Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
“Except in rain or snow, we prefer the open sky.”
“But your furs are inside.”
“They are.”
“How did they know to put your bedding there?”
Brom grinned and swept open a flap of hide, then ducked his head to enter. “They have seen me look at you.”
Flora had seen him look at her, too. So many times. And she’d mistaken some of those looks, particular the tender ones—but there was no mistaking the hunger in his expression as the tent enclosed them in a darkness only broken where the firelight slipped between the seams.
“And when they came upon us, your lips were still swollen from my kisses.” His voice dropped as he moved in closer, cupping her face in his hands. “I would kiss you again, Flora.”
“I would allow it any time.” Though she would only have this one night. “On my mouth or anywhere else.”
She felt his quiet laugh against her lips, then there was only his mouth, and his tongue, and heat rushing through her flesh. Only in her dreams had she imagined kissing could be like this—so wild and world-consuming, so that every sensation that his touch evoked was as sharp as a knife’s edge…and yet there was nothing beyond the walls of their tent, as if all the rest of the world had vanished.
Did he feel anything near to the same as she did? But he could not. How could anyone feel like this and then throw it away?
Unless their heart was made of stone. As Brom had said his was.
With a sobbing hitch to her breath, she clung to his shoulders. Then ran her palms down his chest, desperately touching the skin that she’d never feel again, the wonderful steel of his muscles and the roughness of hair, the rapid thrum of his heart that beat ever faster when her hand gripped the thick column of flesh straining the leather of his breeches.
His hips jerked, thrusting that hot length against her palm. With a tortured groan, he broke away from her mouth, his chest heaving ragged breaths. “Don’t touch— It’s too— I can’t—” His forehead pressed to hers for an endless second. “I’ve needed you for too long, Flora. I’ll spend into your hand.”
“Then I’ll lick it from my fingers as you did mine.”
A growl ripped from his chest. The world spun, then she was on her back, in his furs, Brom’s mouth devouring hers as his hands dragged at the tunic, baring her thighs, baring her breasts. His heavy body pinned her as he licked his way down her throat, though she squirmed and fought to touch more of him, to taste more of him, so focused on the battle that the pleasure of his teeth tugging at her nipple shocked from her a startled cry.
Instantly Brom was over her again, his thumb pressing between her parted lips, quietly hushing into her ear. “I would share everything with my clan but this,” he said in a voice as hard and thick as the rampant erection cradled between her thighs. “Your pleasure is mine alone. Yes?”
Flora nodded, then sucked on the tip of his thumb. Brom stiffened above her before parrying with a roll of his hips that ground his rigid cock against her most intimate flesh. Barely did she stop her cry, whimpering instead low in her throat.
“Just like that, Flora,” he said huskily. “Mine alone.”
His alone. She buried her fingers in the thickness of his hair as he returned to her breasts, desperately trying to remain quiet as his mouth teased her tight nipples from sensitive to aching, so that the gentlest pinch of his teeth and slick of his tongue brought her near to screaming.
It was both relief and torment when Brom kissed his way lower, but he was slow, so slow, that she released his hair and skated her fingers down ahead of his mouth.
Again Brom surged over her, bringing her hands up with him to pin over her head. He nipped at her bottom lip. Softly he warned her, “Mine alone, Flora.”
She had to laugh at that. He would claim everything but her hand in marriage.
Yet when Brom hesitated, as if he’d heard the bitter note and meant to question it, she shook her head. She would not waste this night when it was all that she would have. “Yours alone. Please.”
His gaze searched hers before he nodded, and kissed her in the way that made the world disappear, until once again there was only him and her, and the havoc his mouth could raise upon her heart and her flesh. In the dim and flickering light within the tent, he was shadow and fire, burning a dark path from her lips to her stomach—and there he paused, to breathe her in, to spread her wide, so that by the time his journey resumed, her every muscle was trembling, and it would be this memory that was the brightest of all the jewels, this one this one this one, because in the instant before he lowered his head, the way Brom looked at her seemed beyond tenderness, beyond cherishing, beyond even worship. In that deceitful dark, she could almost dream that he loved her.