Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,61

her husband of his tunic. The material scratched against her bare skin. Holding her hand tightly to keep her from tearing it away, he whispered into her ear. “Nay.”

Deciding it best for now to hold her tongue, she stopped her attempts. Mayhap ‘twould be best for him to lead the way.

Richard pressed sweet, tender kisses on her cheeks before moving to her neck. With gentle hands, he caressed her stomach, thighs, and arms. When she remembered to breathe, she discovered she rather enjoyed the way his calloused hands felt against her skin. His lips were warm and soft.

’Twas as if he were on a great exploration of sorts, trying to discover what pleased her.

But the physical ache deep in her belly took a tight hold and before she knew it, she was on top of her husband, giving way to passion and desire. She had much to offer this world, much to offer her husband. She refused to play victim or innocent or cripple. Nay, she demanded with her actions that he look upon her as a woman. A strong, capable and desirable woman.

“God’s teeth, ye’re goin’ to kill me,” Richard muttered as she tried to slow her pace by placing his palms on her hips.

Aeschene came to an abrupt stop and opened her eyes. “Ye can die from this?” she asked, most sincerely.

’Twas all he could do not to laugh at her distress. When he saw her wounded expression, he caressed her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. “Do not fash over it, lass. I was only jesting.”

She made a mental note to tell him later, much later, not ever to jest when they were joining. Before she could think another thought, Richard rolled over, taking her with him.

Slowly, rhythmically, he moved his hard member in and out while he continued to caress her skin. His kisses were hot and she was quite certain bordered on sinful. But she didn’t care and she didn’t want this moment to end.

Oh, how she wanted to feel his bare skin against her own, but he refused to remove his tunic. The linen fabric and leather ties rubbed against her tender skin. ’Twas naught more than a nuisance, for the pleasure she was feeling elsewhere overpowered any other sensation.

His lips left hers, kissing a hot trail down her cheek, her neck, and shoulders. When his lips settle around the taught peak of her breast, she sucked in a deep breath. Slowly, his tongue twirled the outer edges until she thought she’d go mad with desire. All the while he continued to thrust in and out of her slowly.

A sensation unlike anything she had ever felt before began to build deep within her. Hot, demanding, and intense. It grew and built with each flick of his tongue against her breast. Unable to stand the slow pace, she urged him to go faster, increasing the rhythm of her hips.

“God’s teeth,” he whispered against her breast. “Ye are so hot, so beautiful.”

That deep, intense sensation continued to grow, especially after he whispered those sweet words. Grinding her hips against him, she no longer worried over anything, least of all whether or not he thought her a harlot. Her body took over and she finally found what it had been searching for.

He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted her. Richard had fully intended to simply join with her in the hopes of making an heir. But as soon as he felt her soft skin against his calloused hands, every previous thought fell to the wayside.

Passion and desire consumed him.

While he would have rather enjoyed taking his time to explore her glorious curves, Aeschene would have none of it. With each touch, he was met with her uninhibited, unbridled passion, her soft sighs and moans of pleasure. When she was on top of him, ’twas one of the most sensual, exotic moments that he could ever remember experiencing.

He’d been with countless women in his youth, before the mangling of his face. Aye, he had thoroughly enjoyed each and every one of those experiences.

But this? With Aeschene? Nay, joining with her was so different. It damned near bordered on the celestial.

When she found her release, she called out his name in a breathless whisper. Unable to contain himself any longer, he found his own and rode the wave of pleasure with her.

For the longest while, he lay there, his forehead pressed gently against hers, as he fought to catch his breath; enjoying that intimate moment