He seemed to understand her concern. "Just close your eyes and feel. Don't hold back."
His big, rough hands then began to stroke along her body, starting little fires wherever he touched. He cupped her breast and ran his thumb across its tip, evoking a gasp from her at the sudden, pleasurable sensation.
"So beautiful," he whispered and closed his mouth over her breast. She gasped again. In truth, she was having trouble catching her breath as he began to suckle and swirl his tongue in languid strokes across the tip of it, soon followed by intensifying flicks.
"John!" Mother in heaven, she felt everything. How could she possibly hold back when every pulse in her body was throbbing and her blood was on fire?
In no time, he'd ignited her desire so that her skin was molten and about to burst into flames.
She clutched his shoulders.
She arched her back, desperate to quell the scorching heat within her. But the touch of his lips upon her body intensified her wanton needs. The sensual roughness of his day's growth of beard caused her skin to tingle wherever he touched.
Then he moved lower.
"Open for me, Nicola," he said with a huskiness to his voice that shot more tingles through her body.
She did not know what he meant by the request until he gently nudged her legs apart and set his shoulders under them. Then his mouth came down upon her most intimate spot. She was shocked by the feel of his tongue on her, but the urge to protest died in her throat. A delicious heat began to build inside of her. How was it possible when she was already on fire? The blood coursing through her veins was a hot, thick pool of desire.
She was lost to him and he knew it.
He meant to claim her, to mark her as his, for he was no longer the protector, but the hunter capturing his prey. He captured her with the hot touch of his mouth and the gentle stroke of his fingers. She clutched the headboard, afraid she might float into the clouds if she did not hold fast to something solid.
His tongue swirled on her … thrust inside her. "John. Oh … my, heavens." She could feel the tug and strain of his muscles against her calves. This had to be sinful. It felt too deliciously wicked to be anything other than a forbidden pleasure.
Why had she never read about this in her scandalous books?
Obviously, she was reading the wrong books.
Heat built within her. Her heart pounded with a roar so that she heard nothing but its frantic beat. She felt nothing but the mounting pressure between her legs. Just as she thought she might explode, he moved off her to remove his breeches. She felt cool air against her most intimate part and then felt the hard length of him as he positioned himself over her. "Nicola … "
"Yes, I want you." Was that desperate, aching voice hers?
She held out her arms to him and felt the damp warmth of his skin as he enveloped her in his embrace. His sinewed heat and the strength of him surrounded her. She felt a moment's pain when he entered her, his thrusts cautious at first. He must have wanted her body to grow used to his before he allowed himself to lose control.
Would he lose control? She hardly dared believe that she held such power over him. He was guarded in everything he did. But she saw his iron control slipping, saw the wild heat in his hunter eyes, the feral strain of his body as he fully embedded himself inside her and began their wild mating dance.
The discomfort she'd felt now melted away.
She closed her eyes as exquisite sensations washed over her. The feel of his chest rubbing against hers. The iron bands of his arms wrapped around her body. The gentleness and strength of his hands guiding her movements to match his.
She gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging in and afraid to let go, for he was carrying her along on a magical journey and she did not want it to end. Mother in heaven, the sensations he evoked! The slick heat of him inside of her. The rugged, masculine scent of him. Sandalwood and saddle leather. The salty taste of his skin.
The arousing touch of his rough, calloused fingers along her skin. He was making her feel him. Making her know him. Know his scent. Know the taste of his mouth on hers. Know his touch upon her skin.
An overwhelming pressure built inside her. She tried to hold down this unfamiliar feeling, but it was to no avail. She was caught in its powerful grip and carried on a scorching wave crest of desire. More waves followed, endless waves that swelled and crested, lifting her to shuddering and explosive heights. "I'm lost to you, John. I love you."
Had John heard her whispered revelation? Her voice sounded muffled, for her heart was pounding as loud as the roar of a lion and echoing between her own ears.
"John. John," she whispered, kissing his face.
She loved this man with all her being.
Her heart was his.
With a deep, grunting thrust, he experienced his own release. His liquid essence spilled inside of her. His eyes were smoldering embers. His big shoulders were taut and his muscles straining. He was a magnificent creature, wild and powerful, and wanting her.
She clutched his shoulders as he gave a final, shuddering thrust and collapsed atop her, his skin warm and damp from the exquisite heat of his pleasure.
He did not have to tell her that he loved her.
She knew it without words, for he'd spilled his seed inside of her.
He was no untried youth who could not contain himself. He knew what the consequences of their mating might bring. A child. His child.
He could have held back. He could have withdrawn, but he hadn't. "I love you," she whispered again, knowing he would never repeat the words to her. But by his actions, she knew that he had given himself to her.
As their passion began to cool, their ragged breaths and gasps and moans of pleasure dying down, John carefully pulled out of her and then sank onto his back. After a long moment, he grinned at her, then reached out and drew her back into his arms. "How do you feel?"
She smiled at him. "Quite starry-eyed, if you must know. I never considered … I had no idea … I floated to the stars."
"So did I."
"Don't tease me, John."
He growled softly, a raw, predatory growl that shot tingles through her body. He rolled her atop him and kissed her on the nose. "I'm serious. You are an enchantress."
She playfully swatted his shoulder and laughed. "Now I know you're teasing me."
"Cross my heart, it's the truth." He kissed her once more, this time on the lips. "Come on, brat. Time to get up."
She scampered off him and out of bed, but paused to look back at him as he rose, splendid and naked, on the other side of the bed. He was the enchanting one, his body as magnificent as any Greek warrior god depicted in marble. "What is it, Nicola?"
She drew her robe on to cover herself, but she wasn't embarrassed so much as cold now that the fire had died, leaving only a few embers glowing in the hearth. "We're truly married."
He grunted. "Yes, for better or for worse."
She frowned lightly. "It will always be for the better. We have each other now. You are no longer alone, John. Although I will respect your privacy whenever you feel the need for it."
He shook his head and laughed. "Nicola, I know you too well. You will trample all over my privacy. I shall never have a moment's peace." He came around to her side of the bed and drew her into his arms. "But it isn't a bad thing. You grow on a man."
"Like mold on tree bark?"
He sighed. "Your description, not mine. There is nothing moldy about you. Wash up and get dressed. It's almost sunrise."
They used the last ewer of fresh water to wash themselves, then John helped her to dress and then dressed himself. "There are tarts left over from last night. Have one before we go."
He reached over and grabbed one for himself, devouring it in two bites. He checked his pouch once again to assure himself the book and rolled-up deciphering parchment was still there, then buckled it and tossed it over his shoulder. "We'll stop at an inn along the way and fill our bellies with something hot and nourishing. Hopefully, Somersby's men will be nowhere about."
She quickly finished braiding her hair and then grabbed her shawl. "I'm ready."
John opened the door, holding her back while he checked to see if anyone was stirring. "All clear."
He took her hand in his while they hurried outside to fetch Valor. John saddled him and led him out of the stable before assisting her up and climbing on behind her. She nestled against his chest and let the warmth of his arms encircle her, feeling a moment of contentment.
Did John feel the same?
She doubted it.
He was once again tense and alert, his hunter-predator instincts in full control as he spurred Valor to a canter. Within moments, they lost sight of the stable and were swallowed up in the gray mist that clung to the crags and valleys.