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And she was of no small heart. No small courage.

Chin high, Elina stripped the nightdress over her head and threw it aside.

Despite her boldness, a blush burned over every inch of her skin as she crawled in from the foot of the bed, feeling the dark gleam of his eyes upon her. He murmured something—Elina knew not what, but by the appreciative rumble, the husky edge of it, she thought he might have said she looked lovely again. Maybe not only lovely. Perhaps he’d also said delicious. So delicious he would eat her up.

And if he had not said that, she would pretend he did.

Instead of stretching out alongside him, she knelt at his right side and sat back on her heels.

Her fingers hovered over his pectoral. “May I?”

His big hand enfolded hers and brought it to his chest. Beneath her palm, his heart beat deep and steady…and steadily quickening. Elina could be in no doubt of his arousal. That she could easily see, though she was not brave enough to move the sheet. Not yet.

Instead she leaned forward, cupping his hard jaw, sliding her thumb over his firm lips. His head tilted back to meet hers when she bent down to kiss him. Softly, gently. Exploring the shape of his mouth with her lips, though she soon found it was an awkward position, with her arm braced beside his head to support the twist of her upper body over his.

His hand curved over her hip and nudged her closer. It took a moment to understand what he intended, for there was no closer. Unless she straddled him.

So she did, her lips never leaving his as her torso untwisted, as she was rendered breathless by the solid heat of his body between her thighs—or when she began laughing against his mouth.

A low rumble from his throat queried the reason.

She lifted away a few inches, shaking her head. But why not say? “It is only that Nanny Char and Dara said barbarians will do this on a horse, and do it like a horse—yet now I am astride as if you are the horse. And though it is true you are nearly as big as one, I am just glad you are not so ugly as yours.”

His big hand clasped her nape and hauled her down for more kisses, peppering them over her face, her lips, her jaw, all the while his body shaking as if gripped by laughter. Perhaps he, too, had been diverted by a stray thought—or her amusement had sparked his. Whatever the reason, it faded soon enough. His mouth returned to her lips and his kiss deepened. The first slide of his tongue over hers sent her spinning into whirlpool of shuddering need, and continued until she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

Near drowning in his kiss, she broke away, panting and trembling not only from his touch but from the effort of bracing herself above him.

She rested her forehead against his. “I wish I was stronger for you.”

His hand smoothed up her side. His rumbling reply was reassuring, admiring.

She truly liked everything he said to her. Not a word did she understand but his meaning was clear.

So were his intentions when he rolled Elina onto her back. He rose over her trembling form, his thighs straddling her hips though he put none of his weight upon her. Then he kissed her again, not softly or gently but as if he hungered for the taste of her. As if she truly was delicious.

His warm hand cupped her breast and she gasped into his mouth. It was too much, his kiss and his touch. Then he teased her nipple with his thumb, pinching her sensitive flesh, and she could not stop the cry that escaped her. For an instant it crossed her mind that they might soon be set upon by any knights who heard that faint scream—until Warrick murmured against her mouth, as if approving her loud response. As if praising her for the pleasure she’d taken in his touch. After that, Elina could no longer care if her entire retinue piled into her tent to watch, so long as Warrick did not stop kissing her.

And he did not stop, though he abandoned her lips. But the kisses continued, down her throat to the center of her chest, teasing her skin with his tongue and teeth until she was shaking with need, and the need for more. For Warrick to taste her nipple as he had before. Then, wonderful man, he latched onto her breast with a suckling kiss that made her clutch his head and writhe with the exquisite pleasure of it.

How the wanton ache in her nipples took up a second residence between her thighs, she didn’t know. Yet Warrick seemed to. Because he began kissing his way down her stomach as if he understood exactly where to go. His body slid farther down the bed, and it seemed the entire world spun around her when he urged her legs apart.

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