Taming the Wolff by Del Robertson

Author:Del Robertson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781933113968
Publisher: Intaglio Publications
Published: 2008-12-15T23:04:36+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

THE LADY

When next I opened my eyes, she was gently suckling at my breast. I stretched languorously, enjoying the sensation. She moved easily into my arms. The kiss that claimed my lips was soft and gentle, but no less passionate than before. My mouth responded eagerly to hers.

I pul ed back, ending our kiss. My eyes sought hers.

The often murky depths of grey were now calm. She had nothing left to hide from my gaze. My hand reached out, my fingers stroking her cheek. Her face, usual y tight with apprehension, was now relaxed beneath my touch. My fingers found the bleached white line above her eye, tracing the scar. She rewarded me with a smile.

Once again, my mouth found hers. My tongue slipped easily between her lips, past her teeth. She sucked greedily at my tongue. I tasted myself on her lips, in her mouth. And the thought made my head swim.

My hands trembled as they journeyed towards the waistband of her breeches. She caught my shaking hands within her own. “It’s fine.” She tenderly dropped hands within her own. “It’s fine.” She tenderly dropped a kiss upon my forehead.

“It hardly seems fair.”

“What?”

“You’ve had me three times now.” And each time, she had managed to send me to higher and higher levels of ecstasy. There was no reprieve from those thorough fingers and that talented mouth. “I haven’t even gotten your breeches off of you.”

With a delighted laugh, she flipped over onto her back. Hands above her, gripping the headboard, she stretched out her body, offering it up for my approval.

“Do with me as you wil , my lady.”

A wicked smile played upon my lips. “Rest assured, I wil , my captain.”

I had resigned myself long before to the knowledge that I loved her. I loved a woman. No matter what my family, my country, my church might decree. I had wanted her desperately. Stil , though, it took al my courage to give myself over to her.

It wasn’t courage that fueled my actions now. But lust. Love. For I knew I did belong to this woman. I had lied to her—and myself—with every excuse, every denial that sprang forth from my lips. After al the months of temptation and torture, I had final y given in to what I wanted. And desired. And needed.

to what I wanted. And desired. And needed.

My eyes drank their fil , my gaze sweeping over her body. Her breasts were smal . Smal er than mine. But large enough to fil my hands. I had discovered that repeatedly as I clutched at her in the throes of passion.

I blushed at the memory.

Her body was lean, muscular, her stomach flat. A thin scar ran along her side, to the right of her navel, stretching to her hipbone at a smooth angle. Caused by some opponent’s lucky sword stroke, I reflected.

How different our lives were. There were days that I thought I would surely die of boredom, subjected to the torturous rigors of needlepoint and other such tasks as befel a lady of my standing.

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