach rippled with band upon band of sharply molded steel. How was it that he seemed even bigger and broader without his clothes and armor?

She didn't know where she wanted to put her hands first.

But it was the sight of his prominent erection that sent warm tingles of awareness prickling between her legs. The bold evidence of his desire thrilled her. Thick and long, the round head plump and swollen. So brutally—undeniably—masculine. It rose against his stomach, growing under her wanton perusal. The thin skin pulled so tight it seemed to shine like marble.

Now
she knew exactly where she wanted her hands.

“Careful, lass,” he warned darkly, his voice dangerous and seductive at the same time. “Look at me like that and you might get more than you bargained for.”

A flush of pleasure surged through for her, realizing her admiration excited him. “Can I touch you?” she blurted, asking what she'd never dared before.

His stomach muscles clenched. Fisting his hands at his side, he nodded. “Aye.”

She rolled on her knees so that she was kneeling before him. Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingertips down the hard ridges of his stomach.

He hissed, the muscles jumping at the feather-soft touch. She bit her lip to stop the smile, marveling at the ability to invoke such a reaction with a simple touch.

Ever so gently she ran her finger along the long length of his manhood. Her lips parted in surprise. The skin was so soft. Like velvet. But underneath, the rigid column was as steely as the rest of him.

She explored him with her fingers and then, growing bolder, with her hand, circling him, though unable to close around him completely.

He groaned at every touch, seemingly in agony.

She let go, gazing up at him hesitantly. “Am I doing something wrong?”

He shook his head. She could see the muscles in his neck and shoulders bunch and strain. “God, no,” he said tightly. “Keep doing what you're doing.” He put his hand over hers and showed her how to hold him. He looked into her eyes, letting her see the depth of his desire. “Ah, that's it, Tina, stroke me.”

Tina. She liked it. It was almost an endearment.

Holding his gaze, she did. Something passed between them. Something that went beyond the erotic sensuality of the moment, heightening every touch, every movement.

She watched the pleasure roll over his features as she
gripped him tight in her hand and pumped. Slow at first, then faster as the passion built on his handsome face.

A strange sense of power surged through her, knowing that she had the ability to do this to him. To take him to such amazing heights. Surely, it meant something? Surely, this was special?

He was hot and throbbing under her palm. She could feel the blood pound and pound, until she felt a powerful pulse. He tore her hand away with a growl. A pearly drop emerged from the tip. She felt the most peculiar urge to bend down and lick it. To taste him fully.

“No more. I need to be inside you.”

His voice was tight and urgent. She'd never seen him like this. Before his passion had been fierce and hot, but always controlled. But now she sensed the control slipping, sensed him warring with something inside him. He was so close to letting go.

One more push. Then maybe the barrier between them would shatter. Boldness had worked before. Setting aside modesty, she slowly lifted her chemise over her head and tossed it to the side. Resisting the urge to cover herself with her arms, she knelt before him naked. “Then take me.”

Tor was fighting to hold on, but she pushed and pushed him closer to the edge with her innocent eagerness. Giving. He'd never met a woman so giving.

From behind
. Hell. Even with the most experienced of bed partners it was not a base pleasure in which he usually indulged, and certainly nothing he'd dared imagine—despite their first encounter—with his sheltered bride. But she surprised him again and again.

From the first wicked request to take her from behind, to the heat of her erotic gaze on his cock, to the blessed pleasure of her milking him in her sweet little hand, he struggled for control. Struggled to stop himself from tossing
her down on the bed and giving her exactly what she asked for—every bit as rough and gritty as he liked it.

But when she slid her chemise over her head, revealing every creamy inch of her naked skin, he lost it. Any pretense of control fell away, landing on the floor beside her gown.

The memories of her lush body had teased him in the darkness, but memories could not compare to seeing her in the flesh. To having every glorious inch of that baby-soft skin revealed in the warm glow of candlelight.

Stunning. Seductive. More beautiful than any woman should be. A nymph with her long dark hair tumbling around her shoulders in glorious waves as she knelt before him, her breasts full and lush, tipped with the most succulent nipples he'd ever tasted. Against the pale cream of her skin the delicate pink looked even more delectably tempting.

In the candlelight he couldn't escape the beauty of her body, and most of all her eyes. They held him and wouldn't let go. Dark and luminous, full of tenderness and emotion he didn't want to see.

