Page 28 of Blood & Roses

“Rowan,” I gasped, weaving my fingers into his hair. “Gods, what are you doing?”

“Tasting,” he answered lazily, flicking his tongue through me in a long sweep that was too much and not enough at the same time. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I breathed, shuddering as pleasure spiked through me. “Just—gods—no one has ever—” I gasped, writhing shamelessly as he teased me.

“You have no idea how much it turns me on that I’m the first to taste you, Isolde,” he purred between strokes of that wicked tongue. I fisted my hands in the sheets as he worked me, testing and teasing until he found a rhythm that had me squirming against him.

“Rowan,” I moaned, giving over to the pleasure as all thought besides what his tongue was doing to me eddied from my brain. “Please.”

“More?” he asked, circling a finger gently at my entrance and sliding it through my slick heat. I moaned, and he chuckled, sliding a second finger in to join the first. “Definitely more. That’s it, Isolde. Ride my hand. Take what you need.”

I cried out, his command enough to tip me over the edge he had worked me to. I shuddered through the release, gasping and moaning so loudly I was sure the patrons in the adjoining rooms knew exactly what was going on within this one.

I didn’t care as Rowan continued to wring pleasure from me, his tongue and fingers continuing to work me as the first orgasm shimmered out and a second began to build.

“You don’t haveto—”

“I want to,” he cut in, groaning a little as I convulsed around him, those fingers inside me curving in a way that had me crying out. “This is my new favorite place.”

I shattered, and he stroked me through it. When the spasms had eased and I was panting on the bed, completely spent, he kissed my inner thigh once, twice, three times, and gave me a feral grin. “Again.”

Chapter 14

Rowan kissed his way up my body, my limbs too weak and shaking to do more than flail limply as he kissed a line of fire up my torso.

I found the strength to move my arms once he made it to my lips, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him to me roughly.

“I want you inside me,” I begged, voice pleading in a way that would have embarrassed me if I hadn’t needed him so badly. “Please.”

“Such manners tonight,” Rowan teased, pressing kisses to my jaw. I was still too boneless to do much more than whine, and he chuckled as he nudged himself to my entrance. “Are you sure you want me, Isolde?”

“Stop teasing and fuck me properly,” I growled, making him laugh again as he slid inside me with aching, deliberate slowness.

Rowan groaned when he was seated to the hilt, and I gasped with pleasure at the aching fullness, fingers digging into his firm biceps. He was a well-endowed male, and I ached for him to move, to thrust, to take me like a beast.

But he was gentle. Slow. Precise. He waited, one arm cradling me to him as he kissed me deeply, making sure I was perfectly ready for him.

“Please,” I begged, arching my hips to force him to move already.

He chuckled, nipping my lower lip between his teeth. “I had ten hours on a horse to imagine this, Isolde,” he said, pulling out so, so slowly before sliding back in and making me gasp again. “Ten torturous hours. I intend to make this last. To torture you as you tortured me.”

“Cruel male,” I gasped as he slid out and in again, his movements painfully slow. “I didn’t torture you on purpose.”

“True,” he conceded, kissing me again. “I suppose I can commute your sentence. For good behavior, of course.”

“So cruel,” I said again, arching into him and biting his lip in response. “Perhaps I should punish you by not letting you finish.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he growled, deepening the kiss and moving a little faster, as if he wasn’t totally convinced I was bluffing. “Wicked, evil creature.”

I met his thrusts with my hips, arching into him as we found a rhythm, our kisses growing more frenzied and inelegant as he finally stopped teasing me and chased his pleasure.

He shifted his hips slightly, and the spot he hit inside me had me unraveling again beneath him, a writhing creature of need and pleasure as he pounded into me, my own release forcing him to follow shortly after.

He buried his face in my neck, biting down gently as he spilled into me. I held him through it, stroking gently down his back as I caught my breath and marveled at the pleasure he’d wrung from me.

It had certainly not been likethatbefore.

“Isolde,” he murmured, kissing me again before rolling over and pulling me with him. He settled me into the crook of his arm, holding me tightly to him on our sides as he continued to kiss me and murmur senseless words of praise and adoration. “Gods, Isolde.”