Tempest Heart - Paula Quinn Page 0,78
“I will love what ye reveal because ’tis ye. ’Tis my heart that is lost to ye, not my eyes.”
She breathed easier, loving his words. “Since when did you grow such a silver tongue?”
“Since I first set out to win ye, my bonnie wife.”
She didn’t breathe as his lips, his tongue, and even the scrape of his teeth against her flesh made her want to do feral, primal things to him that would surely make her blush in the morning.
He devoured the last of her inhibitions and made her move like an inviting caress. His deft fingers worked the last of his clothes.
Rose thought she might die at the idea of him naked beside her. She hadn’t seen much of him but his beautiful face and carved upper body.
She had never seen a naked man before. She was almost a little terrified to look.
“I realized at the castle,” he said on a low, husky voice, drawing her attention away from her fear, “when I woke up to the fires, that nothin’ matters in my life but ye. The sight of ye, the sound of yer honeyed voice, the feel of ye next to me, makes me want to start my life over.” He looked down at her hand between them and ran his fingers over her palm. “Ye are weary.”
“I am awake enough now.” Was that her tone, so wanton and willing?
A month ago, things would have been very different in this room. But she was very different now. She’d faced her worst fears, including death. Death by fire. She’d seen more in a few days than some see in a lifetime. Outside was dangerous, indeed, dangerous and exciting. But if he wanted to go home and be a shepherd in his kin’s stronghold, she would go happily.
A month ago, she would never have been so bold as to sit up, push him down on his back, and straddle him.
Shocked at herself, she let out a nervous giggle and ignored the stray lock of hair that fell over her eye.
“Tristan?”
“Aye, love?” He smiled looking up at her.
“What do I do now?”
He said nothing but crooked his finger at her. She leaned down and closed her eyes to kiss him.
“I will show ye.”
When they were finished, he lay atop her, spent, then he rolled off and pulled her closer. “Just so ye know, love. I am not done.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Tristan lie awake holding his wife in his arms, thinking about having her again. How sweet was her innocence? How wanton her desires?
He told her he wasn’t done. He wanted her over and over, until morning, but he wouldn’t hurt her. If she was not ready again tonight, he would not force her.
He didn’t care if he planted a child in her. He wanted to father her bairns. Many of them.
“That was wonderful,” she purred next to him. “Better than anything else I can think of in my life.”
“Aye, fer me as well. And add that to the fact that my wife is eager fer me makes me quite happy.”
“Then let me make you joyful.” She slipped over him and sat on him again.
He sprang back to life and let his gaze rove over her. He wanted to ravish her, sink deep and fill her to his hilt. But he was gentle with her untried body.
He let her do what she wanted with him, enjoying the surrender immensely. He’d never surrendered to anyone or anything before. He never thought he would, but here he was relinquishing his honed body to something other than battle, with someone who wanted nothing but his heart.
“Am I scandalous?”
“Not to me,” he answered. “I love that ye are eager fer me. I aim to give ye what ye want.”
He was hard enough to impale her but he held command over himself and let her move on him at her own pace. He could feel her resistance. She wanted him inside her but her body was unused to such an invasion.
He moved slowly, helping her get more used to him.
She wreaked havoc on his muscles and his mind by lifting her arms over her head and running her fingers through her lush locks.
He pushed upward when she sank another inch. Her eyes opened on him as he pushed again. He was on fire. Every move she made on him caused him more pleasure and agony. He was determined not to prematurely release himself, but to enjoy her.
He reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands. Her flesh was