She felt overwhelmed by the force of his need, the assault on her senses. It frightened her, and yet something deep inside her craved his raw emotion, unchecked and unbound. She wanted to drown in the stormy passion of deep kisses, to feel the writhing need of the insistent hands gripping her hips.
Ian tore his mouth away to give her hot, wet kisses along the side of her throat. Clutching her bottom, he lifted her against him so that she felt his erection, full and hard.
“I want ye so badly,” he said against her ear. “I may die right here if I can’t have ye.”
For the first time, she felt her power over him—and she liked it. She splayed her hands under his shirt and bit his lip, drawing a low groan from him.
“Well, ye can have me,” she said, and pulled him into another deep kiss.
He backed her up to the bed, and they fell across it. Holding her face in his hands, he kissed her as if he might never have the chance again. Then his hands were running over her body, rough with wanting. Her chest felt tight, as if she could not get enough air. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
His hand was on her breast, his thumb seeking the nipple. When he found it, he lowered his head to suck on her breast through the bodice of her gown. She gasped as intense sensations spiraled through her. The world was suspended as every part of her being focused on his mouth on her breast. It was a torture, but a sweet torture that left her breathless and light-headed.
He jerked at the skirt of her gown until his hand touched her bare thigh. But it was not enough.
“I need ye naked,” he said, his voice a low rasp deep in his throat. “Now.”
He rolled her to the side and began unhooking the back of her gown, while his mouth assaulted hers with scorching kisses that left her dazed and wanting. The next thing she knew, she was lifting her arms and he was pulling the gown over her head. Cool air hit her hot skin—her chemise had come off with her gown.
Before she had time to feel embarrassed, he wrapped himself around her, engulfing her in the heat of his body and his passion. The rough cloth of his shirt made her sensitive skin tingle.
Her heart beat hard with anticipation as he paused to jerk his boots off and pull his shirt over his head. When he crushed her against him again, this time it was skin to skin.
Every inch of her was alive to his touch—and his hands were everywhere, running over her body, as he kissed her hair, her face, her throat. Their nakedness increased the urgency of his already burning need. She felt it in the tension of his muscles under her hands, in the hunger of his kisses.
“Ye are mine,” he said, pausing to look at her with burning eyes. “And I’m claiming every inch of ye.”
His hair slid over her skin as he moved down her body, planting hot, wet kisses down her breastbone, to the undersides of her breasts, and on her stomach. All the while, his hands played with her nipples, sending sensations straight to the aching place between her legs.
As his mouth and tongue traveled over her belly and down her hip, a sliver of unease crept into the swirl of sensations that swamped her. Her unease grew by a giant leap when he lifted her knee and she felt the bristle of his whiskers and the wet warmth of his open mouth on the inside of her thigh.
Tension mounted inside her as his mouth drew closer and closer to her center. Surely, he wasn’t going to kiss her there. Her breathing grew shallow as he moved up, inch by inch. She was at his mercy, and she didn’t care. Wherever he was taking her, she wanted to go.
Oh God! When he kissed her there, between her legs, her body jerked—whether from shock or because she was so sensitive, she didn’t know. He groaned and tightened his hold on her thighs.
He ran his tongue over her, sending surges of pleasure through her that had her gripping the bedclothes in her fists. She tried to form the words to protest, but the sounds that came from her throat only seemed to encourage him to do more.
And the more he did, the more she never wanted him to stop.
She gripped the bedclothes tighter and held on for dear life as the tension built and built inside her. When she could stand no more, she strained against his hold.
But he was relentless. She came in pounding waves that blinded her.
Before she could catch her breath, he was on top of her. His hands were fisted in her hair, his ragged breath was on her face, and his eyes were dazed, unfocused. His chest pressed down on her sensitive breasts. But what had her attention was his manhood pressing against the sensitive place his mouth had been a moment before.
Of their own volition, her hips rose to meet him. He made a guttural sound deep in his throat and surged forward—but just as she felt him start to push inside her, he halted.
His face was strained as he looked down at her, blinking as if he had stepped into the light from a dark, dark place.
He lifted himself off of her slowly, as if he were pulling himself against a rushing current, and lay beside her.
When she turned to face him, he brushed the hair back from her face. Something had changed in him. The urgency of a few moments before was banked, though she sensed it still burned hot just beneath the surface.
“I’ve never bedded a virgin before, so I don’t know how much this will hurt ye,” he said. “Are ye frightened?”
She shook her head; it was mostly true.
Her gaze dropped to his groin, and she felt her eyes go wide as she got a good look at his shaft.
“Ach, it’s bigger than I expected,” she said, unable to take her eyes from it. “Will it fit?”
He chuckled deep in his throat and lifted her chin with his fingers. “Like a glove. We were made for each other.”
She tilted her head to the side to take another look. “I’m no so sure…”
