Page 81 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

“Shall I give you my mouth?” he asked. “I need you wet for this, sweeting,” his words were dark with promise. “It’s going to be rough.”

Linnet bit her bottom lip, trying to find the courage to tell him she was already wet. “I . . . I don’t think I need it,” she admitted on a gasp.

He drew an unsteady breath and slid one hand up her thigh, watching her the whole time through gleaming eyes. When he found her wet core, he slid his fingers right into her, making her cry out.

“You’re so wet,” he said thickly and came to his feet, still holding her skirts bunched at her waist. “So beautiful,” he said, staring down at her exposed cunny. “And all mine.” He brought his two fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, watching her reaction. “Of course, I owe you my mouth after last night,” he said. “But I’ll get to that later.”

His hands slid around to fondle her bare buttocks and Linnet’s head fell forward to rest against his chest a moment as she tried to pull herself together. It was almost too much, this assault on her senses. He hauled her back up, pressing her back against the hard wood of the door, supporting her with the hard muscle of his thighs. He reached down and started unlacing his crotch.

“Brace yourself, Love,” he said. “I’m about to fuck you like Sir Maurency did that tavern wench.”

Linnet’s head snapped up. “What?” she stammered. “That never—”

“Trust me,” he growled, adjusting his clothing and then sliding one hand beneath her bottom to boost her up where he wanted her.

He aligned their hips and then slid the head of cock until it was poised at her entrance, where she ached for him. He looked into her eyes as he eased into her inch by inch.

“In real life he would have.” They both panted and shifted against each other until he was fully sheathed inside her.

Linnet wrapped her legs around him and he took her mouth again in a surprisingly tender kiss.

Linnet pulled away first, gasping for a breath. “What if Sir Maurency was married?” she blurted.

He didn’t miss a beat. “I saw her freckles, Linnet. They are married,” he groaned and thrust.

Linnet clung to him. “You noticed the freckles,” she said in slight dismay. She tipped her head back until it bumped against the wooden door.

“Of course I noticed them,” he grunted, pounding his hips into her. “I’m obsessed with them. I only wish you’d given her more.” He kissed her neck, her cheek, her forehead.

“More freckles?” she gasped, as she concentrated on the pleasure coiling deep in her belly. His pistoning hips; the feel of his big, warm hands; his greedy, hot mouth gliding over her throat.

“I like my tavern wenches covered in them,” he said huskily. “All over their bodies. All over their beautiful faces.”

Linnet sobbed and he ran his hands down her silk covered bodice, squeezing and rubbing at her small, high breasts and then stroking down until he reached the slickness where they were joined. The fact that she was still half-clothed somehow added to the thrilling sensation of being ruthlessly taken. She wished she could feel more of his skin though. She slid a hand across his tanned collarbone to the warm pulse she could see fluttering in his neck.

“Just how close are you, my leopardess?” he whispered and rubbed the pad of his thumb against her.

Linnet tensed and then cried out as her pleasure burst forth and engulfed her. She hung on for dear life as Mason hammered into her with renewed vigor, right the way through her own blissful tremors until, at last, he shouted his own release, pressing his hips forward and crushing her between his big hard body and the door as he spent himself inside her.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was their mutual ragged breaths. Then he kissed her temple and swung her round, crossing the room and dumping her on the mattress. He followed her down, kneeling between her outspread legs and lazily stripping off his tunic. Linnet lay too sated to worry about what view he was getting and the fact her legs were splayed. She concentrated on taking deep breaths as her eyes started to close. She felt too pleasurably exhausted. Too relieved by the shattering communion of their bodies. She gave a muffled exclamation when she found herself swiftly turned and dumped on her front. Then she felt his fingers at the lacings up the back of her sleeves.

“Who the fuck would put lacings in such a damn awkward place?” he muttered. “Did Postner make you this gown?”

“No,” she murmured, her eyes drifting shut.

He slapped her on the rump, and Linnet’s eyes jolted open. “Mason!”

“Up wench, let’s get this off you,” he said, sounding amused.

She grumbled as she clambered to her knees, and he wrenched the yellow silk over her head. She vowed never to wear that wretched gown again! Her shift followed and then her shoes and stockings.

“Under the covers,” he said, stripping down the bed, but when she tried to comply, he caught her about the waist and hauled her back into his arms, so he could kiss down her spine and across her shoulder blades.

Linnet giggled when he finally released her and scrambled under the cool sheets. Her eyes closed with a happy sigh. She could hear Mason stripping off the last of his own clothes before he slid in beside her, hauling her into his embrace. She turned into his hard, warm body and snuggled closer as he kissed her cheek and wound his fingers into her hair.

“Are you going to sleep?” he asked suspiciously after a moment.

“No,” murmured Linnet sleepily. She gently kissed his chest.