Page 38 of An Outlaw’s Desire

She shuddered, craving his mouth on hers. Hungering for his kiss.

“He…did touch me. Pleasure me.”

“Good. I am glad he was not so selfish as to deny your needs.”

A sob lodged in her throat. What irony. With their bodies touching, she’d never been more aware of her needs.

She wanted and needed him.

Hellfire. If he wasn’t careful, every risk he’d taken tonight would have been for naught.

How Pitt yearned to lose himself in her; to forget all but the chance to love her the way he’d wanted to years ago.

Her late husband might have shown her pleasure, but she’d never experienced coupling as ’twas meant to be between a man and woman.

His groin heated, because he could show her just how very good it could be.

He might never get the chance again.

Ah, God, what he would give to lie with her now. ’Twould need to be her decision, though, and he was a wretched fool to hope she wanted him as much as he did her.

He’d be wiser to say goodbye and leave.

Staring down at her, he gently cradled her face in his hand. Her head tipped back against the post. Her rose-red mouth opened a little more, and torn by his need for her, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Not a kiss; barely a touch of their mouths. But, she sighed, a sound of frustration, and tugged against her bindings.

Before he could release her, cloth whispered. Her arms went around his waist and her body flattened to his. She grinned up at him.

He squinted down at her. “You got free.”

“Finally, I can touch you. Hold you.”

His eyes burned. He didn’t deserve such generous emotions from her.

“I have missed you,” she said, even more softly.

“I have missed you.” And I want you now.

His gaze shifted to the bed behind her, and he fought not to think of her tumbling back onto the coverlet, moaning while he slid into her, and gasping as they thrust together.

Her hand slid into his. Then she stepped back, drawing him to the edge of bed.

“Blythe—”

“Grant me this wish. Please.”

She wanted to lie with him.

He dragged in a breath. “Are you certain?”

“I am. There is no reason why we cannot be together—if ’tis what we both desire.”

“I want it.”

Her fingers trailed down the front of his cloak. “’Tis what I have wanted since we first met years ago.”

He caught her wandering hand and gently pushed her back onto the mattress before removing his weapons belt and boots. As his cloak landed on the floor, he fought for patience. He didn’t want to rush her. His focus should be bringing her exquisite, shattering, unforgettable pleasure.

But, as he leaned over her, her hands slid under his tunic and then lower, to his hardness straining for release. When she cupped him, they both groaned.