Chapter Six #2
“Yes.” And she would savor the memories of this dream for many, many nights.
She wanted this, and she wanted to experience it with Daegan.
No man had ever made her feel this way, so conscious of her femininity, of her own desires and needs.
She felt beautiful and sensual, and tonight she was going to give in to temptation.
Kneeling, Daegan placed her legs over each of his muscled thighs.
His hands, a stark contrast against her pale flesh continued to slide up her sides to cup and squeeze her breasts.
“You won’t ever regret this, Isobel,” he vowed, trailing his tongue up her belly.
His silky hair tickled the undersides of her breasts, making her skin erupt in gooseflesh.
“I could never regret anything I do with you.” She sighed deeply.
How could she regret something that felt this wonderful?
Good lord, if she didn’t know better, she would say she loved him.
But he was only a dream, no matter how handsome, how powerful.
A dream of a lover who was as ensnared by her as she was by him.
His head was atop her breasts, his eyes searching hers through the pale shaft of moonlight. He looked boyish and vulnerable, and infinitely lovable. “Tonight, I will show you why you were made for me.”
She watched him unfasten the pewter clasp to his cloak, tossing it to the foot of the bed.
Then he removed his shirt with short, vicious movements, flinging it onto the ground along with his trousers and boots before turning to rest lightly atop her.
The instant his naked body made contact with hers, Isobel felt a jolt of awareness. He felt heavy and warm and very male.
“No other man shall ever have you. You’re mine, Isobel. You have been since the first time I saw you.”
His possessive words thrilled her and she moaned, angling her hips so that his fingers would dip lower and part her. “Please.”
“Please what?” he teased, his tongue laving her nipple before he captured it between his teeth and bit gently. “Please stop?”
“No.”
“Tell me, Isobel.”
His mouth was pure magic, and just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, he turned his attention to her other breast, all the while his fingers continuing to tease the flesh of her sex.
“Make love to me,” she panted, her hips arching fiercely in order to feel more of his touch.
And then his mouth was on hers, his lips and tongue demanding as his fingers parted her and stroked her. She cried out when she felt him insert one, then another finger. “Please,” she gasped.
Daegan had never had a woman beg for his touch before.
Never had a female made him so aware of his virility.
Everything about Isobel pulled and tugged at the primitive urges buried deep inside him.
The desire to take her was strong, almost impossible to resist. All his senses cried out to sink himself inside her tight welcoming body and claim her for himself.
She rocked against his hand. He watched as she learned and responded to the rhythm of his touch, her hips moving seductively in time to his fingers as they pleasured her.
She was built so perfectly and lush, with full breasts and hips.
The Sidhe females were tall and lean, small breasted and narrow hipped.
The males of his race had to challenge each other for them, and the male who won spent the rest of the night proving his worthiness to be her mate.
It was as much a battle of wills as it was pleasure.
But this, with Isobel, was true magic. She was soft and feminine, yielding to his skills.
Her desire and acceptance made him feel more virile and masculine than his hardest-won conquest—a conquest he could no longer remember.
As he looked down at Isobel lying beneath him, he realized that this would forever be his, this pleasure, this lazy and perfect loving. And this woman. Mortal or not, she was the only female he wanted.
Daegan reached for her hands and pinned them in his, holding them above her head. Her breasts brushed his mouth, teasing him with taut, coral nipples. His erection was riding hard between her soft thighs, driving him forward, urging him to part her. To take her in an act of raw possession.
He gave in, parting her with his shaft, allowing himself to slide along her, feeling the slickness of her desire covering him. Her tongue came out to wet her lips and he captured it with his mouth, imitating what his body would soon be doing inside her.
And then he was inside her, filling her as she continued to tremble, his strong hands fitting her thighs against his waist as he pushed farther and farther into her body.
Isobel moaned his name, unable to disguise the desire—God help her, the love in her voice.
“Say my name again, muirnín,” he whispered.
“Daegan,” she whimpered as he pushed past the last remaining barrier of her virginity.
And then he was moving atop her, the muscles of his shoulders and arms bunching and tightening with his exertion.
His strokes were slow and intentional, forcing her to take all of him, and she did, took everything he had to offer and gave what she could of herself, including her budding love.
She didn’t know how it could happen so fast. It was impossible.
But anything was possible in dreams, she reminded herself, even making love on a bed in the middle of an enchanted forest!
Wrapping her legs around his lean waist, Isobel followed him, rising up to meet his thrusts. There was no pain, only pleasure as he loved her, held her tight and kissed her cheek.
“My God, it’s never been like this,” he groaned into her ear. “You feel so good. So right.”
Isobel felt his seed start to spill inside her.
His breath came in harsh pants as he rested his head between her breasts.
Isobel drank in the scent of her perfume mixed provocatively with Daegan’s spicy scent.
Thinking he was finished, she hugged him tight, but he rolled with her, bringing her atop him.
He smiled as she squeaked in surprise, “You didn’t think I was done with you?”
She moaned, unable to say anything when his fingers circled the top of her sex. The strange vibration she felt when she touched him was magnified when he touched her there.
“Come for me, Isobel.” He encouraged her in a husky whisper before he captured her breast and began to suckle. The rhythm of his finger and his mouth synched, and her hips rocked. He was still hard and filling her deep as he showed her how to move.
She clutched at his shoulders and cried out, unable to bear the sensations rushing at her, and all along he brought her higher, wouldn’t let her stop or push his hand away. Then she was trembling and shaking and clutching him wildly, hoping she would never awaken from this dream.