The Lover (31 page)

When she tentatively brushed her mouth against his, he felt his entire body clench. Her kiss tasted incredibly sweet, but the anticipation of the lovemaking to come was even sweeter. Closing his eyes, Niall lay back, leaving her solely in command.

Her first fledgling steps were uncertain. He felt her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the laces of his shirt, but she refused to allow him to aid her. She bared the strong column of his throat to her lips, but then seemed to falter.

When she hesitated, he murmured helpfully, “My shirt, mouse. Remove it.”

Sabrina wanted to demand “How?” Frustratingly her arms were tangled in his plaid, permitting her little access or room to maneuver.

Biting her lower lip, she rose to her knees. The plaid fell away from their bodies, but she scarcely noticed the chill, so intent was she in easing the lower hem of Niall’s shirt from his belt and pulling the garment over his head. She felt devilishly alive, throbbing with a sense of adventure and excitement. Never in all her tame existence had she engaged in any escapade so scandalous or daring.

He lay very still, the moonlight outlining the sleek muscle and sinew of his powerful chest, his breathing controlled, faintly rapid.

Sabrina drew a deep breath, remembering his counsel:
Don’t be afraid to be a woman…

Placing her palms against his skin, she smoothed her hands up his torso, tantalized by the heat and hardness of him. Never before had she seen such perfection. It made her wild to possess all of him. Tonight she wanted to conquer him as he had conquered her.

“Now, what will you do, sweeting?” he taunted when she hesitated.

“I shall think of something.”

His lips curled with that dangerous, sensual smile that had the power to liquefy her limbs. “I trust you will.”

Reaching down, her fingers found his strong, sinewed thigh. Briefly she stroked the hair-roughened flesh, pausing at the hem of his kilt.

She heard the light, quick intake of his breath as her fingers crept upward, felt the hot coil of tension in his body. The muscles in his hard stomach quivered.

Relying on instinct, she raised his kilt to his waist, baring his splendid, blatant erection.

The vital depths of his eyes caught like kindling.

Deliberately she closed her fingers gently around him. The thick length surged in her hand, iron-hard yet silken to the touch. She felt his breath heat and quicken.

“Temptress,” he murmured.

Perhaps she was indeed a temptress, Sabrina thought triumphantly. In truth, there was a brazen little witch inside her she’d never before perceived.

Emboldened, her fingers curled more tightly around the heated shaft, squeezing gently, exciting her as well as him. She was dazed, heady with the incredible power she felt as he opened himself to her touch…the sense of being in control, a realization of her own femininity. He was all hers, to do with what she would.

“I want to please you,” she murmured.

“You do please me, lass.”

Unconsciously she allowed her instincts to take over, fondling the soft sacs beneath his rigid member, squeezing, kneading, teasing….

When she saw the intent look of pleasure on his face, Sabrina recalled what Niall had once told her…that one day she would willingly kiss and caress him between his thighs, pleasuring him with her mouth the way he had her.

Still holding him in her hand, she boldly bent her head. Shivering with delight, she pressed a kiss on his hard flesh.

“Sabrina…” His voice was throaty, rough—and yet he had no desire to protest the swelling sublime anticipation as she ventured further into the realm of wicked passion.

Incredibly she lowered her lips again to his throbbing groin, where his manhood strained in hot, unrelieved arousal. Niall sucked in his breath sharply when her warm mouth lightly caressed him.

“Is…this,” she asked uncertainly as she drew back a little, “the correct way?”

“Exquisitely correct,” he rasped with a husky laugh.

His rough chuckle disintegrated into a strangled moan when, with her tongue, she lightly traced the pulsing length of his erection. It quivered at her touch, growing perceptively.

“And this…?” She licked him tentatively, with a sensual innocence that was maddening.

“Sweet mercy, aye.” His hand involuntarily came up to cradle the back of her head, offering guidance as she tongued him. “God…what you do to me.”

