Pleasure shot through him at how her body tightened beneath his touch. Slowly, he stroked his finger across the silken skin, savoring her surprise, then the sheer wonder upon her face. As he continued to stroke her, her breathing grew faster. Never had he met a woman as sensitive as she.
He leaned down and drew her nipple in his mouth. She moaned as he continued his sensual assault, and he enjoyed her lush taste, the slide of his mouth against skin. He caught her other nipple within his finger, squeezed.
Without warning, her body began to quake.
Stunned, he pulled back, watched the flood of emotions wash across her face. God in heaven, he’d hardly touched the lass and she had almost come apart. Had he not known of her marriage, he would think her a virgin.
His mind clasped upon the thought, the idea of her supposed innocence. In a sense she was virginal; with her mind afraid, Cristina was unsure, nervous of what lay ahead. Beneath his touch, she was relearning the intimacy of a man’s caress.
Excitement built inside, a heat so hot it threatened to fracture his control. Slow, lad, if you take her now, you will destroy the trust you’ve won.
The flat of her stomach trembled against his hand. She closed her eyes.
“Cristina.”
Hesitant lashes fluttered open.
“You are beautiful.” Slowly, he caught her breast within his mouth, suckled, capturing the tip with his teeth. “I am going to touch you,” he said, preparing her, needing her ready for him in every sense. “Everywhere.”
She wet her lips, nodded.
Patrik eased his hand lower. Wetness greeted him, a slick warmth that had his body aching. He focused upon her pleasure, on the building of need, on watching her as he took her over the edge.
With slow strokes, he caressed her soft folds, enjoyed the way her body shuddered at his every touch, her gasps becoming broken whimpers.
“Let go, lass. Let your mind follow your body’s needs.” He slid his finger into her wetness.
Panic slid across her face. Her entire body stiffened.
“’Tis me,” he soothed, “no other.” He waited, understood her nerves, her remembered terror. With excruciating slowness, he stroked her, gritted his teeth at how her slick walls clasped him tight. As her body began to relax, he increased the pace. When she began to arch into his touch, he edged lower.
Eyes wide, she stilled. “What are you doing?”
“I am going to taste you.”
Distress paled her face as she jerked back. “No!”
“Shhh, lass.” He edged back up. “Never would I do what you would not wish.”
Eyes wide, she watched him, the pulse at her throat erratic. “Why do you want to . . .” She closed her eyes.
What in Hades was going on? “What?”
She edged open her eyes. “You wanted to . . .”
“Taste you?”
The blush on her face deepened. “Yes.”
Her husband was a complete fool. “Many men enjoy a woman’s taste.”
Disbelief flickered on her face. “Truly?”
He drew a steadying breath. “Aye. If you let me, I swear it will bring you only pleasure.”
She gave a hesitant nod.
With his body aching, he lowered himself, her woman’s scent luring him. He took a slow taste.
