The Captive - By Joanne Rock Page 0,27

kiss led when she knew he could stop himself anytime? When he had sworn he would never hurt her?

“It is difficult to remember my reasons just now,” she admitted, lured to follow her heart and her instincts.

“Where is the woman I spied on the battlements? The woman who refused to hide during an invasion while her companions cowered in a locked hall?” Gently, he brushed a finger beneath her chin and tipped her face toward his.

The call of passion was too great. In him. In her. In the spring night lush with new life and ancient promise.

“Perhaps she merely waited for the right battle cry.” Tentatively, her hands sought his chest, his strength and daring that spoke to her own. Her eyelids grew heavy and fell to half-mast, the intoxication she felt owing everything to the powerful effect of the man, not the mead. “In my case, I think that might be a kiss.”

6

IN A LIFETIME OF CONQUERING foreign lands, Wulf had never wanted to claim new terrain as badly as he did right now.

Gwendolyn swayed toward him, bringing with her a whole host of enticements a man could scarcely catalog. The scent of her skin beckoned, the heat of her desire intensifying the fragrance of sweet herbs that she must use for bathing. Her flesh felt soft along his fingertip, firm and tender to touch.

She peered up at him with bold, brown eyes that had turned molten, her shoulders swaying with the ragged breaths she dragged into her lungs.

He wanted her underneath him, on top of him and sideways. But he would treat her with care. He’d made a vow and he would keep it if it killed him.

Then she was in his arms and he couldn’t have said who moved first. Her thigh pressed against his, the shape of her leg apparent even through the layers of underskirts and gown. Her hands splayed against his chest, her fingers clutching and clinging to his tunic, as if she could drag him near.

But it was her kiss that brought him to his knees. The innocent artlessness of the day before had vanished. Her mouth met his fully, hungrily. The reticence was gone, and in its place was a new sensuality. She kissed him like she could not get enough of him, her tongue stroking his with the slow deliberation of a woman who had found a new favored hobby.

He groaned at the feel of her, a full-scale assault on his senses as she arched into him. Whatever else she feared about intimacy, Gwendolyn was a convert when it came to kissing.

Shoring up his restraint, he tucked an arm beneath her legs and hauled her into his lap. He knew better than to rush her, but the sooner she grew accustomed to the feel of him, the better.

She pulled back from him suddenly, her hands framing his face as she stared at him in the firelight.

“I think I will like being in charge of my own adventure,” she whispered, her words throaty with newfound passion.

The dazed look in her eyes and the moist sheen of her lips told him she was well on the path to readiness, but he vowed not to rush. He intended to hew to the promise of the blood oath in every moment he spent touching her and exploring her body.

“You must tell me when you feel ready for more,” he urged.

Already he throbbed with need for her, her thigh nestled against him so that every movement she made proved delicious torment.

“If you can make it as good as the kissing, I am ready.” Her arms wound about his neck, her plump breasts swelling against his chest. “I am very fond of the way you kiss.”

He guessed as much from the way she squirmed in his arms, her body making demands she might not be ready to acknowledge. He could not wait to show her what she’d been missing, what he could supply for her in knee-melting abundance. If he was fortunate enough to share her bed tonight, he planned to ensure she never wished to leave it.

At that moment, it occurred to him that while he’d taken her captive for his pleasure, he had committed himself to hers instead. But he had the feeling doing so would provide him with a new kind of fulfillment.

“You are in luck then.” His hands skimmed her sides, slowing to untie the laces of her gown. “For I plan to kiss more of you.”

He did not wait for her to