THE KISS SWEPT Erea up in a storm of longing that pushed all other thoughts from her head. She forgot all the reasons why Tad should not kiss her, why she should push him away. Instead, her instincts took over, and she reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling him hard against her.
He groaned and responded in kind, his strong hands sliding down the length of her back and cupping the curve of her bottom. He pulled her close, so that their bodies crushed together, and deepened the kiss. The feel of his tongue parting her lips, of him teasing her bottom lip with his teeth, made Erea’s limbs go weak.
She moaned softly, surrendering to pure sensation.
What kind of magic was this? She’d had no idea that a man’s kiss could scatter her wits like this. Unsurprisingly, her mother had never mentioned it.
Eventually, Tad ended the kiss, yet he did not pull away from her. Instead, he stared down, his gaze luminous in the firelight. He then raised a hand and caressed her face with his fingertips, as if he was blind and committing her features to memory.
His touch sent shivers of delight through her, and a need that made it hard to breathe rose up within Erea.
Kiss me again.
And he did. This time, the kiss was urgent, demanding; their tongues tangling, their breaths mingling. Erea placed her hands on his chest, her fingers digging into the leather that prevented her from reaching his skin.
Tad cupped her face for a few moments, before his hands slid down the length of her neck to her shoulders.
Then, he began to unlace the bodice of her leather vest.
A wild excitement reared up within her as he broke off the kiss and focused on removing her vest. Moments later it fell to the reed-scattered floor. Underneath, Erea wore a gauzy tunic. Glancing down, she saw that the material was semi-transparent, that her breasts thrust toward Tad, her dark nipples showing clearly.
Tad’s lips parted, and he dropped to his knees before her, pushing the tunic up. His mouth trailed up over her ribs before fastening upon one of her breasts.
The sensation that followed swiftly after made Erea gasp. Her nipple ached as he drew it into the heated cavern of his mouth and suckled her. A strange pulsing began in her lower belly, and she let out a soft whimper. Her hands strayed to his shoulders, where she gripped tightly.
“Tad,” she groaned. “I don’t … I can’t …” She appeared to have lost the ability to form coherent speech.
He gave a soft sound of amusement before releasing her swollen nipple and focusing his attention upon its twin.
Erea threw back her head and gasped as pleasure darted through her. The Mother save me … I can’t bear it. Her limbs now felt liquid, and if she had not been clinging to Tad, she would have crumpled to the ground.
She had now completely forgotten their conversation just moments before that kiss, and her decision to forget him. She had not known about this—about how he could make her feel.
Then Tad started to unbuckle the belt which held her plaid skirt in place.
Trembling, Erea pulled the tunic over her head. Despite the roaring fire, drafts from the chill evening outdoors feathered across her sensitized skin. She did not care. All she could focus on was that he was undressing her, and that in a heartbeat she would be naked.
Her skirt and belt tumbled to the floor, and Erea looked down to see Tad gazing up at her. The hunger on his face made her already racing heart start to pound against her ribs. She wanted that hunger; she yearned to unleash her own.
Wordlessly, he rose to his feet and picked her up, carrying her the few feet to the pile of furs in the corner of the hovel. Then he set her down upon them and straightened up, before he started to undress.
Erea’s gaze tracked every movement. She watched him shed his vest and tunic, her attention sliding down to the bulge in his plaid breeches. He pulled off his fur-lined boots, kicking them aside, and then began to slowly unlace his breeches.
All the while, he watched her, a sensual smile spreading across his face.
Erea could not look away. Captivated, she observed the lazy progress of his supple fingers. The pulsing ache between her thighs was growing uncomfortable now; she longed to reach for him, to tear off the last piece of clothing that lay between them so she could see him in all his naked glory.
A moment later she did, and her breathing stopped.
The sight of him, hard and proud, made a sigh escape her. Nervousness fluttered up from her belly, as he was big—bigger than she had expected. Would he hurt her?
The fear did not have time to settle, for Tad lowered himself onto the furs next to Erea and pulled her into his arms.
The dyke burst. This time Erea held nothing back as she kissed him. Her hands grasped for him, her body entwined with his. The velvet heat of his skin, the rasp of his beard against her cheek, the sheer strength and size of him, all filled her senses. Her world narrowed, not just to these four walls, but to this pile of furs and the big man who kissed her hungrily and ran his hands over her body as if he was sculpting her.
Erea did not know what to do with a man, yet it hardly seemed to matter. It was as if another woman had taken over; a woman who was greedy for pleasure, knew what she wanted, and would take it without asking.
