Page 30 of Brigand

“Yes, oh yes.” She held his head just so, commanding him.When he tried to move away, to find the other breast, she tightened herfingers.

His murmur rumbled through her.

“What?” She blinked.

He hissed, “You’re so tight.”

She realized she’d been clutching at him there, as well, in amad attempt to hold him in, in her, forever. She forced her muscles to releaseand was rewarded by another magnificent thrust and another. And then shestopped counting. His movements became quicker, harder. He pounded into her infast, frantic thrusts, creating ripple upon ripple of pleasure in her womb.They expanded, like ripples in a pond, to engulf her. He stared down at her ashe moved, his lips slightly parted, his eyes glazed. Wonderment scored everyline of his face.

As he neared his crisis, as the vein in his neck becamepronounced, and his face turned red as he forgot to breathe, and a sheen ofsweat arose on his skin, she clutched him again. This time deliberately. Timedher internal flutters in concert with his maddened plunges.

His nostrils flared. Words, garbled, incomprehensiblemutterings, spilled from his lips.

His muscles tightened. He battered her with a series ofexcruciatingly perfect lunges. One. Then another. And yet another. Each onewild enough, raw enough, fierce enough to send her tumbling over the edge aswell.

He collapsed on top of her, gasping, covering her with adizzying weight. His body possessed her. His scent surrounded her. His essenceinfused her.

She hated when he rolled away, though he took her with him,positioning her on the hard pillow of his chest.

He captured her head and tugged it down to his. Sealed hermouth with a long, wet kiss. By the time it was over, she was giddy. And herarousal was stirring again.

“Ah, Violet.” His lips moved to her temple. “That was wonderful.”

Contentment coiled through her. Satisfaction that she, inher innocence, had been able to please him.

He’d been someone special to her, her whole life.

And now she was special to him.

He thumbed her bruise. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She smiled. Yes, her jaw still ached but the rest of herbody ached more and overrode the pain. And the ache of her body was a pleasantone. “No, Ewan.”

He blew out a laugh. “Because I can’t seem to control myselfwhen I’m with you.”

“I don’t mind.” She pressed a kiss on his scratchy beard,right on the spot that had started all this.

He drew her into his arms and cradled her. She nestled hernose in the crook of his neck and drew in his scent. It filled her. Delightedher.

“Don’t moan like that or I’ll be hard and ready again.”

“Was I moaning?”

“You were.” He kissed her brow. “I could stay like this allday.”

“Me too.” She cuddled closer. She could have. All day.Forever.

But a scratch at the door intruded on the welling peace.

Ewan growled low in his throat, muttering a curse she didn’tthink she’d ever heard before. He set her gently to the side and wrapped ablanket around his lean hips. She watched him storm to the door, enjoying thesight of his broad, naked back with all those undulating muscles. The scars nowhad a new meaning.

He’d earned them—some of them at any rate—for her.

He opened the door a crack and snapped, “What is it?”

Violet didn’t hear the murmured response but she recognizedPip’s voice. Whatever the boy said annoyed Ewan. He grunted and slammed thedoor. He dropped the blanket and started hunting about for his braes. “Colin’shere,” he said.

She sat up, not bothering to cover herself. Why should she?He’d seen it all, tasted it all, by now. “Who’s Colin?”