Erotically she roamed with slow thoroughness, instinctively experimenting with her unskilled caresses, tasting Niall as he had done her…savoring the feel of his beautiful manhood throbbing, begging for her touch…reveling in the power of his body…relishing the novelty of having her sensual, carnally sophisticated husband at her mercy.

And then she took him in her mouth.

Niall arched on the plaid as desire shot through his groin, white-hot and explosive. Pleasure poured through his senses as she sucked gently, and he groaned, the sound agonized in the hush of the night. He had taught her too well.

His hand clenched in her hair. “Sweet saints, you’re testing my fortitude, love. If we continue this, I’ll not vouch for my control.”

“Good,” Sabrina murmured, intoxicated by her feminine power. Her hunger turned to greed as she feasted on his sweet, marble-hard flesh.

“Bonny witch…come here…”

Swept away by the fierce thundering of his blood, he reached for her and dragged her into his arms, his body hard with need, taut against her softness. “Ride me…”

His gaze plunged deeper into hers as he positioned her above his wild pulsing erection, anticipation screaming through his senses. Niall made a deep raw sound as he felt her glide lusciously around him, his lips parting as they emitted a broken breath.
Agony,
he thought, sheathing himself to the hilt in her welcoming heat. Every sleek velvet inch of her.

His hands splayed possessively over her back as he penetrated deeper, then protectively moved lower, trying to still the sensual movement of her hips. When she rocked gently, he shuddered, seizing a raw breath, savage need held barely in check.

“No…” she commanded breathlessly, determined to retain control. “You are to remain still.”

“While…you…torment me?”

“Precisely.”

The fierceness of her desire to give him pleasure was part of her need for him. She glided down with exquisite slowness, then lifted herself up, until she found a sensual rhythm, her tight sheath embracing him with an urgent demand. His hands kneaded her buttocks for an instant, then clenched tightly as a violent hunger caught him by surprise. His face contorted with pleasure and pain as desire, savage and blinding, ripped through him. It was her name he groaned when he exploded into bliss.

Sabrina felt the convulsive clench of his body, every pulsebeat of his hot shuddering release as he poured himself into her.

He was still vibrating with powerful aftershocks when his arms tightened around her, drawing her down. She went willingly, burying her face in the wide protection of his shoulder, her naked breasts pillowed in the warm skin of his chest. She felt powerfully female, deliciously weak, even though her body was still feverish for his touch.

With a sigh, she nestled against his hard, muscled length, cherishing the closeness. She wanted to remain like this forever, treasured in his embrace. Perhaps she might have to, Sabrina thought with a faint wry smile. Certainly she could not return to the celebration like this. She would never be able to explain her dishabille.

“Forgive me, lass,” she heard Niall murmur huskily.

“Forgive you?”

She felt the warm pressure of his lips at her temple, his hand scraping the tangled veil of her hair to one side. “For my impatience. You did not reach your pleasure.”

“Oh, that. It doesn’t signify.” In truth, she didn’t mind. It was satisfying enough to have aroused her sensual, hedonistic husband to the point where he lost his much-vaunted control.

“Ah, that rankled. Signify, indeed. ’Twas inexcusably remiss of me.”

“No, truly…”

His hands on her bare shoulders, he lifted her up so he could meet her gaze. “Am I to understand you would not care if I left you unsatisfied?”

She hesitated to confess her need, the wild longing he had aroused so effortlessly in her. A flush suffused her cheeks as she remained silent.

“Are you still hot for me?”

She could answer that truthfully. “Yes…”

He smiled that celebrated smile, devastating and suggestive. “Never let it be said that I left a lass unfulfilled.”

Amazingly she felt his shaft start to fill and throb again within her. Giving her no time to protest, he drew her down till his mouth could reach her throbbing breasts. His lips closed over a nipple that was pebble-hard with desire, and instantly the flames in her body fanned to life.

