Was she courageous enough, bold enough, to bring her hand there?
She started at his waist, using her finger to follow the thick edge of his brown leather belt. At his hip, she patted her hand over his plaid, like she’d pat a goat, then brought her hand back up to his belt. Her fingertips hovered over his groin, barely touching his copper belt buckle.
His belly quivered and danced under her fingers, and his breathing grew more ragged in the quiet of the room, sending a rush of his breath against her hair. She flicked her gaze up to see that his head had dropped a bit, his eyes angled downward as he focused those blazing green eyes at her.
No longer stoic or perfectly still. He was losing his control, yet fought with his own inner beast to keep his vow not to move.
Emboldened by his faltering control, her hand shifted, pressing against the hard member of his arousal that bulged against her palm. James gasped sharply. Tosia wanted to snatch her hand away — hewaslike a horse! — but forced herself to keep her hand pressed against the rigid shaft under his plaid.
She was certain that now he’d move, now he’d tell her this game he made of promising not to move was at an end, but he didn’t. The only movement he made was a narrowing of his eyes and the pulsing of his manhood.
While her own chest quivered, that blossoming heat between her legs grew, becoming hotter and spreading lower on her thighs and up to her chest.
With both hands, she slipped the belt from the buckle, and his skin shook as she withdrew the belt. The plaid caught on his hips, precariously balanced, and after a heartbeat of hesitation, Tosia tucked a finger into the waistband, forcing the wool to drop to his feet.
She was at once shocked and mesmerized at the sight of his straining manhood, hard as a sword yet smooth and pulsing toward her as if it already knew the way home.
Her hand reached out and she stroked the hot, silky length, caressing her fingers over the purplish, rounded top of his staff. The ragged, shivering breath he took told her James was at his breaking point.
Then she enveloped his cock in her hand, and his arm shot out from behind him and grabbed her wrist with such a grip she thought he’d crush the bones of her hand.
Instead of cowering away, she kept her own grip on his manhood and turned her eyes to his. If his eyes had teeth, he would have devoured her whole, but she still met his gaze straight on.
“Ye vowed ye wouldn’t move until I released ye,” she whispered.
“Didn’t ye though?” he rejoined, his voice gruff and ragged.
“Nay. No’ quite.” She turned her head slightly, peering at him from under her heavy lashes. Her lips relaxed into that half-smile again. “Do ye wish me to release ye? To give ye leave to move?”
His hand clenched her wrist as his gaze burned into hers, challenging her that he might remain in control when they both knew he was nearing the point of no return.
As was she.
“Answer me, James,” she demanded, again shocked at her impertinence. When had she become so brazen? “Do ye desire that I give ye leave?”
His whole body shuddered.
“Aye.”
What power she wielded — what power he had bestowed upon her.
She squeezed his throbbing shaft again, and his groan was so loud and raw that it shook her to her core. She leaned into him so her lips were near his chin. Taking a deep breath to prepare herself for what was to come, she spoke the words.
“Then I release ye.”
With a low snarl likethe beast he was, James moved with such speed that she barely finished the words when she was on her back in the bed.
He lay atop her, though she was fully dressed, and his eyes searched her face, her heaving bosom, and lower to her waist. Then he cupped her face in his hands and spoke plainly.
“I will do all that I can to ease this transition for ye. If I can make ye feel half the excitement and passion for me that I feel for ye right now, then ye might find your own heights. If ye dinna, I vow that every night after this one, ye will know naught but the greatest ecstasy.”
The promise was an odd one — how could he make such a vow? And were such sensations possible on one’s wedding night? She had not heard any rumors of the like.
Tosia didn’t have time to ponder it, as one of his hands cupped her backside, pressing her hips against his as the other worked at the laces at the back of her gown, freeing them with ease.
Once her gown was loose, he wasted no time in sliding it down her body, followed by her thin chemise that didn’t hide anything as it was, until her body was free, and she was as naked as he. She expected him to move then, to take her as quickly as his ragged desire suggested he would, but he didn’t. Rather he paused, feasting upon her with his heated gaze.
James’s own passion rose inside him, and as much as he wanted to plow her pink furrow with wild abandon, he couldn’t. She wasn’t a hussy to be used and tossed aside. Tosia washiswoman. He belonged to her, and while she might feel the pain of first love this might, he swore to himself he’d do everything in his power to make sure he worshiped her body as it deserved to be worshiped.
