like Brochan never stopped to look at her twice. Even in school she had attracted the geekier, bookish types, instead of the jocks. So it surprised her to see the interest there.
But maybe Brochan was different from the men of her time?
His eyes shifted to her lips, and her mouth went dry.
Though she was limited sexually, her only partner having been Elliott, she knew the look he gave her now. Desire.
He wanted her and she wanted him. This thirteenth-century border lord. A warrior who lived and died by the sword.
As he continued to stare, moisture pooled between her thighs and her clit became ultrasensitive. What would it feel like to be taken by this man? His rough hands on her, his body moving above hers, and inside her.
As his lips descended on hers, she had a feeling her days of celibacy were about to come to an end.
4
What the hell are ye doing?
Brochan could hear his conscience scream that question, but his body did not seem to care that this woman was his enemy, or that her father had murdered his brother.
Nay, he cared about nothing but the rose-colored lips, and the woman beside him.
From the moment he had looked at her, he had thought of taking her, and take her he would. Over and over again. Get her with child so her father would never forget Tristan’s death.
No longer would she be a virgin after this night.
He would see to that.
Her lips touched his, tentatively at first, then aggressively, her tongue sliding along the seam of his lips, prompting him to open. And open he did.
She moaned as her velvety tongue slid into his mouth, past his teeth. She tasted sweet, and as her arms encircled his neck, he pulled her on top of him.
Her curves molded against him, her hips pressing down on his pulsing erection.
He moaned deep in his throat. God’s breath, if she kept moving like that he would come before he sank his length into her luscious, lithe body.
His hands moved down her slender back, over her womanly hips, and cupped her high, firm buttocks. She moaned in pleasure, rocking against him, her mound scorching his cock that pulsed with the need to be deep inside her honeyed walls. His fingers dipped into the crevice there, slipping a finger into that heated core.
She moaned again, spreading her thighs, while she pressed hard against his cock.
Sweat beaded on his forehead with the effort it took to hold himself in check. Moisture seeped from the tiny slit of his cockhead.
“You feel so good,” she said, and he added another finger into her delicious heat.
She was so tight, so wet.
Her hands moved over his ribs, and then were at the cord of his braies, untying them with nimble fingers. A second later her fingers curled around his shaft. “You’re so big.”
He flipped her beneath him, pushing his braies down, unable to wait a second longer.
Her beautiful blue eyes were wide, the sides of her mouth lifted in a seductive smile. “I want you inside me.”
If this was an act…she certainly was convincing.
He slipped his cock inside her molten core and didn’t move, savoring the feel of her channel gripping his length.
Her hands moved down his back, cupping his buttocks as she lifted her hips, urging him to move.
He kept the pace slow, in no hurry to end this joining.Nay, he would savor it, take his time so she would have a difficult time forgetting him.
He wanted this moment branded on her memory.
This enemy of his.
Terri gasped, savoring the feel of Brochan’s length stretching her, filling her like she’d never been filled before.
His body was beautiful. Wide chest covered by scars, both short and long. Scars that had faded with time, but marked him as the warrior he was. A powerful, sexy warrior.
He looked at her, his green eyes heavy-lidded, so sensual. Lowering his dark head, he took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the peak in slow licks. He suckled hard, his teeth grazing her nipple gently, building a delicious ache that had her fingernails digging into his
But maybe Brochan was different from the men of her time?
His eyes shifted to her lips, and her mouth went dry.
Though she was limited sexually, her only partner having been Elliott, she knew the look he gave her now. Desire.
He wanted her and she wanted him. This thirteenth-century border lord. A warrior who lived and died by the sword.
As he continued to stare, moisture pooled between her thighs and her clit became ultrasensitive. What would it feel like to be taken by this man? His rough hands on her, his body moving above hers, and inside her.
As his lips descended on hers, she had a feeling her days of celibacy were about to come to an end.
4
What the hell are ye doing?
Brochan could hear his conscience scream that question, but his body did not seem to care that this woman was his enemy, or that her father had murdered his brother.
Nay, he cared about nothing but the rose-colored lips, and the woman beside him.
From the moment he had looked at her, he had thought of taking her, and take her he would. Over and over again. Get her with child so her father would never forget Tristan’s death.
No longer would she be a virgin after this night.
He would see to that.
Her lips touched his, tentatively at first, then aggressively, her tongue sliding along the seam of his lips, prompting him to open. And open he did.
She moaned as her velvety tongue slid into his mouth, past his teeth. She tasted sweet, and as her arms encircled his neck, he pulled her on top of him.
Her curves molded against him, her hips pressing down on his pulsing erection.
He moaned deep in his throat. God’s breath, if she kept moving like that he would come before he sank his length into her luscious, lithe body.
His hands moved down her slender back, over her womanly hips, and cupped her high, firm buttocks. She moaned in pleasure, rocking against him, her mound scorching his cock that pulsed with the need to be deep inside her honeyed walls. His fingers dipped into the crevice there, slipping a finger into that heated core.
She moaned again, spreading her thighs, while she pressed hard against his cock.
Sweat beaded on his forehead with the effort it took to hold himself in check. Moisture seeped from the tiny slit of his cockhead.
“You feel so good,” she said, and he added another finger into her delicious heat.
She was so tight, so wet.
Her hands moved over his ribs, and then were at the cord of his braies, untying them with nimble fingers. A second later her fingers curled around his shaft. “You’re so big.”
He flipped her beneath him, pushing his braies down, unable to wait a second longer.
Her beautiful blue eyes were wide, the sides of her mouth lifted in a seductive smile. “I want you inside me.”
If this was an act…she certainly was convincing.
He slipped his cock inside her molten core and didn’t move, savoring the feel of her channel gripping his length.
Her hands moved down his back, cupping his buttocks as she lifted her hips, urging him to move.
He kept the pace slow, in no hurry to end this joining.Nay, he would savor it, take his time so she would have a difficult time forgetting him.
He wanted this moment branded on her memory.
This enemy of his.
Terri gasped, savoring the feel of Brochan’s length stretching her, filling her like she’d never been filled before.
His body was beautiful. Wide chest covered by scars, both short and long. Scars that had faded with time, but marked him as the warrior he was. A powerful, sexy warrior.
He looked at her, his green eyes heavy-lidded, so sensual. Lowering his dark head, he took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the peak in slow licks. He suckled hard, his teeth grazing her nipple gently, building a delicious ache that had her fingernails digging into his
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