She was naked, after all.
Though he had flipped the bed clothes back up to cover her, a gallant when she wanted a rogue.
She knew with a woman’s instinct that he burned for her. His gaze seared her skin and she’d seen his eyes darken when she’d dropped the drying cloth. She was also aware of the hard length of him beneath his hose, the thickness and size of him making her belly flutter. A man couldn’t hide his desire and Grim’s was blatant, the large bulge and its meaning utterly unmistakable.
Yet something held him back.
“You said you love me, yet you suggest we wait to join our bodies,” Breena voiced her concern, needing this night to be perfect, magical. “I have shared my feelings, so—”
“Are you no’ afraid?” His dear face looked concerned in the soft light of the candle. “If you’ve one care, a single worry, tell me and I’ll kiss each one away until nary a troublesome thought remains.”
It was then that she knew what bothered him.
Why he hesitated to claim her.
“Ralla and his men never truly touched me.” She lifted up on her elbows, uncaring that the bed coverlet slipped down to reveal her breasts. Indeed, she was glad to display them. Having him look at her with love and appreciation warmed her to the core, even curling her toes, so good was the feeling.
Emboldened, she brushed the covering aside, freeing herself entirely to his view. “They may have used me, even taking my innocence, but they didn’t touch me, inhabit my heart and soul.
“No man has ever done that, though I am waiting for you to do so.” She let her gaze flick to his manhood, straining against his hose, and oh so prominent. “I know you want me. Then take me, Grim. Please.”
“If I even lay a finger to you there’ll be no’ stopping me.” He stepped closer to the bed, slowly shaking his head as he approached. His gray eyes were dark as charcoal as he looked over every bared inch of her. He let his gaze drift from her toes to her face and back down again, lingering along the way at the places she knew men most appreciated. “You are lovelier than winter’s first delicate snowflakes and I fear I may crush you, but—” he broke off, staring as she deliberately parted her knees, knowing what he’d see.
She couldn’t believe her daring.
But she wouldn’t let this night pass without their sealing their vows, and doing so properly.
“Bluidy hell!” His gaze locked on the wedge of red curls she’d revealed. The fierceness of his expression almost scorched her.
She bit back a smile, shifting so her thighs opened a bit more.
Doing so was her first line of offense, a seduction trick she’d once overheard in Ireland when she’d happened to stand near two joy women at a country fair. Apparently it worked, for Grim actually growled, making an almost feral sound deep in his chest as he reached up and yanked off his undertunic. He cast it aside and quickly removed his boots. Then he shoved down his hose until he was as naked as she was.
In a flash, he was on the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her ravenously. It was a bold, openmouthed kiss and he thrust his tongue deep, plundering her lips as if he drank her in, taking life-bringing sustenance from their shared breath and the heated swirls of their tongues.
“Don’t stop kissing me, please.” Breena clung to him, pulling back only long enough to voice her wish against his beard. “I couldn’t bear it.”
“Precious lass, I would kiss every inch of you and then start all over again when I’m done.” He smoothed his big warm hand up and down her side, his tongue now tangling even more languorously with hers. When he cupped her breast, rolling his thumb back and forth over her nipple, she would’ve cried out at the pleasure if she hadn’t wanted him to keep kissing her.
“I’ll kiss you always, my love,” he promised, as if he’d heard her thoughts. “Even when I am in you, indeed, I’ll kiss you most thoroughly then.”
“I’m on fire now.” Breena was, for he’d captured her wrists in one hand, lifting her arms over her head. He stopped kneading her breasts and let that hand glide lower, down the smooth expanse of her belly, and to the wondrous place that tingled so deliciously. “I can’t bear any more—”
“Aye, you can.” He locked gazes with her as he skimmed his fingers oh-so-lightly over her feminine curls. Not quite touching her, but so close to doing so that each pass of his stroking fingertips was the most exquisite torment. “A woman should aye be caressed into pleasure.” He cupped her then, squeezing slightly, the unexpected pressure so heady, so incredibly pleasurable, that she rocked her hips, needing more, aching for something both urgent and indescribable. “Only when you are well and truly ready, will I take you, my heart.”