Chapter Three #5
Devlin didn’t answer her; he was too furious to.
But he was also consumed by the feel and smell of her, something that instantly aroused him.
She was provoking him; he could sense it.
She was being reckless with her words, reckless to the point of punishment and as he gazed into her eyes, he could see a tumult of emotion that matched whatever he thought he was feeling, too.
He didn’t like it one bit. For a man perpetually in control, he didn’t like the thought of being unable to control whatever it was he felt for her. If he even felt anything at all.
Perhaps all he felt was lust and nothing more.
Whatever it was, he was overwhelmed by it.
Devlin’s mouth came down on Emllyn’s, so hard that he drove her teeth into her soft lip.
He was kissing her with something short of fury.
There was passion and lust and angst there, feelings that made him pull her more tightly against him.
He could taste her blood as he sucked her lips, vaguely aware that she was struggling.
She was trying to pull away but she wasn’t trying very hard.
It was more that she knew that she should try to fight him but didn’t really wanted to.
As he savaged her with his lips, her struggles stopped entirely.
Somehow, her body was weakening. Relaxing.
He thought he felt her hands on his face and it threw him over the edge.
The next he realized, she was in his arms and together they fell upon the bed.
Devlin could hear Emllyn weeping softly, begging him to do…
something. His mouth moved down her neck to the exposed cleavage and he grabbed the hands that were near his face, trapping them above her head.
With her arms trapped, he began to fumble with his breeches, pulling them down even as he lifted her heavy skirts.
Emllyn’s legs were thrashing about and he wedged himself in between them so she could hardly move.
His hand, now roaming free, went under her skirts and could feel the moist heat between her legs.
He was no longer content with toying with her, his hands on her hips or other areas of her body that didn’t bring him pleasure.
Nay, he wasn’t content to restrain himself any longer. Not in the least.
He wanted her.
He knew she wanted him.
Now, his hands was on her thigh. His mouth suckled her chin, her neck, and all Emllyn did was lay there and gasp in pleasure. At least, he thought it was pleasure. She wasn’t fighting him any longer, soft and pliable in his arms, and he took it as an invitation.
“You are mine,” he whispered, his hand hovering near the junction between her legs. “Say it, Emllyn. Say that you are mine.”
Emllyn didn’t have a mind of her own. Everything about him was overwhelming her and her greatest fears were realized.
She couldn’t resist him, nor did she want to.
His touch was heated and gentle. He was being surprisingly gentle.
His kisses were tender, his mouth hot, and she wasn’t afraid of a touch that only last night had terrified her.
She couldn’t understand it.
Perhaps she didn’t want to.
“I am your prisoner,” she breathed.
He lifted himself up to kiss her mouth. “Tell me that you belong to me.”
“I belong to you.”
“And you will give yourself over to me.”
“I am your prison…”
He kissed her to silence her. “Nay,” he said. “Tell me you will give yourself over to me.”
Emllyn was hardly able to speak. “Give… give over…?”
A smile creased his lips. “You will like this, very much.”
“Like what?”
He inserted two big fingers into her wet and glistening woman’s center, listening to her groan with surprise. She stiffened, but only momentarily, as he stroked into her with shocking gentleness.
“This,” he breathed as he suckled her tender neck.
“You will like this. Do you feel me inside of you? This is where I will take my pleasure with you and where you will bear my sons. Already, I am making way for my seed and you shall accept it, do you hear? You shall accept it and you shall bear me a son.”
He thrust into her with his fingers, mimicking what he would soon be doing with his large, throbbing member.
Emllyn’s gasped every time he thrust his fingers into her tight, slick heat.
He would have liked to have tasted her but he had her where he wanted her, and he furthermore didn’t want to get kicked in the head if she started to fight again, so he settled for touching her.
He liked the feel of her. It wasn’t long before he could feel her body start to quiver, the beginnings of her first release of ecstasy, so he quickly removed his fingers and thrust into her as her body was overcome with a climax.
Devlin could feel her body convulsing around him as he filled her with his manhood.
She was virgin, he could tell, but there hadn’t been any dramatics on her part.
No crying as he impaled her. He’d prepared her, and calmed her, and now she lay beneath him as he firmly thrust into her yielding form.
She was hot and wet, her gasps of passion filling the air as he snaked a hand under the shift and he found her breasts, pinching the nipples and feeling her twitch.
Nay, this wasn’t a woman who was resisting him.
She was welcoming him.
Devlin was so highly aroused that he released himself far sooner than he had hoped, feeling his hot seed mingle with her wet heat. It was the most glorious thing he had ever known.
Exhausted, spent, he collapsed on top of her.
Truthfully, he hadn’t intended to bed her, but his urges had conquered him.
He was wildly attracted to her and simply couldn’t deny it any longer.
There had been something about her from the beginning that he’d been drawn to, something he’d never experienced before.
It was true that she belonged to him, as his captive, but there was so much more to it.
He couldn’t explain it.
All he could do was feel it.
The sounds of his heavy breathing filled the air as Devlin struggled to catch his breath while beneath him, Emllyn simply lay there, eyes closed and her head turned away from him.
She was breathing heavily, too, lying motionless for the most part.
Devlin stared at her in the firelight, thinking he’d never in his life seen anything more beautiful.
He wondered what it would be like for her to respond readily to him, for her to touch him as he touched her.
The mere thought was enough to harden him again and in little time, he was slowly and sensually thrusting in and out of her again.
His face was buried in her neck, smelling her, as his hips moved in the ancient primal rhythm.
“Please,” Emllyn gasped. “Please… I should have…”
Devlin responded by covering her mouth with his, kissing her with something just short of tenderness.
It was slow and delicious, his tongue invading her mouth as he listened to her gasp.
He was being very careful and deliberate, his thrusts as gentle as they could be.
He was unbelievably aroused, letting go of the arms he had trapped over her head and using the free hand to burrow under her shift and fondle her breasts.
That seemed to arouse Emllyn, who began lifting her pelvis to him when he thrust. It was an innate reaction, as if she’d always done it this way.
Realizing she was responding to him, he moved a big hand in between them, to where their bodies joined, and began to gently stroke her.
Emllyn groaned, overwhelmed with the new sensations he was creating.
Devlin was literally panting as he watched her face, seeing the pleasure upon it and knowing she was feeling what he was feeling.
It was too good to be true, mating that was only dreamt of or told of in fables of lore.
It was pleasure beyond pleasure, passion beyond passion, and it seemed as if their bodies were only made for each other.
Devlin had bedded many women in his life, but never like this.
He had never even dreamed of anything like this.
When he felt Emllyn’s tremors begin again, causing her to gasp frantically, he thrust into her several times before releasing in a burst of glory.
The fire in the hearth snapped softly as heavy breathing filled the room.
Devlin was collapsed on top of Emllyn as she lay with her hands over her eyes.
He could hardly catch his breath and neither could she, but eventually the breathing died down and the room fell silent but for the crackle of the fire.
Devlin still lay atop Emllyn, his body still joined to hers, thinking a great many thoughts.
Mostly, he thought he might possibly be going mad.
It would seem that she was no longer the captive.
It would seem that now, somehow, he belonged to her instead.