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"Um, did you hear a protest from me?"
"No, but I will hear your agreement."
"You mean I get all of you, no matter what?" she asked, breathless.
"Every inch." At the edge of the pond, he set her on her feet.
Arousal blistered her as she peered up at him. He was pure wicked indulgence, a buffet of sensual delights. Shirtless, his bird tattoo on spectacular display. The one he wouldn't let her touch--yet. Soon I'll touch every inch of him...
"You want me," he said, framing her face with his hands. "Say it."
"I want you." Desperately. Madly. Moonlight fought its way through the canopy of trees, stroking him with loving fingers. "We'll have to be quick. The danger..."
"Quick?" Warm breath caressed her brow as he chuckled. "Impossible, wife. This is our first time. Your first time, period. We will savor every second. If Sin tries anything, I'll sense his magic. I'm prepared now."
"All right. Okay." How could she resist? "My answer is yes." A thousand times yes.
Groaning, he fisted a handful of hair at her nape and urged her face to his. "Give me what I've been missing."
"Always." Their lips met in a heated clash, their tongues twining, dueling. A deep kiss. Reverent. Wild and yet still sweet.
He kissed her as if his survival depended on it, demanding total surrender. Surrender she happily ceded. Scorching desire swept her up, down, in, out and everywhere in between. Ravenous, they devoured each other. This wasn't an appetizer, but a full-blown meal.
Never had Gillian known hunger like this. Every cell, every organ, every inch of her craved his possession.
Puck lowered her onto a bed of moss and maneuvered to his side. With one hand, he cupped her ass--a favorite position? With the other, he palmed her breast and brushed his thumb against the distended crest. Paradise!
"You been missing me, lass?" The huskiness of his tone--audible porn.
"Every inch of you." Shivers and heat invaded her bones and when he kneaded her flesh, she would swear he considered her body a temple--would swear he worshipped every inch of her.
At eighteen, she hadn't been ready for him. At one hundred...two hundred...maybe even four hundred, her issues might have gotten the better of her. After multiple wars and countless trials, battles, friendships and betrayals, hurts and pains, creating a clan and a home, she finally knew what she wanted, and what she needed. For her, everything revolved around Puck Connacht. Warrior prince. Future king. Adored husband. The man who felt everything--for her.
He deepened the kiss, and she spread her legs, letting his thigh rest between hers. Instant rush! Liquid heat drenched her panties. Unable to remain still, she arched her back, grinding her core against him.
A whimper escaped. The rush and the pleasure!
"Puck," she cried.
"Stop?" he asked, his tone ragged.
"Don't stop. Ever."
35
Gillian slid a hand over Puck's chest...over the bird tattoo. Magic pricked her, rushing up her arm, making her shiver. Well, well. No wonder he hadn't wanted her to touch it. The tattoo meant something. But what?
Mind too fogged to unravel a mystery.
"Want me to stop?" she asked, tracing her fingertips over the beautifully detailed wings.
"Never stop."
His heartbeat thundered against her palm, racing in sync to hers. The silk and heat of his skin...the glorious cut of solid muscle...the musk of his scent combined with the sweetness of his taste...making me crazed.
Since his return, she'd felt as if she were burning up, sometimes at a low simmer, most times at a full boil. Ravaged by this newest passion-fever--or rather, this extension of the last one--she arched her back to gyrate against his thigh.
"That's a good lass," he praised. He kneaded her ass harder, helping her gyrate with more force. "Let's get you nice and primed."
Already primed, warrior. She'd never been so drenched.
When he shifted his leg, his thigh grazed her where she ached most. She groaned. He moaned. Every point of contact became electrified, the currents supercharging her arousal.
How long had this beautiful man been deprived of affection and adoration? Since before his possession? Taken from his mother's arms as a child, forced to fight in his father's armies, punished for anything perceived as a "woman's softness."
As much as Gillian wanted to take, she wanted to give.
"Puck," she gasped out, growing more desperate by the second. "I need to touch you, too."
"Touch me, then. Please."
Brimming with eagerness, she lifted her head to watch his face as she delved her hand beneath the waist of his pants. Though she had little experience, she faked confidence and wrapped her fingers around his erection.
"Tell me if I do something wrong," she said.
"You do...everything right." Strain tightened his features, his breaths turning ragged. Lust glittered in his dark eyes, the starry pinpricks so beautiful. He had an entire solar system in those irises, and she felt like she was the sun.
Up and down, she stroked him. Up, down. His hips arched with each upward motion.
"The things you do to me, lass." With a hand draped over her nape, he drew her down for another kiss. A frenzied one, with teeth and tongue and an exchange of air. Of life.
He slipped his free hand under her panties, pressed the heel of his palm against her core. Pressure grew, made worse by lance after lance of incomparable sensation.
"Puck...please." So ready!
He plunged two fingers deep. Yes! She cried out, releasing his length to clutch his shoulders, her nails sinking into his skin. Her skin pulled taut over muscle, her mind reduced to its most animal state. Take my pleasure, ensure his.
She rocked her hips, forcing his fingers deeper. Hotter heat. More pressure. Little mewling sounds rose from her as his thumb pressed against her clitoris.
"I'm so close," she said, her voice ragged.
"That's the way, wife. I'm going to make you come hard and fast. A swift, brutal climax, but it won't be enough. Not nearly enough."
No, no, never enough. She couldn't catch her
breath. She...she...
"You're going to need more...and more..." His voice drugged her, luring her to obey...
Gillian erupted! A scream burst from her, pleasure overwhelming her. Muscles contracted. Bones liquefied. Her heart either stopped, or it raced so quickly she could no longer discern a single beat. Her mind soared with the stars, wonderment leaving her in a daze.
But just as "hard and fast" as she'd come, she crashed. Empty, her body was so empty, his fingers gone. She needed to be filled.
Panting, she said, "Diabolical man. You were right. It wasn't enough. I only want more."
His eyelids hooded, his breathing choppy. "Then take it from me."
Oh, she would, happily. But not until she returned the favor...
"Let's get you primed first," she whispered. Trembling, knowing she played with fire, Gillian traced her fingers over his lips, his cheekbone, around his eyes, through his hair...and over his horns. Every touch was a revelation of his innate power...and agonized her.
The danger of arousing him? She aroused herself, too.
When he tore open the waist of his pants, just enough to free his length--so long and thick and hard--her inner walls squeezed, as if desperate to glove him.
He ran his hand up and down, utterly magnificent. "This is what you do to me. This is how much I crave you."
He craved her greatly.
"Want to taste it." Tremors intensifying, she crawled down his body and fit her lips around his erection, took him down...down.
The ferocity of his reaction delighted her. He gripped hanks of moss, dug the heels of his feet in the dirt, and hissed up at the sky. "Yes!"
She moved up, down. Repeat, again and again. He trembled with every upward glide, and groaned each time she descended. His strength...heat...silkiness...incredible!
He was desire made flesh, carnal and deliciously wicked.
She sucked him, faster and faster, until he tensed, gripped her under her arms and lifted her. His mouth claimed hers, and he fed her a fierce, frenzied, savage kiss. With a deft twist of his wrist, he removed her shirt, cupped and kneaded her bare breasts. He pinched her nipples, and she gasped. Every cell in her body hummed with rapture.
"More." She had to have more.
He ripped off her panties. "Straddle me. Will use magic...birth control."
Finally take him inside? Yes! "Running low on magic."
"Worthy sacrifice."
So true! As fast as immortally possible, she climbed onto his lap. The pleats in her skirt offered no resistance as she spread her legs, welcoming his erection against her core.
