Claiming Her

He pulled her to the bed, laid her down on it, and knelt between her thighs, his face taut and rigid. “I’ll go slow,” he said, at odds with the rampant energy she knew was roiling through him.

“Just don’t stop.”

He propped himself on a palm, leaned to the side, and reached between their bodies. His painted hand grasped his erection. She was breathless at the erotic sight, wanted nothing but to watch his hand curl around himself, but there was no time, for he settled between her legs. The hard, silken head of him bumped into her folds, then, with a little shove, he breached her, pushed up inside the barest inch.

She froze, her lips rounded around a hard, silent gasp.

He pulled his hips back and brought them forward and sank in further. Her head flung back, jerked by whipcord lashes of arousal. His eyes flew to hers.

“Aye?” Ragged, whispered, it was barely a word.

“Oh, aye.”

His chest moved in rapid breaths; he was breathing as fast as she. Which meant his head must be spinning as hard as hers, his heart must be thudding with the same frenzied beat.

Never looking away, he repositioned himself, propped up on his palms and stretched out above her. Then he rocked his hips forward. It was an unstoppable thrust, slow mayhap, but very hard, very deep. Very much intending to take her fully.

Her body spread for him, sensitive inner flesh trembling as he stroked into it.

He pulled out and sank in again, a slow, carnal possession. Beautifully slow, painfully slow. The muscles in his arms were tautly defined as he held himself up and rocked again. A shudder took his body. His head tipped back, his eyes shut, the muscles in his neck stretched taut as he plunged into her yet again, harder this time, going in deeper.

It was a viciously gentle breach of her defenses.

Katarina had been prepared for a crushing sensual assault, expected him to storm her gates with fire, after such a long siege. Aodh was vigor and endless movement, a roiling storm cloud; she’d known that to be taken by him, meant to be taken entirely.

But this slow subjugation, this gentle rout of her body, was like being set on fire with a long fuse. It was cruel, vicious, unkind. Perfect.

As if she were the land and he her sky, he stretched out over her, and she laid herself out for him more with each thrust, until her arms curled helplessly above her head. Her hips rose to meet each controlled penetration, her head tipped up to receive every kiss he saw fit to plant on her mouth. Inside her, a hot bank of pressure built. She felt like a storm about to break.

His eyes were so dark, so dilated with desire, she could disappear into them, as if into night, and never be seen again. In this moment, she wanted just that, to disappear from the world, and never be seen by anyone but Aodh.

“Ready, lass?”

Bands of excitement coiled around her. She nodded.

He shoved his hips forward in a deep, fierce thrust, shocking her with the suddenness, and the pleasure to be had from the hard, fierce taking of it. She wanted to be taken by this man, hard and long, until she wept from it.

Then he stopped, as if he hadn’t meant to do it so forcefully.

But she had loved the force of him.

“Please, Aodh.” She curled her hands around his hips.

“You like that?”

“Oh yes.” She pulled on him, urging him on.

He set a rhythm then, matching himself to the thrust of her hips, the toss of her head, how high her back arched to him.

“Aye, Katy, take more of me,” he commanded, shoving her knee wide to the side.

The powerful arms on either side of her head shook as she lifted her hips, opening for him. He dropped to his elbows, laid his mouth on her neck, and took her hard. His hips rolled between her thighs in fierce, hard thrusts. Their bodies grew sweaty, slicked together, then slid apart. He pushed her legs apart farther until she was splayed out for him, sprawled, her head tossing. She could do nothing but whatever Aodh bid.

His mouth plowed her open, tasted her, then left her gasping when he tore away and moved to her ear, then her neck, then her breasts. Everything he touched felt as though it sparkled. She held her breasts up for his suckling, tangled her fingers in his hair to move his head where she wanted to feel his caress next. She nipped his neck, his shoulders, let him do things she had never dreamed of, and reveled in it. He was a wave she was riding, powerful and unstoppable.

It was untended and untamed.

It was magnificent.