He loved her odd flavor and could not get enough of it. Her lips were firm and succulent, not soft mush like most of the women he had known.
Damn, but he favored the taste of her and the feel of her. She arched her body against his, her breasts pressing firm to his chest, and she wrapped one leg around his, hugging it tightly. She had locked onto him as if she had no intentions of letting go and the thought sent him reeling.
She wanted him.
He eased his lips from hers to trace down along her cheek to her neck, then nuzzled kisses along her silky flesh. She tilted her chin up, providing him easier access, and her strong moans let him know how very much she was enjoying his attention.
Her breathing grew rapid and her body moved beneath him as if she had an itch that needed immediate scratching. Her hands hugged his arms with a strength that surprised him, but when his lips drifted to her breast she suddenly ceased all movement.
He looked up to see a heated glare fixed on him.
“Touch nowhere that rightfully belongs to my future husband.”
He grinned.
“My husband will be of my choice.”
Now she could read his mind. He was about to remind her that she would wed him, and damned if he did not want the wedding to take place today. This vibrant, eager woman beneath him had to be Fiona.
He pushed himself off her and walked over to the water’s edge. He leaned down and splashed water in his face several times. He was crazy for allowing this farce to continue, and yet somehow he did not want to stop it. He felt he was unraveling Fiona, discovering who she was bit by bit and enjoying it. By the time he turned around, Fiona was standing near her horse.
“You run away?”
She laughed and mounted with an agility and speed that startled him. “If I did, you would never catch me.” She took off, her laughter trickling in her wake.
He mumbled several oaths as he mounted his stallion and went after her, a smile surfacing as he gave thought to the wedding night they would soon share.
Clouds arrived at the keep along with Fiona. She walked her mare to the pen, her thoughts on her response to Tarr’s unexpected question.
If not foe, what am I to you?
She had believed him her foe. Why had she answered differently? And what was he to her? She raved and ranted about her situation and yet she found herself enjoying his company.
She looked forward to their discussions. He respected her opinions and never dismissed them as trivial.
Fiona released her mare into the pen and turned, intending to find her sister and talk. But Tarr walked toward her, his horse left to the care of a young lad who took the reins. A ripple of anticipation spread throughout her body tingling her senses. She had just left him, how could he seem more appealing to her in such a short time?
He wore no smile, his eyes were intent upon her, and his walk determined.
He wanted her.
She could sense it in every step he took, in the way his eyes refused to let go of her, in his strides that announced, I am coming to get you.
She had warned him that he would never catch her, and yet he did not give up. He came after her. The thought thrilled her. If he wanted her that much, could he possibly care for her?
He reached her, took her arm, and lead her behind the keep, away from curious glances and into the afternoon shadows that danced against the stone wall. There, he wrapped her so tightly in his arms that she could feel the rapid rhythm of his heart. His was a strong and steady thump-thump that soon had her own heart following suit.
She stared into his eyes and saw her own passion reflected in his heated desire. They mingled and mixed until fused together, and that is when he claimed her lips.
The taste of him never failed to excite her and within minutes, she was fully aroused, and wanting more, much more from him.
She refused to let the kiss end, nibbling at his lips urging his return, until he gently shoved her away from him.
“Think of what I am to you, for before I take you to my bed I want to know.”
Fiona stared at his back as he walked away from her, and she