“Then take me.”

If she'd intended to drive him mad with lust, she had succeeded. God's wounds, he would take her. From behind, from on top, from under, from the side—
any
way and
every
way he could have her. Now.

Circling her waist with his hands, he lifted her off the bed and brought her hard against his chest, jolting at the sharp sizzle of awareness as skin met skin and their bodies locked together. He buried his face in her hair, starved for the taste of her. His mouth and tongue devoured the honey-sweet skin of her neck, as his hands slid down her back to cup the round curve of her bottom.

He groaned as the familiar sensations washed over him. He would know her anywhere. He'd thought darkness would make her seem like anyone else, but it was just the opposite. The darkness had heightened his other senses, making him even more aware of her. The baby-soft touch
of her skin, her flowery scent, the honey taste of her—they were branded deep in his consciousness.

He'd been using the dark as a cover, hiding from something he knew he couldn't defeat. But it hadn't worked. Their bodies slid together as if made for each other. Nothing had ever felt like this before. He was done fighting this, the passion between them—it was too strong.

Her hips circled insistently against him, rubbing her against his already rock-hard staff. Heat pounded through him. It felt so good. So right. He loved the way she moved against him—shimmying, rubbing, melting in a dark, seductive dance.

Her eager response was too much.

He turned her around against his chest, cupping a lush, round breast with one hand as the other skimmed over her stomach and dipped between her legs.

She trembled and made a little whimper of pleasure as his finger found the silky dampness of her arousal. So deliciously wet. His finger slid inside her, stoking her, stretching her. Her breath quickened, became uneven, then turned to a soft cry. He knew she was close.

“Tell me you want this,” he warned against her hair. Part of him wanted her to refuse, wanted to scare her away.

But she met him full force. Answering him with her body. She arched against him, her breast pushing deeper into his hand and her bottom pressing insistently against his turgid cock. God, he was going to explode.

No holding back. For either of them. Not anymore.

“Bend over,” he ordered, trying to control the lust surging through him. “Put your hands on the bed.”

She did as he asked without hesitation, lifting her sweet, round bottom to the perfect angle. He smoothed his hand over the flawless, creamy skin, savoring the moment of raw sensuality. So soft. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Not with her. The innocent young maid he'd taken one look at and wanted but thought never to have.

He slid his erection between her legs, teasing her with his length, sliding back and forth along her crease until he was wet with her. Then, gripping her hips with his hands, he positioned the sensitive head and pushed inside. His mind went black. He had to close his eyes as the intensity gripped him in a fierce hold. He sank in slowly, dragging out every incredible moment, every sensation of mind-blowing pleasure.

So warm. So tight. So damned good.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he thrust all the way. She cried out in startled pleasure. “Do you like that, sweet Tina?” he asked, grinding against her. “Is this what you wanted?”

He thrust again, bringing her hips back against him to sink in even deeper—as deep as he could go.

“Yes,” she moaned, tipping her hips back against him. “Please. I want everything.”

Beneath the haze of lust, her words resonated with something deeper. He felt it in his chest, tight and coiled.

He let go. Unleashing his passion from its fettered restraints, giving her everything he had. Letting her see exactly how much he wanted her in all its primitive fierceness.

She braced herself against the bed as he slammed into her again and again, his hard grunts mixing with her soft cries in a cacophony of lust and pleasure.

Sensation fired through his body, gathering at the back of his spine in a hot, tingly mass. Every muscle strained toward finding his release.

His jaw clenched as he concentrated on the sensations, on the wickedness of what they were doing. His eyes feasted on the sensual display spread out before him. Her dark hair spilling over the pale skin of her slim back. The shine of her dampness on him as he slid in and out. Her bottom lifting to meet each stroke.

He watched the way her full, heavy breasts moved with each thrust, the pale pink tips hard as two pearls. God, was there anything more erotic?

His fantasies had become real. This was the height of passion for him…wasn't it?

Then why did he feel as if something was missing? He quickened his rhythm, trying to find it.

He heard her sharp intake of breath and then the soft cries of her release as she shuddered and clenched around him.

He stilled. An unreasonable flash of anger flared inside him. He felt as if he'd been cheated. Denied the pleasure he wanted most.

To see her face.

He pulled out of her. Ignoring the shock of cold air on his wet cock, he flipped her over and leaned her back until her bottom rested on the edge of the bed.