Page 79 of Marin’s Promise

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Desire built between Marin's legs in a low, hungry pulse while she took Bran's phallus into her mouth. He watched her with an almost unwavering intensity, his jaw tight, the bands of his stomach taut as iron in the firelight. His entire being was centered on her. She was powerful in her sexuality and the knowledge of it gave her a lusty high.

The thickness of his manhood pushed slowly deeper, hard and hot against her tongue, until it touched the back of her throat. His fingers at his base told her there was still more of him, but she hadn't the room. Instead, she secured her lips around him, and sucked.

His body jerked and he uttered a curse. She didn't have to look up to know he was enjoying the sensation. His hand tensed in her hair and she slowly pulled her mouth off him. His cock popped free. He still held at the base with his other hand, positioned toward her mouth, ready to push himself into her lips once more.

Desire thrummed wickedly between her legs. She licked the swollen head, enjoying the spongy heat of it against her tongue before she sucked him into her mouth once more, firmly and with more confidence. He gave a long, desperate groan and her sex clenched in response to his obvious pleasure. She cast her attention upward and found him watching her with a deep, intense ferocity.

“Keep looking at me,” he said in a husky voice.

She did as she was bade, keeping her eyes fixed on him as he guided her ministrations. Giving him such bliss made her want to give even more–not because she'd almost killed him–because he had given her such evocative sensations. She wanted to give him what he'd given her, to make him feel alive in the way he'd done for her. Every grunt, every cry of delight he'd issued forth served to heighten her own enjoyment of the act, driving her forward and making her bold.

She sucked and licked, moaning her pleasure as she did so. She let him love her mouth the way he'd loved her body and allowed him to see how much she enjoyed it.

His hardness against her tongue tensed and seemed to grow larger.

“Stop,” he ground out.

Marin immediately released him. His cock stood thick and hard in front of her face. He'd released it and the engorged tip pulsed in time with his racing heartbeat. Her mouth ached for the swollen heat of him against her lips once more.

“I want to be in ye when I come.” Bran brought her to her feet and caught her in his arms.

The movement was quick and strong and nearly took Marin's breath away with how badly she needed exactly this. Longing burned like stars in his eyes, bright and hot. His jaw flexed and he pushed aside the loosened sleeve of her gown. He bent over her and ran his tongue over the top of her shoulder to the crook of her neck. Waves of delicious tingles spread through Marin's body; her skin incredibly sensitive with the brilliance of her yearning.

With one hand, Bran slipped the laces of her gown free. With the other, he reached into the open bodice and cupped her breast. She had been chilled by the sodden gown and his palm was like fire against her icy skin. His fingers found her hard nipple, which he rolled with wondrous skill.

He peeled the gown from her torso and let the fabric crumple to the ground in a sad, wet pile. Bran trailed his fingers down her flat stomach and did not hesitate to slip one between her thighs where her lust burned without control, without limit. Marin's hips bucked toward him and she gave a long moan.

He grunted with pleasure, his merciless finger stroking over her again and again, gliding against her sex until the poor swollen bud made her want to rage in frustration. His lips came down on hers and his tongue swept into her mouth. He claimed her mouth as he made promises to her body. Heat prickled through her palms and she began to tighten toward the nearness of a climax. So close. So very close.

Bran removed his hand and aided her in sitting on the wooden shelf at the rear of the tub where a lord's drink and food might be placed. It rocked under her but held her weight.

Before she could ask what he was about, Bran knelt on the wet ground and gently parted her legs. Marin might have been embarrassed at being so exposed, were she not so mindless with need. As it was, she offered no protest when he gazed between her thighs, nor when his fingers spread her sex.

She writhed with his touch, desperate for her crisis. Everything pulsed with a hot, heavy need, her senses so alight, she feared she might burn from the inside out. She opened her mouth to beg for release when he leaned forward and dragged his tongue over her aching center.

It was wicked and sinful and wrong and wholly incredible. She cried out and gripped the edge of the shelf. Her senses were intensely alive, sharp with the power of her desire. The wet heat of his mouth, the tease of sandalwood floating around her in the steamy air, as though all of him were completely consuming her.

He traced up and down with his tongue as his finger had done, and finally came to rest on the swollen bud. Marin's cries were hoarse, and her knees trembled. He groaned into her while he circled and flicked and sucked.

Her gasps hitched. She was helpless to restrain herself, even if she wanted to. And she did not. She was so nearly there, teetering on the edge of losing control, ready to fall and shatter into a million euphoric fragments.

He drew away from her with a devilish grin. “In the water.”

Her mind spun, trying to understand. He was killing her with this rise and fall of nearly climaxing. If she did not release soon, she might well explode.

Bran stepped into the tub and sank down into it. He paused with a jerk, then lifted the lost dagger and errantly flipped it onto the floor where it clattered. “I canna believe ye tried to kill me again.”

“I cannot believe I failed again.” Marin got into the bath with him. “Though if you keep teasing me thus…”

He beckoned her to join him. “Teasing ye?”

Marin sank into the water beside him, her skin tingling from having been so cold in her dress to being fully submerged in such glorious warmth. Bran caught her before she could fully sit on the bottom of the tub and guided her to him. No, not to him, over him.

“There will be no more teasing.” His hands slid up her hips and he gently pulled her down. “I want ye to ride me.”

“Here?” Marin asked in shock. This was where bodies were cleaned, not where--the blunt edge of Bran's hardness bumped her inner thigh. She bit her lip and gave an uncontrolled moan of need.