her for hours and not tire of it. He could tell from her restless, innocent movements that she did not know what pleasure still awaited her.
This had not been part of her plan at all. She’d thought, when she had been able to think, that he would hold her and kiss her. Once he declared that he would not take her virginity, she thought she understood. But nothing, not even the way her body reacted to seeing him naked the other time, prepared her for the tumultuous, rolling waves of pleasure pulsing through her body now. Or for the way she wanted, she craved something more.
His mouth was hot and his tongue rough against hers. Her body wept in that place between her legs and throbbed there with every caress of his tongue as some pulse within her matched his every touch.
He lifted his head in spite of her effort to hold him to her and laughed. ‘Worry not. I am not through kissing you yet.’
She lost her breath at that promise and allowed him leave to move as he would. Ciara could not have imagined the pleasure of the way his beard felt as he kissed back down her body, teasing and rubbing her now-sensitive flesh. She waited and hoped he would kiss her breasts again and when he did, she arched over and over under his mouth, gasping at the feel of such a thing.
His mouth tormented her, soothed her and then tortured her over and over as anticipation built. Towards something, however—she knew not what. When his mouth moved from her breasts and then downwards, downwards towards that aching place, she stopped breathing. He laughed, the beast! He knew what he was doing to her and enjoyed it.
She reached out for his head, grabbing his hair and threading her hands through it, just as he kissed her mound. Ciara thought she might have moaned aloud then, but lost herself completely when he urged her to open to him. Her body and legs understood, spreading as he moved to kneel there.
Then he stopped.
Opening the eyes she didn’t even realise she’d clenched shut, she could see him staring at her. Staring there, between her legs. She tried to bring her legs together, but his body, his hard thighs blocked her. She leaned up on her elbows and tried to cover herself with her hand, but the wicked, wicked grin on his face stopped her.
‘Another place to kiss, Ciara.’
She felt the heat rush into her cheeks then. ‘Surely not?’ she whispered. Lips and mouths were for kissing. That place was for …
‘Ah, aye, lass. ’tis a splendid place to show you the true pleasure of a kiss.’
He kissed the inside of her thighs, tickling them with his beard’s growth and then moved closer and closer to the heated flesh that throbbed already. He smiled at her as he placed his mouth … there.
Her mind retreated from the intensity of the pleasure from it. Her body gave in and she lost control. Lips. Tongue. Teeth. Driving her mad and pushing her body and her soul on to something more. Ciara fell back on the bed and simply felt it all.
Spiralling pleasure, rolling through her body and mixing with tendrils of need and heat and hunger for him and what he did to her. She opened wider to him, allowing him whatever he wanted. Her body arched, pressing against his mouth harder, forcing his tongue deeper into that place.
She did scream then as her body shivered and trembled against his mouth. Something deep within her, something wound so tight she could not breath, loosened in an instant and wave upon wave of ecstasy rushed through her blood and into every part of her. She lost herself in that moment and only later did she realise that he lay now at her side, whispering to her.
Ciara did not know she cried until she felt him wiping the tears from her cheeks, kissing them away. After such abandonment of control, she did not know if she could meet his gaze. A gentle touch of his lips on hers convinced her to risk it.
And love shone back at her.
Chapter Eighteen
She was embarrassed.
She was magnificent.
He’d watched as she gave herself over to him and allowed him to give her pleasure. And he’d touched her with nothing but his mouth. He ached for release, but he would not seek it now—he would not bury himself deep within her still-pulsing flesh no matter how much he longed to do so. When her hand brushed against him, he hissed at the near-painful touch. Ciara pushed up on her elbows and looked at him, making it react.
‘Did I hurt you?’ she asked.
He laughed and shook his head. ‘You did not.’
‘But you did not …?’ She reached for him and he swore he would spill it if she uttered another word about it.
‘Nay. Worry not about it, lass.’
He began to sit up, to move away, when she put her hand on his chest and pushed him down. ‘’tis my turn to kiss you,’ she said, bold now, embarrassment clearly forgotten.
‘You will kill me.’
She laughed at that and shrugged. ‘Let us find out.’
No threat uttered by foe and friend ever filled him with such terror. The thought of her mouth on him, on his flesh, made him shake. She laughed at that, too, before kneeling over and staring at his body. He closed his eyes and threw his arm across them. Mayhap if he did not watch he could control himself?
The first touch of her mouth, on his nipples, proved that this battle would require every ounce of will within him and he still might lose. But when she moved lower and he felt the heat of her mouth and the tickling trail of her hair on his thighs, he knew he could never win.
She learned quickly, imitating everything he’d done with deadly accuracy. Unsure of what to do, she touched the tip of her tongue to him and he reacted suddenly.
‘Bad?’ she asked in a throaty voice.
‘Good,’ he growled back. ‘Too good.’
The witch laughed and applied her newly found skills to torturing him until he begged her for more. She traced a path with her wet, hot tongue.
Ciara would drive him insane from the pleasure. She used her lips and tongue against him as he had on her flesh and he even felt the edges of her teeth graze along the length of him. He knew his release was not far off.
That was when she realised she could take him in her mouth. She opened her lips, surrounded the head of his cock and pushed down until she took most of it inside. Her innocence was demonstrated once again when she paused and he realised she did not know what to do next. He could have died a happy man in that position, but he urged her on.
Tavis deserved the torment he received, for though new at this, it took her little time to master the movements and bring him to within moments of release. He allowed himself to enjoy the feel of her mouth tightening around him, but he lifted her head.
‘I think I like kissing,’ she said with a smile.
‘Then think of how much you will like the rest of it.’
The words were out before he thought
