Page 34 of Laird Of Her Heart

She needed to taste him.

She set her hand on his stony thigh and drifted upward. His muscles bunched and he hissed a breath as she made her intentions clear. Though his body was delectable, though his skin was smooth and prickled with manly hair, she did not dally. She scudded her palm up and over his belly, and she enclosed him in her fist.

Damn.

He was like an iron rod, wrapped in velvet.

She pumped him once, slowly, gently. His growl rumbled through the tent. Or it might have been a plea of some kind. Easing up on her knees, she leaned forward and lapped at that tempting tip. He lurched. His fingers threaded through her hair, locked against her scalp.

He spoke not a word, but she knew what he wanted.

She wanted it too.

Sucking in a deep breath, she took him in. Took him deep.

“Christ.” A whisper.

Never before had she tasted something so delicious, so enticing, so heart-wrenchingly sweet. He filled her mouth with his manhood, filled her senses with his scent. Filled her soul with his essence.

She played with him, toyed with him. Nibbling and sucking and licking. All the while, she held on to him at the root, working him ruthlessly. She could have nursed him, tormented him all night with this leisurely lust, but he was not patient in the least.

As she clenched his ass for leverage, as she reached around and touched a tender spot, he roared and wrenched away.

“Nae.” A growl.

She affected a pout. “But I want to.”

“Nae.” He came down before her on his knees and cupped her cheeks. Kissed her. “Where did you learn such wicked things Maggie-mine?”

She grinned. “I read it in a book.”

His eyes widened. “What kinds of books do they have in Seattle?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“No doubt I would.”

But this was small talk, a distraction, a conversation that meant nothing and went nowhere. Simply a chance for him to regain his composure, his control as he laid her back on the furs and began a wicked torment of his own.

His mouth was like a forge, heating her, enflaming her everywhere it touched. And it touched her everywhere. He touched her everywhere. Her shoulders, her hips, her toes. He spent much time on the tender underside of her knees, which had her writhing before him. This, of course, only incited him to greater mischief.

He turned her over, and explored her back side; to her dismay, he seemed obsessed with the same tender spot she had dandled.

With a laugh, she rolled back and grinned at him. “Nae,” she said. And then she opened her legs to him and his attention dropped. Locked. His nostrils flared. He flicked a look at her—one that sent a fire raging in her belly—and then settled between her thighs.

She sucked in a breath as he opened her with this thumbs. He blew a breath on her heated skin and she moaned. But that delight was nothing to the slow and steady lap of his tongue. Ah, heaven. He teased her clit, making agonizing circles around the straining flesh. She fisted her fingers in his hair and yanked when he teased her too long. It was more than she could bear. It was hellish and heavenly and she needed, wanted—

Ah God. Yes.

He closed his lips around her and sucked. Her body seized. It was a small orgasm, but came from deep within. A pre-shock, perhaps, of the temblor to come.

He continued to work her, kiss her, nibble and lap as he slid two fingers into her. They filled her. Filled her deliciously.

“Ah,” he murmured around her. “So wet. So ready.”

Oh yeah. “Fuck me, Dominic.”

She should have kept quiet. His head jerked up. He stared at her. “What did you say?”