Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,70

aside.”

He stared at her, his breathing catching. Clearly, he hadn’t expected such bold words. When he spoke, his voice was husky. “This doesn’t change anything, Gavina,” he murmured. “One night won’t shatter the curse.”

“I know,” she replied, moving closer to him, her fingers exploring the chiseled line of his jaw. “But it will keep reality at bay … if only for a little while.”

Gavina’s pulse quickened. Nessa’s words earlier had unlocked something within her. It dawned upon her then, as she stared into Draco’s shadowed eyes, that she indeed felt something for him.

Something that frightened her just a little.

Draco didn’t answer her. He merely held Gavina’s gaze, letting her explore the hawkish lines of his face with her fingertips. She could feel the tension vibrating off him.

Emotion boiled within her—a strange kind of possession, a tenderness, that robbed her of breath. It made her want to protect him, made her want to shelter in his arms. It made her want to remain at his side no matter what fate dealt them.

Gavina’s breathing caught. Was this what love felt like? Had she actually fallen for him?

Or maybe, all she wanted was to chase his demons away?

And so, slowly, acting on instinct now, Gavina leaned in, tilting her chin up so that their faces were level.

Gently, she brushed her lips against his. Leaning in once more, she kissed him again, and then she boldly touched his lips with the tip of her tongue.

With a groan low in his throat, Draco’s eyes fluttered shut. And then his lips parted. The kiss deepened, and he reached out and pulled her up so that she sat astride him upon his lap. The position was intimate, although layers of cloth separated them, for Gavina was clad in men’s braies.

Even so, when he grasped hold of her bottom and pulled her hard against him, she felt his hard shaft pressing against her core—evident even through their clothing.

Excitement, dark and wild, beat like a Beltaine drum in her breast. Kissing Draco, touching him, unleashed something inside her. It was hard to form a coherent thought when they did this, hard to remember all the things that plagued them.

The kiss deepened further, growing hungry and demanding. Gavina curled her arms around his neck. She loved the feeling of being seated astride him like this, of the thunder of his heart pressed against her chest.

Eventually though, Draco broke off their embrace.

Breathing hard, he rose to his feet and gently let Gavina down. Her knees wobbled when her feet hit the shingles. Her breathing came in short, needy pants.

Was this it? Would he end things here?

She couldn’t bear it if he did.

But he didn’t. Instead, Draco removed his cloak and spread it down upon the pebbles beside the boat. Then, he did the same with hers. Unspeaking, they both heeled off their boots.

Returning to Gavina, he slowly started to peel off her clothing.

She stood there, her fingertips aching to touch him, but letting him undress her nonetheless. And then, when the breeze caressed her naked skin, she reached out and started to unlace his vest. Gavina tried to steady her breathing, for she was starting to feel dizzy with desire, with a need that set her blood aflame.

Moments later, he too was naked.

Then they shifted onto the makeshift bed Draco had made upon the shingle. He drew her to him there, his mouth slanting over hers, and kissed Gavina long and slow, with an aching tenderness.

Gavina melted into him, her hands sliding up the sculpted planes of his chest.

He lowered her to the ground.

The shingle—even covered by cloaks—wasn’t much of a bed, but Gavina barely noticed the pebbles digging into her back. Her only focus was upon the man who stretched himself out over her, who covered her body with his.

Skin slid against skin, and the warmth of him enveloped her.

Draco whispered something to her in a tongue she didn’t understand, his hands cupping her face. He then resumed kissing her, with such leashed passion that Gavina’s pulse started to thunder in her breast. Tenderness rose within her, entwining with a fierce need to possess this man, and to be possessed by him.

Their limbs tangled as they rolled together on the cloaks, the kiss drawing out. There was no need to hurry this. They had the whole night before them.

And Draco had no intention of rushing.

When Gavina was breathless from his kisses, her lips swollen, he slowly moved down her body, worshipping every curve, every hollow—with his lips, his tongue, and