The Captive - By Joanne Rock Page 0,44

she possessed it in no small measure with this man. He did not wish to hurt her. And—more to the point—he wanted her in his bed.

Not in the way that Gerald had. Wulf did not want to possess her in anger. The Dane wanted to feel her come undone at his touch, and this he could not accomplish any way but with her compliance.

“You made your point,” he acknowledged, the words sounding far more controlled and reasonable than he looked. “Now you will submit. And by your god and mine, there will not be a fight since you want this as much as I do.”

He lowered his mouth to one side of her face and dragged his lips slowly along the slope of her cheekbone. Heat flashed within her like a starburst, strong and smoldering at the center and sending streaks of warmth to points beyond.

It was difficult to argue with an arrogant man when he was so very correct. She wanted Wulf with a fierceness that surprised her, her hunger for him making her back arch toward him like a flower to the sun.

“I will never be yours to command,” she reminded him, knowing she must find the will to walk away if he could not agree. “What I give you, I give because I want to and not because you demand it.”

His thigh brushed hers, the heavy weight suggestive without pinning her to the earthen floor of spring grass. She nearly came out of her skin. Her thin layer of linen from the sea-washed undergarment was no barrier at all from the stark heat of his body.

“Be warned, I will endeavor to make you want this constantly.” He plucked at the shoulder of her damp chemise and pulled the neckline wide-open so that he could see her collarbone and, as he tugged harder, the top of her breast.

It was not easy to maintain the thread of the conversation with his tongue tracing lush patterns down her neck, following the pulsing path of her veins. Thoughts of the future scrambled, her sole concern for what happened here and now.

“Touch me.” She brought her hand up to his chest and felt the warmth of his skin beneath the layer of cool seawater that clung to him. “I can think of nothing else.”

He halted his kisses to study her in the moonlight. Time stood still as they searched each other’s eyes for secrets and truths. The music from the Dane’s camp played in the distance, the drums as relentless as the warriors themselves. The sound mingled with the soft roll of the waves near their feet. Stars dotted the sky behind Wulf, a map of lights only a seafarer could follow. Gwendolyn’s only guide right now was her blue-eyed warrior, a man who searched for his direction from her, it seemed.

And, ah, he’d touched her more deeply than she’d intended. For instead of charging ahead to put his hands on her body as she’d asked, he sought assurance that she truly wanted this connection with him. And for her stark and ruthless Dane to consider her feelings that way stroked her heart most tenderly.

Blinking back the tide of emotions that threatened, Gwendolyn merely reached for his hand and placed it on her hip, answering his unspoken question.

Wulf felt the sweet invitation of her palm on his skin and released a pent-up breath. His fingers flexed against her waist, savoring the way her hips flared gently from there. Even more, he savored the knowledge that this proud Saxon noblewoman wanted him.

“You lost your dress,” he noted, the sight of her skin beneath the delicate linen driving him mad for her. “I spotted you in the moonlight because your skin is so pale.”

So fine. So soft. He molded and massaged her hip to fit his palm. Then, leaning more of his weight on her, he edged his knee fully between hers and lifted it to rest against her mound.

Her gasp was a far sweeter music than the boisterous voices lifted in song on the far side of the island. Her fingers tracked a path across his lips, as if teasing him to remember how he’d used his mouth to please her in the past. The soaring satisfaction he took from knowing she sought his kiss and his touch was better than any victory in battle.

“You saw me?” One of her fingers dipped into his mouth and he captured it, licking the salty taste of the sea from her. “My body seems to call