Chapter 23 #2
“Ye do.” He stepped out of the tub and drew her into his arms. The ground was cool underfoot, a comfortable respite from the heat of the tub.
Her hands slipped around his back and she clung to him. The wet fabric of her gown was cold against his skin and helped keep his head focused.
Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, her accusations and lack of trust had wounded him. True, he had taken the castle under malicious circumstances, but in the time following, he'd aided her, he'd supported her.
She was not like the ladies he had met, the privileged women of considerable wealth who looked down upon his lot. Nay, she was kind and determined and had enough room in her heart for an entire castle full of people.
Mayhap even for him.
Her mouth pressed to his chest in a kiss. Several kisses turned into a string of them up his chest and to his neck. His body responded immediately, lighting with heat and hardness, sparked by having lost her trust and regaining it once more.
Marin rested her palm on his cheek and lifted her face to his.
Bran kissed her, sweetly, chastely, until she rose on her toes and swept her tongue into his mouth.
He gave her what she needed then. He slanted his mouth over hers and lost himself in the shared passion between them, the spiked fear of loss, the strength of mutual want.
“Forgive me, Bran.” She spoke between kisses, frantic with need, made clear by the way her hands grazed over his body.
Her fingers trickled down his stomach to where his cock had already risen hard between them. He growled against her lips and drew the lacing from the back of her gown, blindly plucking at the ties. Her touch curled around his shaft and his bollocks drew tight with anticipation.
She stroked him the way he'd shown her, starting at the base and working up to the sensitive head.
His thoughts went hazy. It turned all his racing musings from before into ash and they simply blew away.
From bottom to top, her small palm squeezed and worked his lust to fervent intensity.
His concentration on the lacings became difficult and his movements were clumsy. Too damn slow.
He grunted with frustration.
“You said once you would feed me your cock,” she whispered in his ear.
He went still, or at least all of him but his prick, which lurched to attention at such words.
“The way you slipped your thumb in my mouth.” She drew her hand over him, up and down, like slow, sensual fire. “Is that how it's done?”
His mouth was too dry to answer, and his fingers stopped working at her lacing. She gave him a coquettish gaze and lowered herself to her knees in front of him.
“Should I be like this?” Warm, sweet breath bathed over the blazing heat of his skin.
He swallowed.
Her kirtle hung open at the back and drooped from one shoulder, exposing only part of her to him.
The curve of a breast was tantalizingly creamy white in the shadows of the gapping fabric.
Her state of partial undress in contrast to the blatantly erotic act she intended to perform on him only served to send his senses soaring higher.
He wanted to shove down the limp sleeve, to kiss her shoulder and expose both perfect breasts.
She gazed up at him expectantly. God’s teeth. Bran took his cock in his hand and guided the tip to her mouth, rubbing it teasingly against her full lips. Tingles of pleasure rippled through him. His breath hissed through his teeth.
“Open yer mouth, wife.” His voice was deep with lust.
She obediently opened her mouth, her gaze fixed on him.
He shifted his hips forward and pushed his cock into her mouth. She closed around him as she’d done with his finger before, and she gave a little suck. Bran’s toes curled at the overwhelming sensation.
“Aye, like that,” he murmured. “Now take it deeper, aye?”
She drew him further into her mouth, suckling with sweet, torturous innocence. Pleasure raked through him, sizzling and greedy. He gave a choked cry and reached for Marin's head to bury his hands in the mass of her silky hair. To guide her over him.
She suckled the incredibly sensitive tip, nudging him into her mouth ever so slightly. A low humming moan in her throat reverberated down his shaft as she pleasured him. He wouldn't be able to take much more of this.
She teased his hard flesh for an indeterminate amount of time, until he was nearly mad with the need for her to take the whole of him. She'd wanted him to feed her his cock—by God he would do so.
He released one hand from her hair and put it over her grip on him. “Open yer mouth wider.” He spoke in a low growl, his throat tight with his restraint to not plunge his cock forward. No, she needed to go at her own pace. “Take me deeper.”
She obediently opened her mouth, and did exactly as he asked, letting him push his cock so it disappeared further.
It was a good thing they'd had one another so often of late, or this simple act alone would have undone him. As it was, he knew he should stop, but dear God, he could not bring himself to do so.