The Captive - By Joanne Rock Page 0,29

hadn’t appreciated it since the rest of the world wanted to call her troublesome and outspoken.

Now, the desire bubbled up so fast it seeped right through her skin. A fever took hold of her and she wanted Wulf’s lips everywhere at once to soothe it.

How could one man please her so much?

Her fingers tangled in his hair as he fastened his mouth to her breast, tracing the outline of her nipple through the fine linen of her under dress. The damp material clung to her even after he lifted his head to observe his handiwork through eyes grown slumberous with arousal.

Blindly, she tore at the neck of the garment, wanting it gone. Needing her skin exposed to his every touch. When her efforts failed, Wulf slid the linen up, bunching handfuls of fabric in his fingers as he dragged it out from under her gown and hauled it over her head.

Flames leaped in his gaze as he watched her. She knew no shyness, only hunger for his approval. His caress.

“I want to supplant bad memories with new ones.” Stretched out beside him under the night sky, she shared the wish she’d made when the shooting star had streaked past them earlier.

She did not understand how his wish for pleasure had become hers, but it had happened and she yearned for fulfillment at his hands.

Wulf took her mouth in his again, as if he knew exactly how to incite more of the heat she wanted. While he kissed her, he reached beneath her skirts and slid his hand up her calf.

Over her thigh.

She could not help a tense moment. This was where Gerald had usually begun his attentions—such as they were. A hand thrust between her legs.

She closed her eyes tightly, not realizing Wulf had replaced her gown.

Disappointment warred with relief. And yes, anger at how a cruel hand could reach from the grave to hurt her even now.

“Gwen.” Wulf spoke her name between the kisses she craved so much. “You are not ready—”

“Yes.” By the saints, she would not be robbed of her adventure. Her night in his arms before she returned to a world of rules and restrictions, duty and dowries. “Yes, I am. I will not be denied this pleasure you have promised.”

She heard the mutinous tone in her voice and he must have, too, for she saw a flash of white teeth in the darkness.

“Tell me, fickle widow, what do you want from me?” He nipped her lower lip and rolled it gently between his teeth before letting it go.

And sweet, merciful heaven. The sensation echoed decadently between her thighs.

“Let me,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers and placing his fingers upon her bare calf once again. “I will not be nervous when I am in charge.”

She hoped. Nay, she insisted.

Gamely, she slipped both their hands beneath her skirt, her fingers pressing his palm tight to her leg as they slid surely upward.

“You are so soft. So smooth,” he crooned sweetly to her, and she marveled that a man capable of fierceness could take care of her so tenderly.

At the middle of her thigh, she halted, her path unclear.

Wulf tapped the back of her thigh with his pinky finger. “If I cupped your hip, I would press you to me until you were fully ready.” He tapped his forefinger on the front of her thigh. “But if I journey north in this direction, I would test your readiness for myself and tease you gently until you begged for more.”

Her womb contracted hard at both scenarios, heat sweeping through her like a wildfire until she let go of his hand to concentrate on the feelings. Perhaps she did not want to be in control after all.

“You decide,” she murmured, her eyelids falling closed as tension began to coil deep inside her. “I am all yours.”

Even before she finished her words, his fingers grazed the damp curls between her legs. She gasped at the feel of him there, patient and attentive, gliding closer and closer to—

Oh.

He grazed the slick folds of her sex, eliciting a moan she hardly recognized as her own. When he did it a second time, she fastened her arms about his neck, clinging to him and the fiery feeling he gave her.

“That is wonderful.” Other words came to mind, all in that same vein. Marvelous. Amazing. Delicious. They played over and over in her mind as Wulf pressed harder and her legs parted for him.

If she was tormenting him, he never showed it. She