Margaret stiffened, her breaths coming so fast now she felt lightheaded. Each pant drew in his freshened scent, not as repulsive as it had been before, deep into her lungs.
He traced the line where her thighs pressed together to just beneath her sex.
“You may breathe, love,” he whispered and slipped his fingers deeper between, scraping his fingertips along the edges of her nether lips.
No, she couldn’t breathe—not with his fingers snug against her…woman’s part. Then moisture leaked from inside her to wet her curls, and his fingers circled, drawing more liquid in an embarrassing quantity. “Stop!” She covered his hand with hers.
He nodded and pulled away, stretching out over the mattress. “If you don’t want me to touch, you will touch me.”
“But why must we touch? Can’t you just—”
“Mount you and rut like an animal?”
Her eyes rounded. “Well, put that like—”
“Believe me, I’m so hard I could hammer a post with my staff, but you are a virgin.” His face grew still. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Milord! I am convent-raised!”
He snorted. “I’ve swived a blessed sister or two in my time. Means naught…so, a virgin it is.” He sigh
ed. “Let’s get on to the touching. You may begin wherever you wish.”
Although, sitting this close to his rangy frame inspired a fierce curiosity, she remained firm. “I’ve no desire to touch you. I fear, sirrah, that we are at an impasse.”
His gaze swept over her, pausing once more on her curls. “I’ll have you before this night is through. I am a patient man when the situation needs, but know this—by morning, you will surrender your virginity and your body.”
Margaret forced her mouth into a straight line rather than the pout that threatened to pucker her lower lip. She’d tried every tactic she knew to delay this moment.
Perhaps Grania was right. Maybe God had other plans for her.
She closed her eyes tightly. “I am ready, milord.”
“No, you’re not, love.”
She opened one eye and peeked down at her husband.
The smile that curved the corners of his lips was at once rueful and pained.
“Well, is there something I must do? I’ve told you I’m ready.”
“Lie back and open your legs, my dear.”
Her eyebrows shot up. If she did as he asked, he’d be able to look into a part of her she’d never seen. The tips of her breasts tingled again.
She lay back and spread her legs a few inches, and then held her breath.
He sighed. “Well, that’s a start.” His hand lifted and settled on the curve of one breast.
Heat surrounded the globe, and her nipple puckered. As his thumb rasped over the sensitive tip, Margaret shivered.
“Like that, do you?”
“I’m cold,” she replied, not willing to let him know how much turmoil his touch stirred in her body.
He shook his head and bent over her, shocking her thoroughly when he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled her like a babe.
She might have laughed at the odd sight if a rush of red-hot heat, like a smithy’s poker, hadn’t shot from her breast to her belly. She gasped, and her hips pulsed upward.