Thoughts of reaching for that knife slipped easily away.
Already aroused by her own hand and the lapping of those cool waves, the sensation reached a new level at the awe-inspiring sight of this stranger. Between her legs it felt as if she was melting, opening to fit him. Her nipples swelled against her arms, so she decided to stop hiding them. After all, he’d already seen, and he wasn’t shy about showing her his splendid proportions. She rested her arms on the edge of the bath and let him look his fill of her too. His eyes grew hot. They reminded her suddenly of her brothers’ gyrfalcon looking down at her through its little hood. Except this man’s eyes were not black like the bird; they were blue, shockingly fine, gleaming like stumbled-upon precious gemstones in his dirt-streaked, unshaven face.
She was the prey. He just hadn’t decided which part of her to eat first.
The danger only added to her excitement.
Deorwynn sat straighter, the bottom curve of her breasts resting just above the water. She glanced down at her nipples—rosy and pert, enjoying the unblinking attention from his gaze. It was wrong to encourage him, but she couldn’t stop herself; she wanted this handsome stranger to look at her body. Parting her knees again, she let them rest against the sides of the tub, keeping her hands out of the way.
From where he stood he could look down into the water, but it was cloudy now with soap residue and the remnant of dried herbs. He might see little teasing glimpses but not everything.
Closer he moved, almost casually, handling his heavy balls and blushing cock.
First one and then the other, she propped her legs over the sides of the bath and lifted her lower body toward the surface, until her tiny, golden pubic curls floated in the foggy water, just within his view.
A low, tense grunt rumbled through his chest. He knelt beside the bath. Just as she began to fall back into the water, his thick arm shot out and he grabbed her possessively, his massive hand cupping her sex, holding her up by it. She felt his pulse, pounding through his big palm and into her soaking pussy as he held her. His middle finger was in the crack of her ass, while the pad of his thumb pressed on her mound and his palm squeezed her labia.
Deorwynn gasped, the pressure almost hurting, but feeling too good to make him stop. Not that he would, she thought, looking up at his hard face, tight jaw and those stunning, clear, blue eyes. He would do what he wanted with her.
A shiver ran through her body from that point where he held her so intimately. It spread through her limbs and all the way to her brain, obscuring any other sensation but this shuddering, keening desire.
His hand was tanned and rough next to her light, smooth skin and the golden hair of her womanhood. The bones in his fingers were thick, long and powerful. He carefully wriggled his thumb between her labia and bent his head to take her left breast in his mouth. She leaned back, head hanging over the end of the bath, the rim pressing into her neck. His teeth nipped her, his tongue flicked over her nipple and then he took it between his lips and drew gently upon it. She arched in the water, hands gripping the sides, legs dangling, useless, over the edge, her heels thudding against the wood panels. At his mercy he held her—hand at one end, mouth at the other—and played her like an instrument.
Then he eased his trembling thumb further into her pussy and his lips slipped from her nipple while he turned his head, observing his hand at work. His gaze grew even more intense.
Warm spasms shook her violently. His fierce blue eyes, raking her body, worshipping her so heatedly, sent her over the edge into blissful oblivion.
* * * *
His bride was a virgin. Elation swept his blood like fire through a dry forest. He’d assumed the worst. Now, feeling the barrier exactly where it should be, he kept his thumb there a while, imagining how her tight sheath would feel tomorrow around his cock when he mounted her. The beautiful woman arched in the water, her buttocks squeezing his middle finger almost as hard as the silky inner walls of her cunt clamped around his broad thumb.
She must know he was her intended, he reasoned, or she would never allow him these liberties. Should a high-born lady be this willing to let him play? No matter. He wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Since she’d let him touch her that way, she’d better damn well know he was her betrothed.
His cock was fit to burst at the thought of all this being his, but he couldn’t fuck her yet. Not until they were married. He wanted this done the right way. All of it. He was no longer a mercenary full of bloodlust, was he? Guy Devaux was now a knight with his own coat of arms and he would have his lady on their wedding night, in his private chamber, as it should be. That was proper. That was what respectable men did with this thing called a wife. There were whores and then there were wives. One should not be mistaken for the other, so he’d been told.