Tender Feud

She wasn’t quite sure what happened next, how hostility turned to desire with such devastating swiftness, except that suddenly it was there, throbbing between them.

The very air around them went still. It was as if they were suspended in time, in a quiet, tense moment that had no beginning or end. With an instinct as old as eternity, Katrine knew he was going to kiss her. And she knew that this time he wouldn’t stop with only a kiss. He was going to make love to her, to end the suspense that had left her restless and aching since their forbidden encounter by the burn. And she knew she had never wanted anything more in her life.

Raith still wasn’t willing to admit to the inevitable, though. He gave a low groan, barely audible, as if he were fighting a raging battle with some unknown, invisible enemy…with himself. And losing.

And then, in surrender to the forces that had tormented them both, his mouth slowly descended, claiming hers in a ravishing possession that tasted to her of anger and desire and despairing acceptance.

Chapter Twelve

Inevitable. Inescapable. He had known it for some time, deep within the recesses of his mind, in his very soul. No matter that he had tried desperately to remain aloof from her, from their quarrels, their mutual antagonism, their fierce attraction. In the end he had lost the battle.

Raith kissed her harshly now, punishingly, hauling her body flush against his, as if he might still escape her spell by being brutal enough. But with a soft whimper, Katrine only pressed closer, her fingers clutching at his fine linen shirt, making him feel an urgent, almost savage need to be part of her, to possess his frustrating, annoying, fascinating woman who could rouse him in a way no other woman ever had or would again. He needed her. Feverishly he smothered her mouth with his, rushing her to him, unable to get enough. Once he had wondered what madness had taken hold of him and made him want her so. But it was Katrine; she was the madness.

And now she was in his arms, helplessly, willingly yielding to is searing, savage kiss. Savage, Raith thought in some small corner of his mind. With a frantic effort to control his consuming need, he eased the harshness of his mouth. Her name was on his lips, half a curse, half a prayer, as he lifted his head to draw a long ragged draft of air.

Katrine thought he meant to pull away as he had that day by the burn. Instinctively her hands sank into his thick raven hair, trying to hold him to her as she gasped, “No, don’t stop.” “No…no,” he breathed hoarsely, bending his head. He took her mouth again, striving for gentleness but managing only to transmit an eager fire as his tongue thrust deeply in a frenzied dance of passion.

The fire caught in Katrine’s body, igniting in places that were secret and hidden, places that had never known the touch of a man. She moaned against Raith’s mouth as he deftly dispensed with the kerchief at her bosom and curled his searching fingers around the square neck of her bodice.

r /> His mouth never left hers as he explored the firmness and softness of her upthrust breasts, the peaking nipples that were already hard and aching. In her straining response, he could sense the intensity of the desire she was feeling, for it reflected his own. She was in a state of sweet sexual arousal that awed him with the power it gave him.

His lips abruptly leaving Katrine’s, Raith lifted his head and stared down at her. “This is your first time.” It was a statement, his voice husky and tender, his eyes so intense, so hot, that they burned a path into her soul.

Katrine nodded, hearing the quick heaviness of her breathing echo his own. Yes, this was her first time. He was her first lover, and would be her last. She knew it with a conviction that was as steady and enduring as the Highland hills. Her feelings for him blazed with crystal brilliance as she returned his gaze in the deepening twilight. Yet she was uncertain of Raith’s feelings for her. Hesitantly she reached up to touch his cheek with her slender fingers.

Something in her expression made Raith’s heart cease its rhythmic beating. Her green eyes were glazed with sensuality, but her gaze was questioning, curiously beseeching. It was only when she whispered, “Please, don’t leave me,” that he understood. She was offering herself and was fearful he would refuse.

A rush of enchantment filled him. He could sooner refuse to take his next breath than deny himself the exquisite mating her eyes promised—and it was doubtful which he needed more.

With trembling fingers he began to undress her, unlacing the rigid stomacher beneath her pretty breasts and freeing the soft white peaks from their harsh confinement.

“Bonny Katie,” he whispered reverently, bending down to kiss each quivering nipple, “how I want you.”

Her sharp inhalation was accompanied by a murmured, breathless “Raith!” while her fingers tangled again in his hair. Her breasts felt unbearably full, and she wanted him to ease the aching torment with his mouth.

Her impatience was mirrored in his movements as he started to remove her bodice, but when she tried to aid him, he brushed her hands away. “No, don’t…let me,” Raith ordered with a restraint he wasn’t feeling.

Obediently Katrine stood very still, her lips parted, her breath coming in shallow spurts while he took his time. She ached to touch him, to hold him, to have him hold her, but he was determined to contain the violence of his desire.

Slowly her skirts and petticoats followed her bodice and chemise, before he applied his unsteady fingers to the tapes of her side hoops. By the time he knelt to remove her stockings and shoes, Katrine was suffering an acute attack of self-consciousness. Fighting the conflicting forces of modesty and desire, she kept her gaze on his dark head, wondering how he could remain so calm when she was feeling so nervous, so hot and feverish. But when he looked up, she could read the dark passion in his eyes and knew his control was scarcely more reliable than hers.

Rising, Raith pressed a brief, tantalizing kiss on her lips, then quickly stepped back, as if not trusting himself to remain near her. Yet he continued to watch her as he stripped off his shirt, his hot gaze communicating dangerous undercurrents of desire. Despite her shyness, Katrine watched him in return. In the gathering shadows she could see the powerful rippling muscles of his arms and shoulders. She ached to touch him and feel his flexing strength beneath her fingers.

He sat on the edge of the small trunk to remove his shoes and breeches. Spellbound, Katrine couldn’t look away, not even when he had shed his clothes and stood before her, a naked, consummate male, his splendid arousal blatantly suggestive. She wasn’t afraid of him, only that he might suddenly remember who she was and turn away from her.

But Raith had no intention of leaving now. Forcibly restraining his desire, he returned to her, drawing her naked, trembling body into his arms and urging her lips open.

Any trace of her previous embarrassment melted at his hungry kiss. Her mouth mated with his, the way it seemed her heart was doing to his, the way her softness was melding with the heat and hardness of his body.

“My sweet torment,” she heard him murmur, but by then she could scarcely make sense of the husky words, for she was too caught up in the incredible sensations he was awakening in her. Torment. That was what he was doing to her, she thought wildly as his fingers came up to stroke the aching tips of her breasts. The throbbing of her nipples was almost painful, they were so taut and rigid, while her skin seemed to ignite in flames everywhere it touched Raith’s. Then his hips began to move slowly, rhythmically, making Katrine feel the huge hot length of his masculinity, eliciting a melting heat between her thighs and a soft whimpering sound from deep in her throat.

“Raith, please…” she pleaded inarticulately against his mouth, trying to get closer.

With a ragged breath he dragged his lips away. “Slowly, Katie…slow…” But Raith himself had trouble following his own command when her arms tightened around his neck and she arched desperately against him, as if she were afraid to let him go. Feeling the same desperation—as if he might die if he didn’t have her soon—he took Katrine’s hand with shaking fingers and drew her down beside him on the pallet, so they lay facing each other. Before he could even press his full length against her, though, her mouth was seeking his blindly.

He met her kiss with an urgency of his own, thrusting his tongue swiftly, deeply into her hot, honeyed recesses, the way he wanted to do with his body. It wasn’t enough. Feverishly he moved his caressing hand down her satin-smooth form till he found the soft cleft between her thighs, the exquisite sweetness that hid a treasure of feminine secrets. To Raith’s surprise and delight, her flesh was hot and weeping; despite her innocence, her body had readied itself for him.

The thought sent a shaft of desire so fierce streaking through him that he had to catch his breath.