She spread her legs and wrapped them around his hips, pressing up against him.
A heartbeat later, she felt his shaft pressing against the entrance to her womb.
“Easy, lass,” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “This might hurt you … let’s take it slow.”
He teased her with his shaft then; edging into her slightly and then withdrawing repeatedly, penetrating a little deeper each time.
Erea groaned, frustration rising within her. She tried to pull him closer with her legs, yet he was much stronger and held fast.
It did not hurt at first—there was just an aching, tingling pleasure—but when he eventually entered her deeper, a sharp pain knifed through Erea, causing her to gasp. She looked up into Tad’s face, to see he wore a fierce expression. His eyes were narrowed with lust, and sweat coated his forehead. She realized then the effort it was taking him to hold back.
“It’s fine,” she gasped. “I’m ready now.”
With a strangled groan he sank into her, sheathing himself fully.
It hurt. His size made her womb ache as she stretched to accommodate him, but the stinging sensation from moments earlier receded. Erea gasped again, and he held her close, his mouth blazing a trail of fire down the column of her neck. “Give in to it, Erea,” he murmured. “Don’t tense.”
She obeyed, relaxing her core, which had clamped around him, and drawing in a shaky breath.
Deep within her, she felt pulsing heat build, like the embers of a forge being stoked at dawn. She whimpered, wriggling against him, and the pleasure grew. Erea started to writhe, her hips grinding against his. She heard herself groan his name, heard the pleading in her own voice.
He gave a soft laugh. “Aye, that’s right. Give yourself to it.” He started to move inside her then, in slow, deep thrusts.
Erea was lost. Her cries echoed through the dwelling, yet she was barely aware of even uttering them. He felt so good, filled her so completely, she did not think she could stand it.
But she did, and Tad’s movements grew increasingly more frenzied as his self-control dissolved. She looked up to see him rearing above her, his muscular body sweat-slicked, his face feral, as he thrust into her. Heat and pleasure flooded through her at the sight of him, and her breathing caught when he threw back his head and gave a hoarse cry, his body going rigid as he spilled within her.
She had never seen anything so magnificent.
“Are you thirsty?” Erea propped herself up onto one elbow and smiled down at Tad. “I made some bramble wine in the autumn.”
Tad’s answering smile made heat rise in her belly. Again. They had coupled three times, and despite that her body was now sore, she still wanted him. Just the sight of him, the curve of his smile, and the hungry look in his eyes, made her body melt. “Aye, thank you.”
Erea sat up, wrapped a fur around her nakedness, and rose to her feet. She padded across to the firepit, wincing at the sting between her legs. She imagined she would be sorer still the following morning, yet she did not care. She threw on another log, watching as the hungry flames caught, and crossed to the bench where she kept her clay bottles of wine. Her mother had taught her how to make wine from brambles, apples, and sloes; although she had a limited number of vessels to store the drink in.
The night beyond the hovel had fallen silent—a deep silence of the time when only owls and night-creatures stalked the world. Most folk would be slumbering in their furs. Only she and Tad were awake.
As she poured out two cups of wine, Erea was aware of Tad watching her.
She glanced over at him, smiling. “What is it?”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
A blush crept up her neck at the compliment. “There’s no need for honeyed words now,” she teased in an effort to mask her embarrassment. “You’ve already had your way with me.”
He laughed. “Aye, but a man mustn’t let his woman feel neglected.”
His woman. Warmth spread through Erea’s chest at those words. She carried the cups back to the furs and perched beside Tad, handing him his drink. “So … I’m your woman, am I?” she asked, her tone light.
He stared back at her, his own smile fading. Her pulse fluttered as their gazes fused. Tad was charming when he was light-hearted, yet irresistible when he grew serious. “Aye,” he replied huskily. “Does that please you?”
She held his gaze. “Aye.”
Silence fell then, as they both sipped their wine. It was dark, spicy, and rich; the best batch Erea had ever made. Ma would have been proud, she thought with a pang. She glanced back at Tad and saw he now wore a pensive expression.
“What is it?”
He shrugged. “Nothing … I’m just wondering how things will work out.”
Erea raised her eyebrows, taking another sip of wine. “What do you mean?”
Discomfort flickered across his handsome features then. “Nothing.”
Erea went still, an oily sensation slithering in the pit of her belly. “What?”
His face screwed up, and he glanced away before replying. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
Erea tensed; now he did have her worried. “Sorry … what isn’t?”
He loosed a breath, raking his free hand through his hair, before he replied. “My father has betrothed me to a woman from a nearby village. We’re to wed in the spring.”