Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,52

her now. Her eyes had turned dark with desire, and she was breathing fast.

Firelight bathed her body. Gavina was a small woman, and before he’d seen her naked, Draco had thought her body would be as slender as a reed. Yet the woman had breathtaking curves: high plump breasts and womanly hips. He pulled her against him again, his mouth claiming hers once more, before he slid his hands down the curve of her back and cupped her buttocks.

Then, he lifted Gavina up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her out of the solar, dripping water over the flagstone floor as he went, into the adjoining bed-chamber.

This time, he was going to take his wife upon a bed.

Gavina arched back against the coverlet, her eyes fluttering shut.

God’s bones … what’s he doing to me? Draco’s tongue … his lips … were making her melt. He was weaving that same enchantment around her as he had that morning, and she was powerless in its thrall.

And strangely, the loss of control thrilled her.

With a ragged gasp, she let go, let the pleasure he was giving her build and crest.

Trembling, she opened her eyes to see Draco rise from between her thighs. He then moved up, holding himself over her, his mouth claiming hers once more.

He kissed her with an abandon that made the same wildness explode within Gavina. She’d never felt like this—utterly unfettered.

Dunnottar was besieged. She was on the brink of losing everything, and yet at this moment, she couldn’t care less if the whole world burned to cinders around her.

She just wanted this man inside her.

Draco entered her in one smooth, gliding thrust. Gavina arched her hips up to meet him. Aching pleasure rippled through her loins as he stretched her, filled her. She gasped his name, clutching at his shoulders. It was almost too much.

But Draco continued to drive into her, in deep, punishing strokes that pushed all coherent thought from her mind.

Heart pounding, Draco lay upon his back, staring up at the rafters.

The Bull-slayer be praised … this woman turned him feral. He hadn’t thought this morning’s wild coupling against the wall could be bested, but the pleasure that had just consumed him had turned the world black for a moment.

Buried deep inside Gavina’s tight heat, he’d lost himself.

For the first time since the cursing, he’d been completely present. No regrets. No disappointments. No bitterness. No hope.

Nothing but this bed. This woman.

And as Draco lay there, trying to recover his breath and wits, a chill stole over him.

Letting go like this was dangerous.

Gavina affected him too strongly. He needed to get a leash on himself.

He turned his head, focusing upon the beautiful woman who lay sprawled on her back next to him. Gavina’s eyes were closed, her long lashes dark blonde smudges upon her cheeks. Her lips were parted, and as his attention rested upon her mouth, Draco felt hunger rise once more.

He didn’t understand it. He didn’t even like this woman.

Liar, a cold voice whispered to him. You’ve wanted Gavina De Keith from the first moment you set eyes on her. Indeed, it was because of her confident, proud manner that he found her attractive. He’d just told himself otherwise.

Draco’s breathing hitched, the chill that had enveloped his body deepening. Had he really deceived himself so fully? Running a hand over his face, he attempted to net his racing thoughts.

Enough. He’d bedded his wife once more, in order to end the curse upon him, Maximus, and Cassian. Not because he had feelings for her. Not because this woman lit up his world like a candle in the darkness.

If she couldn’t help him break the curse, he had to distance himself from her.

Gavina stretched slowly and languorously like a cat basking in the noon sun. Her body had never felt so relaxed, her limbs so loose. Twice since their wedding, Draco Vulcan had taken her—and twice he’d made her forget herself.

This time, she’d literally been rendered speechless in the aftermath. They’d lain, side-by-side upon the bed, reeling in the aftermath. The ragged rasp of their breathing had filled the bedchamber.

Shortly after, Gavina had fallen asleep.

Her exhaustion wasn’t surprising. This had turned out to be the most dramatic day of her life—more of an upheaval than even her wedding to David had been.

That day had literally been the opposite to this one.

On the dawn of her first marriage, she’d been excited. Her handsome husband hadn’t been particularly warm during the ceremony or the banquet