He laved the sensitive swollen tip, pulling at her flesh, nipping softly. When he began to suck hard, Sabrina gasped at the exquisite sensation.

With a husky murmur of triumph, he rolled over her, pinning her beneath him. His hands caressed her hips, then slid under her buttocks to cup and squeeze and lift her tighter against him.

“Say you want me, sweeting.”

She shuddered with delight. “Yes…Niall…I want you.”

Pressing her honeyed thighs wide, he thrust deeper. Sabrina went rigid at the unbearable surge of pleasure, the overwhelming sense of being penetrated and filled. But it was his look that made her heart nearly stop beating. His jeweled eyes glimmering in the darkness held a tender sensuality that made her feel cherished, desired. She could almost believe it was love she saw there in his gaze…

Sheer madness, she reflected dazedly.

He drove deeper still and she gasped, arching her back at the almost unbearable fullness enveloping and possessing her. Yet Niall gave her no surcease. He made love to her with a slow, lingering power, assuaging and intensifying the terrible sweet ache within her at the same time.

He took her with long, deep, protracted strokes, driving himself unhurriedly, fully, into her, till her slender body twisted against him, writhing helplessly.

“Aye, sweet Sabrina,” he urged against her lips. “Be reckless for me…be wanton and hungry.”

She obeyed, having no choice. As the explosive delight built relentlessly, she said his name in a raw, ragged voice and caught at his shoulders, her nails digging into his sleek skin. When the first convulsive tremors began, he fitted his mouth over hers, deeply, muffling her cries of ecstasy. She clung to him, shaking as he plunged harder, faster…

Only when she lunged frantically against him, sobbing, did he relax the rigid control he had maintained over himself. His body contracted like a bow, raking her with violent possession, claiming…pitching them both into a wild, heated dimness before the firestorm finally peaked.

Niall sank upon her, grimacing at the tumultuous pleasure flowing through him. The satisfaction was shattering…again.

They lay in each other’s arms, exchanging heartbeats, sprawled in a tangle of hair, limbs, and pleasure. He could feel Sabrina’s body still trembling, feel his
own
trembling.

At the realization, Niall shut his eyes, shocked by the power of the relentless climax he’d just endured. He couldn’t remember when a woman’s touch had elicited such a wrenching response in him.

It should be impossible.
He
was the seducer. He was the sensualist. With all his vast expertise, he should be able to control his rampant desire with any wench, most definitely with a virginal, unschooled lass who made no claim to beauty or feminine art.

He shook his head, marveling at the incredible hunger his innocent bride had aroused in him. He had planned simply to make love to Sabrina, but his strategy had foundered somewhere between the first sweet kiss and the second. His only intent was making her sexually responsive, awakening all the exquisite, undiscovered passion in that lovely body, yet he had become lost in the explosive ecstasy himself…twice.

His powerful response had startled him. Never had he expected to experience such fierce need himself, such feverish craving…or this haze of contentment that wrapped around him now. He felt almost intoxicated, as if he’d drunk too much potent
usqueba
.

Mayhap he was losing his touch.

With a sensual sigh, Niall shrugged aside the serious thought. He would do better to merely savor his bride’s wanton surrender, to simply enjoy the pleasure of the moment.

“
That
is how you stay warm on a raw night, mouse,” he breathed faintly when he could speak.

Sabrina’s low, hesitant reply was just as faint, no more than a whisper, but he heard it. “Would you…perhaps…mind showing me again?”

Remarkably he felt his male flesh stir. Drawing her close, Niall laughed helplessly against her hair.

“’Twould be my pleasure,” he murmured, before resettling her body beneath him once more.

    Chapter    
Twelve

Thus began a magical time for Sabrina, engendered by Niall’s sensual, bewitching spell. They spent nights of heated enchantment together, tangled in each other’s arms. She wanted to touch him a thousand times a day, and when he was away, he preyed constantly on her mind and heart.