“If you choose to challenge me, Bridget, be very sure that I will take up the gauntlet.” He pulled her gown up farther.
“I did not cast out any challenge, sir.”
His hand found the back of her thigh, skin against skin, and she gasped as hot sensation shot up her leg.
“Ah, but I disagree, sweet Bridget. Your very demeanor challenges me to claim you.” He smoothed his hand along the back of her thigh, sending little waves of enjoyment through her skin. Her breath felt almost too heavy in her lungs, and she labored to exhale.
“So the fact that I am not simpering like a foolish chit makes it correct for you to treat me disrespectfully?”
His face was hidden half in shadow, but she still noticed the tensing around his mouth as her words impacted him. His hand froze on her thigh, granting her a reprieve from the delight his touch inflicted on her.
“You are my wife. Touching you is my right; there is no disrespect.”
“Indeed, my lord? With my skirt hiked above my knees and my thighs on display to any of your men who cares to watch?”
She felt his fingers tightening on her thigh, but they relaxed almost as soon as she felt the tensing.
“None of my men would dare.”
“Or would they simply not admit that they were enjoying the sight, my lord? By the time you were ready to protect my modesty, they would likely have slipped away.”
Her words were bold, dangerously so, because now she was casting a challenge. Maybe it was the darkness, or the overwhelming need he provoked that made her want to allow him to do what he pleased with her…. Whatever it was, there was no tempering her words.
The hand on her thigh left, and her skirt fell back down to cover her legs.
“You are correct, Bridget. You are not a girl, but more of a woman. One that knows full well how to tease a man.”
His tone told her that was not a compliment. His breath was raspy, and he didn’t move away, but remained with his body pressing her tightly against the tree. There was a look in his eyes, one that told her he wanted her to feel his strength, know that it was greater than her own.
A shiver of what she now knew to be arousal skittered down her back, because she did indeed enjoy his embrace. He was her opposite, hardness opposed to her softness, and the contrast was alluring.
“I will look forward to a full rendering of your studies once we are encased in the privacy of my chambers at Amber Hill.”
His mouth captured hers in the dark, his lips boldly taking a hard kiss from her. But the shocking thing was how much she enjoyed the way he commanded her mouth, his lips pressing hers until they opened and he could thrust his tongue inside her mouth. The invasion drew an insane need to press her body against his. She didn’t want to be his prisoner; she craved something different. Her hands slid up and over the hard muscles of his chest until she found the top of his shoulders where her fingers might curl around and hold him. She tilted her head to the side so that their mouths might fit more completely against one another. A low growl rumbled through his chest before he cupped the back of her neck.
“Meet me, Bridget. Give me your tongue.”
That was the only thought her mind seemed able to hold. Her mouth opened for his kiss, and she sent her tongue toward his, stroking along its surface. Another growl came from him, and he pressed her tighter against him. She could feel the hard outline of his cock against her belly, and it tore her away from the pleasure of the kiss. His hand left her head, smoothing along the column of her throat and down to boldly stroke the swell of her breast. Excitement made her shiver, and her nipple begged for his fingers to travel lower so that she might feel what it was like to have his hand on them.
She retreated, letting her body fall back against the tree instead of pressing so feverishly up against his, the force of her desire shocking her. Watching Tomas and Marie had not prepared her for how her body was demanding she allow Curan to claim her.
“Enough, Curan. We have agreed that this is not the place to …” Her voice was too husky, shocking her further, so she shut her lips while her hands gripped the rough bark of the tree behind her.
He allowed her retreat, but only a few inches. Her breath came in pants, but his was labored, too.
“I see that your tutoring did not include true kissing, even if you were shown what to expect.”
He drew in a deep breath and stepped back. “We will wait until we reach Amber Hill.”
Each word sounded as though it were forced through his teeth. But she understood why. Her entire body was pulsing with needs so great they were rapidly transforming into demands. She fisted her fingers in her skirts while fighting off the urge to reach for him once more.
She longed to, actually craved having their skin meet again. The urge to shed her dress and press against him pounded through her so loud and hard it drove almost every other thought from her mind.
“These … feelings. They cannot be right.”
Her words were a mere whisper, a vain attempt to regain some measure of control over the weakness that seemed to have taken command of her flesh. How did one kiss destroy so many years of practice and instruction on proper behavior?
Curan snorted. “I see why the courtesan was on her way to you again.” He reached out and clasped her wrist to draw her slowly away from the tree. With a turn he began leading her down the remaining distance to where his men were camped.
