Page 47 of Anice’s Bargain

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Anice could not arch her back any further. Already, she had her bottom in the air as high as it would go, her intimate place bared for James’s touch. He cupped her sex in his palm and rubbed against her only once before massaging her thighs and bottom again.

The mattress shifted as he got onto the bed beside her. Warm breath caressed the sensitive dip between her neck and shoulder. “Turn over.”

She complied immediately. She’d leap from a cliff right now, if it meant sating the pounding heat thundering between her thighs.

He scooped his fingers into the small jar and the sweet scent hovering in the air grew stronger. “Spread your legs, wife.”

Her thighs parted immediately, eliciting a lopsided smile from him. And then his fingers were on her. In her. Stroking, spreading, filling. Her hips undulated with his careful rhythm as the tingling heat of the balm set her aflame.

“I can’t take any more.” She grabbed his hand.

Watching her, he circled his thumb upward and hit the most sensitive spot of all. He pushed inside her with the finger of one hand, while the other hand stroked that bud until her heart nearly rent from her chest.

He stopped abruptly and got to his feet. He turned his back to her and pushed down his trews, revealing a sculpted bottom and muscled legs. Next came his doublet, and finally his shirt.

Anice sucked in a breath. She knew James to be taller than most men, his shoulders broader. However, she had not anticipated all of him to be crafted from such raw power. Lines carved deep shadows and sensual valleys into his back, hard-won strength that glowed with good health. His body was magnificent, stacked with muscle and strength.

“James.” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken his name until he turned toward her.

Scarred flesh, rippled and mutilated, slashed across the expanse of his massive chest. Whatever he had endured to receive such a mark would have surely felled a lesser man.

Were she not in such a fevered state, she might have lost herself on the horror of such a scar. She slid her gaze down where his hardened muscles flexed and strained with each ragged breath, and even lower still.

Anice’s mouth went dry.

A thick column of flesh jutted from a cloud of dark hair. Certainly far larger than Marin’s slender finger in her sword-to-sheath display.

A battle axe, indeed.

Perhaps Anice ought to be frightened by such a display of masculinity, but the wet heat of her core was eager to be filled with every inch of it. He crawled onto the bed once more, positioning himself on top of her. So close.

Anice bent her legs at the knees to welcome his weight. Regardless, only half of his bulk settled on her, the other part braced on his elbow while his free hand shifted to his shaft to aim it toward her center. He ran his fist up and down his length, leaving it glistening with the balm he’d used on her.

Now.

Anice wriggled and tried to move higher to meet him. The blunt head of his arousal clumsily brushed her entrance. Her hips jerked upward.

“Slow,” he gritted out.

But she didn’t care for slow. Not when she had spent so long anticipating this moment.

His pelvis flexed forward, and he pushed inside of her. There was pleasure, and a low-lying burn. Anice remained in place, held thus by inexperience, by unknowing.

James pushed into her once more, but he did not go much deeper than his first attempt. “Relax, mo leannan.”

The burr of his Scottish words melted over her, and the tension drained from her muscles. He moved in slow, careful thrusts, easing into her a fraction of an inch at a time.

Each shift brought him deeper into her, filling her more and more, rubbing at the swollen nub of her sex, pushing past the pinch of discomfort and creating a wave of pleasure.

Anice moved with him, awkward and clumsy at first, then slowly caught on to his rhythm. Their bodies rocked together; their breaths came in gasps.

She clasped her feet to the back of his buttocks and pulled him firmly toward her. “More,” she gasped.

He pushed into her, so their pelvises met, his shaft buried fully within her. He caught her hips in his hands and plunged into her harder, faster, building speed. Her body tightened and everything splintered apart on the wings of her crises. The thrusts against her came in quick jerks before he shoved fully and completely into her, following with a low grunting groan.

They remained locked together, hearts racing, breaths coming heavy and fast. Anice glanced up with a shy look at her new husband, in body now as well as in name, and discovered him watching her with an unreadable expression.