Chapter 14 #3
He held himself still, let her learn the scarred, stone-hard landscape of his body, first by sight, then with the most tender of touches.
Sensitive, feminine fingers reached out, a little wary as they touched his mouth, his chin.
Then, catching her bottom lip between pearly teeth, she let her fingers journey downward, splaying over the dark hair that feathered across the expanse of his chest.
Niall bit back a groan as she traced ridges of muscle, pale white scars, the flat discs of nipples so sensitive it all but unmanned him when she circled her fingertips upon their hardened points.
"I dreamed about this so many nights," she admitted, her cheeks rose-pink.
"But never—never did I imagine you would feel this way," she breathed.
For an instant, Niall felt shame—shame in the twisted, ugly scars he had once worn with pride, shame in the body that seemed so crude somehow next to the impossible delicacy of his lady.
"I am a warrior," he muttered. "Rough and coarse and—"
"You are like the cliffs you showed me beside the sea, rugged and powerful and so very beautiful.
I want to plunge into you, the way I did the waves that first day.
I want you to surround me, enclose me, until I cannot guess where I end and you begin.
" She flattened her hands on his chest, her eyes wide, her breath ragged.
"That is what I want as well, Lily Fair.
More than you will ever know." He lay down beside her, and she draped herself over his body.
He cradled her full length against his nakedness, his blood roaring hot through his veins at the dizzying pleasure of her softness yielding to his hardness.
Her breasts flattened against his chest, her slender legs tangling with his sinewy ones, the soft, slight swell of her belly cradling the rigid length of his shaft.
She moved, restless against him, running her hands over his shoulders, his ribs, his hips, pressing her lips to whatever bare skin she could reach.
The throbbing low in Niall's loins grew deafening before he dared continue his own quest. Laying her back, gaining a slight, precious distance between their bodies, he eased his big hand down the curve of her belly once more, to where soft curls clung to his fingers.
So delicate, so perfect and fragile was she, the petals of her femininity like a flower he might crush in his clumsiness. But even such fears could not keep him from slipping his fingers lower, until Caitlin arched, guiding his touch to her hot, damp center.
Niall clenched his teeth with agonizing pleasure as he slipped one finger inside her untried opening. She was ready to receive him, eager and melting in her very core.
But this was her first time, Niall reminded himself. There would be pain when he entered her, dashing away the glorious pleasure that now set her face aglow.
With grim determination, he found the pearl beneath those delicate rose-hued folds, awakened it to sensation with gentle strokes. She gasped in surprise and a hint of fear.
"N-Niall, what—what is..."
"Do not be afraid, mo chroi," he murmured against the sweet cream of her breast. "It is all the magic that lies between us. Close your eyes, let yourself feel how much I want you."
Her lashes fluttered then drooped to her cheeks. She lay there, trembling as he eased her thighs apart with his hand.
With exquisite care, Niall teased her, pleasured her, until she could no longer hold back her cries. He could feel the crest rising within her, irresistible as the tide. He felt her racing toward it with that wild, sweet abandon only Caitlin could know.
He wanted to be with her when she shattered, wanted to feel her sheath clutch his shaft in perfect pleasure, but he feared if he pierced her maidenhead, she would not know the rapture he craved for her far more fiercely than the mere fulfillment of his own desires.
He kissed a fervent path down her body then pressed his mouth to her core in passion, adoration. She shattered, her head tossing as the waves of pleasure consumed her. Triumph surged through Niall at the knowledge that he had given her joy.
Yet it seemed his lady wanted more. She tugged at his shoulders, and he rose above her, gazing down into a face transformed by his loving.
Eyes still wide with wonder, mouth swollen and ripe from his kisses, she stunned him, reaching down between their bodies to cradle his shaft in the cup of her palm. Exquisite pleasure drove through Niall.
"I do not know what—what to do," she whispered. "I only know I want you to feel what I felt when you touched me that way." She stroked him, trying to imitate his movements from moments before.
He captured her hand in his, thrust once against her soft palm. "Take me inside you, Caitlin," he groaned. "I need to be inside you."
She lay back, opening her thighs to him, opening her arms to draw him close.
Niall felt the blunt tip of his sex nudge her fragile opening, his hard hands clasping her hips.
He wanted to be gentle, tender, wanted not to hurt her.
But he was too big, too hard. He knew before he moved that a painless entry into her body was too much to hope for.
But already Caitlin was restless beneath him, shifting against his body with a sensuality as maddening as it was innocent.
With a groan, Niall surrendered. He drove his hips forward, piercing her with one swift, clean thrust.
She cried out in surprise, her pliant body stiffening as her maidenhead tore. And Niall wished with all his being he could have endured that pain in her place.