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Her breath puffed across his lips, her fingers curling around the back of his neck as she tried to pull him closer. This could only happen if he took the lead. Anything else put her at risk.
“Adam, I’m sure. Now, stop making me wait.”
He growled and his mouth crashed over hers. He yanked her closer, his fingers forking through her hair as he pinned his body over hers. Devouring her mouth, he gave her little time to think, his hardness rubbing against her softness with delicious friction that built to what would be a euphoric release.
He hiked up her skirts as far as her apron allowed. Years of pent up need, weeks of relentless hunger, had his normally agile hands trembling.
Pale lush thighs spread before him and his mouth watered. He hadn’t fed from her since they arrived, and he missed the richness of her blood.
He caressed the soft skin, gliding his hands up her thighs and forcing her legs to open all the way. Delicate pink folds, wet with arousal, unfurled before him.
“You’re beautiful.”
Blood flooded her sex, swelling her labia, as glistening nectar gathered in a pearl of dew at her slit. His head lowered, his tongue sweeping over her and lapping up her arousal.
She arched beneath him, crying out as he felt the ripple of her pleasure. He licked again, his lips curling around the small bud and sucking softly.
Her breathy moans climbed in pitch and tempo as he stroked his tongue over her soft flesh, raining open mouth kisses over her sensitive skin.
His tongue stabbed gently into her, showing her what would come and driving her closer to that steep edge of pleasure where they could finally let go. His erection pressed into the bedding, throbbing with hard need until he feared his desire would burst through his pulsing veins.
Her moans quickened as she pulled at his hair, holding his mouth to her sex. She begged and pleaded for him not to stop, her cries edging him on, filling him with ego and satisfaction. His determination to give her insurmountable pleasure became as important as his will to survive.
The bed rocked as his body thrust. His fingers tightened under the ripples of her skirt, digging into her lush skin. His tongue drove deeper, swirling and laving. He needed to get inside her.
He slid his finger over her folds, gliding in and out of her wetness with fast, penetrating strokes. She gasped and he added another finger, filling her as much as her body would allow.
His mouth closed over the sensitive bud and she screamed in pleasure. Sweet nectar gushed over his fingers in a rush of pulsing pleasure and her body tightened like a bow until she trembled beneath him.
She shivered, her breath coming out in a choppy sigh as her nails dug into his shoulder. Her body fell back, landing fully on the bed as her fingers splayed across her chest, trembling to her throat.
He carefully slid the pins from her apron, unraveling the ties. She panted, eyes closed, as he undressed her, first stripping away the apron then lifting the cape over her head. He slid a hand behind her back and lifted her, tossing the garments aside.
His movements were more intrinsic than thoughtful, his instincts guiding him where his experience lacked. He gently pulled her dress over her head and eased her back to the bed. Then he quickly rid himself of his clothes, as she smiled up at him, her pupils dilated and her cheeks wearing a delightful blush. Hair splayed across the pillows in amber waves contrasted her delicate ivory skin in a work of art. She was an angel sent to save his soul.
His hand trailed over her shoulder, his thumb and forefinger detouring to feel her hair. His gaze dropped to her nipples. Tight, pink peaks, darkened by blood flow, called to him.
Her belly would one day swell with life. And their children would nurse from her breasts. He wanted that day to be now. He ached to put his seed inside of her and start a family with her.
Flattening his palm over her belly, he met her stare. “You’re so small.”
She made an unladylike snort. “Hardly.”
His hands shifted to close around her waist, his thumbs touching above her navel. What if he hurt her? What if her body rejected children the way his mother’s did?
Worry strangled his desire. Had he not already been kneeling, the thought of any pain or sadness coming to her at his doing would have dropped him to his knees.
“It is my honor to protect you, ainsicht.” He would never let anything harm her as long as he lived.
Convincing her to bond became imperative, not for his survival, but for her safety. If he left this world, left her alone, who would watch over her? He couldn’t leave her unprotected. It was his God given duty to make sure she lived a safe and happy life.
