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She starved for him to thrust into her. He was starving, too. She could smell his need on his skin.

"You’re as hot as a fire," she said in wonder, stroking down his spine to clasp his firm male buttocks with eager hands.

"You make me burn."

She believed it. His eyes glittered with desire, and his rod was an insistent presence against her soft belly.

He kissed her hard, if too briefly, but she forgave him when he began to nip and nuzzle at her neck. Roderick had never kissed her there. Roderick had been interested in accomplishing the deed without undue effort. She’d had no idea that such a universe of pleasure awaited in another man’s arms. With every scrape of Brock’s teeth, every brush of Brock’s lips, thrills sizzled through her and the pulsing, needy weight between her legs grew more urgent.

She arched up with a broken moan, a silent plea for more. When he’d pushed inside her in the carriage, she felt complete for the first time in her life. She couldn’t wait to experience that glory again. The shift in position brushed the aching tips of her breasts across the light covering of dark hair on his chest, and the tickling friction set her aquiver with arousal.

"Brock, please…" she said, unable to put into words what she wanted.

He raised his head from where he tormented her to madness and stared down into her face. His green eyes were as dark as a forest pond. "I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you, Selina."

A warm rush of pleasure washed over her, heightening her desire. "I want you now," she rasped out.

His lips curled with the hint of teasing that always made her melt. She’d never imagined that the act of love could encompass light as well as darkness. Brock had promised her joy. With him, she discovered joy had many faces, beyond the cataclysm of sexual climax.

"Soon."

Despite her urgency, she smiled back. "You’re a tormenting beggar."

"I want to taste your breasts first. They’ve fueled my dreams, too."

His honesty drew a confession from her. "I’ve often imagined your hands on me."

His soft, surprised laugh bumped her deeper into the mattress beneath her back. "Have you indeed, you naughty lass?"

"I…I imagined you doing a lot of things to me."

"My darling…" He bent his head and traced a path of fire across her shoulder and down the slope of her breast. Her nipples tightened to the point of pain, and she bowed up in wordless encouragement.

He shifted and caught her breasts in his hands, drawing a hiss of pleasure from her as he squeezed. Then overpowering sensation vanquished her ability to breathe, as he drew one yearning nipple between his lips and brushed his thumb across the other.

Roderick had been rough, tugging on her nipples with painful enthusiasm. Brock’s touch was much more subtle. Gentle suckling on the tip made her sigh, and his hands were careful. Soon gentleness faded, and the wash of delight transformed into restless longing that had her gasping and writhing. She buried her hands in the rumpled silk of his hair and stretched up for more of that fiendish delight. His tongue laved her nipple, then she started as his teeth scraped over the sensitive flesh. A ribbon of flame licked down from her breast to her constricting womb.

By the time he raised his head, she was quaking as if she had a fever. Her vision was misty with almost unbearable arousal.

"You have beautiful breasts, Selina. My dreams didn’t do you justice."

"My dreams didn’t do you justice either," she admitted, running her hand down the side of his face. He’d shaved before dinner, but now soft whiskers prickled her palm. "Please, I need you inside me. Don’t wait any longer. I ache for you."

His smile this time was tender. "Let me ease your need."

"You do," she said on an exhalation, angling her hips in unabashed demand. "I crave you."

He lifted himself on his elbows until he could see her face. His gaze unwavering, he pushed forward with a smoothness that still astonished her. This was their first day as lovers, yet there was no awkwardness, no jostling to find their connection. Instead, there was this transcendent closeness, as though every time Brock joined with her, he claimed her soul.

Her overstimulated body clenched into immediate climax, closing hard around him. As she rode out the turbulent waves, she cried out again and dug her fingernails into his shoulders.

Brock groaned and buried his head in the curve of her neck, grazing her with his teeth. She was shuddering with reaction when Brock began to move, the powerful possession stoking her wild rapture.

Selina was breathless and trembling as she drifted down from the heights. Then to her amazement, response flickered to life once more, as Brock set up a deep, driving rhythm that crushed her into the bed. After such a climax, she would have thought rising to another so swiftly was impossible, but soon she was shaking. He kept moving within her, penetrating so deep that she felt he took ownership of every inch of her.

The next time, her womb contracted before she even recovered from the previous ascent. She rose to meet him, kissing him with all the passion she felt.

At last, his superhuman control showed signs of shredding. He groaned again and caught her hips, tilting her. The new angle fired off a fresh volley of fireworks. She moaned and clutched tight to Brock’s shoulders, slick with sweat.


Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical