Warrior's Revenge

by Coreene Callahan

  God. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. Something else.

  Pressing closer, she twisted against him, offering him all, kissing him back with such eagerness she surprised herself.

  The ties of her gown gave way. As the heavy velvet slid down her body, Aurora flinched. Left in nothing but the translucent silk of her chemise, she pulled back. Breathless, she blinked and refocused on Brigham. Eyes the color of midnight met hers. Holding her immobile with naught but a look, he reached beneath the hem of her chemise. Silk rose in a whisper and swept up her thighs. The heat of his hand caressed her bottom. Her breath hitched. His callused hand settled. A gentle tug brought their hips into sharp alignment. The heated ridge of his erection pressed against her belly. The other hand continued on, sliding the material away from her torso, exploring the curves of her body before cupping her breast.

  Aurora’s eyelashes flickered. Merciful heavens. He was so hot his skin scorched her, sending ripples of sensation radiating in all directions. Watching her closely, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her nipple. An alluring back and forth stroke. Delicious pressure. Enthralling sensation as the bud furled and pleasure skipped through her.

  A breathy moan escaped her

  “That’s it, Aurora. Give it up. Let it go. Be mine.”

  The stimulation coupled with the deep timbre of his voice did her in. Aurora’s head fell back. Her spine bowed, presenting her like a gift. The position was one of surrender. Of supplication and need. She didn’t care. He offered pleasure, and she wanted it.

  Every last drop.

  Not denying her, Brigham lowered his head to her breast. The heat of his mouth touched her first. The damp stroke of his tongue second. Without mercy, he wet her through the thin silk of her chemise, then suckled gently, grazing her with his teeth, bathing her in need, making her squirm in his arms. Throaty sounds echoed in the quiet of the chamber as the throbbing between her thighs intensified, and she unraveled, thread by desire-filled thread.

  Turning her away from the fire, Brigham set her on the edge of a nearby table. Her chemise riding high on her thighs, Aurora watched him remove his belt and tunic. He shook his mane free of the fabric. She caught her breath. Oh, mercy. He was beautiful, so strong in all the right places. Slow to react, but yearning to touch, she raised her hands. Her fingertips ghosted over the wall of his chest as he stepped between the spread of her thighs. Running his palms down the outside of her legs, he kissed away her murmur of protest, continuing to caress her until she relaxed. Only then did he relinquish her mouth. Leaning away to grasp the hem of her chemise, he tugged, pulling it up and off her body.

  The cream wisp of silk hung in the air before drifting from view.

  Left naked in his arms, Aurora froze and waited for his reaction. Did she please him? Did he find her body inadequate in some way? All good questions. But ones she refused to ask. Pride wouldn’t let her. Maybe if she got lucky, he’d tell her he found her beautiful. Or, well, at the very least, show her somehow. No sooner did the thought arise, however, than the reality hit home. Goodness, he was staring at her, looking his fill and— “Bloody hell, Aurora.” Awe in his tone, he shook his head. “You’re more exquisite than I imagined.”

  And there it was. The compliment she craved. Foolish, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. She needed him to want her. To look at her with desire…with a yearning that only she could satisfy. Exactly like he was doing right now.

  Leaving no part of her untouched, his gaze traveled over her. His nostrils flared as he skimmed the curls between her thighs. As though transfixed, he reached out, brushing the fine thicket of hair with the backs of his fingers. Delight spiraled deep as he cupped her curls. She arched, astonished by the pleasure, asking for more. He didn’t deny her. He played in her heat, sliding in her silk folds. A low groan escaped him as she cried out and spread her thighs wider. He slipped one finger deep, then paused, waiting for her to adjust. When she arched and tilted her hips, he withdrew, then returned, pressing a little deeper, thrusting gently, then harder as she caught his rhythm.

  She raised her knees to grip his flanks and drew him closer, shivering as the sensitive skin of her inner thighs rubbed against the material of his leggings. Mesmerized by the smoothness of his dark skin, she pressed her hands against the wall of his chest. His heart pounded beneath her palms. His muscles flexed, reacting to her touch as she exploded. With a throaty murmur, Aurora spread her fingers wider against his skin, skimming his shoulders and arms, drifting down his back, grazing the hard expanse of his abdomen. At his swift intake of breath, she glanced up. He skewered her with the intensity of his dark eyes.

  Tiny sparks igniting in the pit of her stomach, Aurora cupped his nape and offered him her mouth. He accepted, delving deep to delight her with the dueling play of their tongues. He stole her breath, only to give her back his own. His hand left her, leaving her wanting as he withdrew from her slickness. Frustrated by his departure, she whimpered, only to sigh in relief when he came back. Gripping her bottom, he slid her close to the edge of the table.

  With a murmur, he encouraged her to open her legs wider, then rubbed against her. Welcoming the return of his fingers, Aurora shifted against him. A heartbeat passed before she realized what pushed against her was a great deal bigger than his fingers. Eyes widening in alarm, she tensed as he fit himself to her, the head of his shaft demanding entrance at the tender opening of her body. She reared. He advanced, and the pressure increased.

  She gasped as he thrust deep.

  Tears formed beneath her closed lids. Breath locked in her throat, she struggled to adapt. To accommodate him. To lessen the pain. Nothing worked. Not relaxing. Not moving. Not pushing him away either.

  Tears tipped over the edge of her lashes. “You’re hurting me.”

  “I know.” His voice was more rasp than croon. His hand left her hip to cup her cheek. Applying gentle pressure, Brigham turned her face toward him. He gave her a kiss before wiping the salty trail away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, little heart. ’Twas best quickly done and now…nay, don’t move. I must wait for you to adjust. If you move, I won’t be able to let you.”

  “Move?” Aurora hiccupped, appalled by his plan. “Nay, please…you don’t fit. You’ll hurt me more.”

  “I’ll fit in time. For now, trust me to make it good for you.” His hand on the outside of her leg, he hooked her knee over top of his hip and slid deeper between her thighs. “Bloody Hell, you are so sweet, loving. I dreamed of this.”

  Alarmed by his advance, Aurora slapped his shoulder. “I can’t.”

  “You can, Aurora. Easy now, we’ll go slow. Relax and accept what I can give you.” Teeth grazing her collarbone, he jumped to her throat, then nipped the underside of her chin.

  “O-oh!” Aurora shuddered, surprised by the love bite…along with the pleasure that followed.

  He hummed and withdrew. Rolling his hips, he returned to press deeper before retreating again. She stiffened and, quivering against him, caught her breath on a sob. Nails biting into his shoulders, Aurora closed her eyes and tired to follow his instruction, not knowing how to relax with him planted so deep inside her. It seemed an impossible endeavor. But then something eased—loosened its grip, stirred her senses—and the pain lessened. In its place, pressure built, rising in a bliss-filled crescendo. Her skin prickled. Her blood rushed. Her heart picked up the momentum, hammering hard as he moved again. Shifting toward him instead of away, she met his down stroke. Bliss hummed, and Aurora gasped. Oh, aye. That was more like it. Pleasure splashed through her, obliterating the vicious ache.

  “Oh, my…heavens,” she rasped, allowing Brigham to guide each movement.

  “Aye, like that, loving,” she heard him say from some distant plane. With a groan, he urged her on, murmuring her name when she caught his rhythm. “Move with me, aye. Christ, you’re sweet…so bloody sweet.”

  Rhythm well established, he allowed his hands to roam, skimming her back and bottom, moving down her thighs and ac
ross her belly before cupping both of her breasts. He played, teasing the sensitive peaks with his fingertips. A shock wave of sensation pooled in her abdomen, fueling her frenzy.

  Her eyes closed, Aurora wrapped both of her legs about his waist. He snarled in approval. She growled back, holding him tight, rolling her hips, giving as good as he gave her. He increased the pace. The smooth slide of his body caused heat and friction to unite. Muscles deep inside her contracted. Pulsing hard, she exploded around him, screaming in delight as he plunged faster and deeper still. The rolling force of his hips made her buck. Another glorious wave rippled through her, flinging her beyond the senses, straight into the bliss of physical release.

  Drunk on pleasure, she clung to Brigham. He was her anchor in the surging seas. A bastion of strength in a raging storm. Her be-all and end-all in the moment. And as he shouted her name, stiffening against her, Aurora let herself fall and sank into the beckoning darkness, a soft smile of satisfaction on her face.

  Brigham woke with a start. It took him a moment to remember where he slept. Not at home in his own bed, that was for certain. And the hour? Very late. The coals in the hearth told the tale, glowing through dense shadows, illuminating the thick rug stretched out in front of it. A soft, warm body stirred beside him.

  Memory returned in a blinding flash.

  Aurora. His new bride. Passion incarnate.

  Brigham rumbled in satisfaction. Christ, he liked that she lay next to him. A strange reaction. He never shared his bed. Oh, aye, he’d indulged in plenty of sex on a regular basis, but not where he slept…nor in his personal space. Aurora, however, was now an exception to the rule.

  His mouth curved as he drank her in. Deeply sated, fast asleep, her limbs wrapped about his, she nestled against him. Taking care not to disturb her, he shifted, lifting himself partially away. His gaze roamed her face. Cheeks flushed, lips parted, her breasts rising and falling, hair a tangled halo about her head.

  All his…irrefutably his.

  Every incredible inch of her.

  The thought should’ve unsettled him. The fact it didn’t mystified him more than he wanted to admit. The contentment he felt with her in his arms was misplaced. Nothing had changed. Not the circumstances. Not his opinion either. Women—and wives in particular—were naught but trouble. But somehow, Aurora had broken through all his barriers.

  Which confused the hell out of him.

  Brigham frowned. Something about her pushed all his buttons. Proof positive lay in the fact one of his cardinal rules lay shattered. Marriage. Christ help him. He’d thought never to repeat the nightmare. Yet here he lay…next to his new bride. Setting his chin on his fist, he stared into the darkness, trying to understand…to fit the pieces to the puzzle.

  Aurora stirred, reclaiming his attention. With a sigh, she snuggled deeper into the feather bed, turning her head toward him until he felt the faint rush of her breath. Unable to resist, he reached out to touch her. Lifting an errant curl from her cheek, he brushed the fullness of her bottom lip with his fingertips before curling his palm around the curve of her breast. She murmured and arched, stirring him to life with the barest provocation.

  Desire roared through him.

  Battling errant urges, Brigham drew rein, wrestling with his body for control. He wanted her again…no question. But he wouldn’t take her—not now, not tonight, nor tomorrow. She would be too sore. Her body needed time to recover from the loss of her maidenhead. He hoped she recovered fast, knowing he would be unable to resist the temptation of her for long.

  Even now, the memory of their passionate romp haunted him, making him doubt reality. ’Twas inconceivable an untried virgin had taken him to such sensuous heights. He’d never experienced the like. Oh, he’d known he would enjoy bedding her. Right from the beginning….from his very first glimpse of her.

  He just hadn’t expected her to be spectacular.

  Her fiery response drew him deep, so deep he marveled at the pleasure he found in her arms. Exceptional in every way. She was beyond beautiful, and although he hadn’t wanted another wife, now that he was committed, Brigham couldn’t deny the benefits of having one he desired. Which clinched it, setting a new plan in motion. And as he watched her sleep, he vowed to nurture her budding instincts.

  Infinite possibility at his fingertips, his anticipation spread like wildfire. His mouth curving in a smile, Brigham ticked off each one—cataloguing the sensual alternatives, making lists, filing them away to draw from another time—before caressing her breast one more time and pulling the coverlet over them both. Hmm, aye. He could hardly wait to get started. Encouraging her passionate spirit while he stripped her of all inhibition would be incredible.

  Not to mention a whole lot of fun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Madman on the Loose

  Floating between dreams, Aurora lay belly-down amid velvet and silk. Muscles lax and limbs heavy, she drifted, wrapped in luxurious warmth. In no hurry to return to the realm of consciousness, she pushed all intelligible thought aside, content to wallow in the dark comfort of her haven. Something told her—a spark of awareness or mayhap more of a muted inkling—she shouldn’t be lounging abed, but she refused to guess at the reason. She simply didn’t care. So with a hum she hovered, too happy in her oblivion to ruin the moment, never mind— Swoosssssh.

  The shriek of metal reverberated through the chamber. Crimson bed curtains were yanked aside, heavy rings dragging across iron rods. Bright light flooded the surface of the bed. Aurora cursed and sought cover, thrusting her head under the pillow in the nick of time.

  Blast and damn. Who the devil was that?

  “Up, sleepy-head. The day is upon us.”

  She groaned as someone pulled the remaining curtains aside. Another curse formed on the tip of her tongue. Grumbling beneath her breath, she opened one eye and peered over the edge of the coverlet. The offending brilliance of the morning sun blinded her. Squinting against the glare, she glowered at her tormentor, hoping to scare him into submission. Mayhap then he’d leave her the hell alone and scurry back from whence he came.

  To her dismay, her scowl didn’t produce the desired results.

  Hands busy, the intruder ignored her, moving around the edge of the bed to secure the thick curtains to their posts. He hummed a jolly tune, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth as if he hadn’t interrupted one of the most satisfyingly sleepy interludes she’d ever experienced.

  “Go away, Nate.”

  “I’ve come to wake you, Rory.”

  “Mission accomplished,” Aurora said before burrowing back underneath the warmth of her blankets. “Now go away.”

  Nate chuckled.

  She grumbled from beneath the heavy velvet, threatening him with bodily harm.

  “Let me put it to you another way, Rory. I’ve been instructed to wake you,” he said, sounding far too amused. “So, up!”

  That got her attention. She threw the coverlet back to reveal her head. Flipping the tangle of hair out of her eyes, she glared at him. “By whom?”

  “Your lord.”

  “My…” She blinked. “Who?”

  Nate raised a brow and propped his shoulder against the massive bedpost. “Your husband. Or have you forgotten so soon?”

  Her husband? Really?

  As her brain turned over, Aurora stared at Nate. Was he speaking a different language? Or had she simply gone daft? Suffering from a delayed reaction, she fought to clear the sleep away as she searched her memory for answers.

  Clarity arrived with mind-numbing rapidity.

  She shifted beneath the sheets. Fine silk slid against her naked skin. Her mouth fell open, and she grimaced as an ache thrummed through her, keeping time with her heartbeat. Throb-throb…ouch. That was, well…unpleasant. Frowning, she tucked the sheets beneath her arms and sat up, curling her legs beneath her. Her eyes widened. Muscles she didn’t know she possessed protested the shift. And it all came rushing back in vivid, throbbing detail. Every moment. Ever
y sigh. Every scream. Every blasted detail of last eve’s events, and her part in them. Heat bloomed across her face, warming her cheeks.

  Not remember? Good lord. No possibility of that.

  And aye. ’Twas such a welcome surprise: the way Brigham had touched her, how he made her feel…the astounding pleasure of it. Her mouth curved. Lucky. She was beyond fortunate. Her new husband not only knew what he was about, but cared enough to show her the truth of it.

  A rare combination.

  At least, she thought so. No one had ever thought enough of her to be so patient—or gentle—with her. No one but Brigham.

  “Ah, so you do remember,” Nate said, tone smug, satisfaction stamped all over his face. He raised a blond brow. “That good, was he?”

  Aurora scowled and yanked her mind out of the gutter. Away from her husband’s skilled bed play. ’Twas none of Nate’s affair. Blast his meddling hide. Not that he cared. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted to get personal. Required all the details. So aye. No doubt about it. She must formulate a suitable retort and head him off at the pass. Otherwise, he would needle her to death.

  Her eyes narrowed on him, she warned him with a look.

  It didn’t work. More’s the pity.

  “I would have been disappointed had he not been.” Nate sighed, sounding set upon. Aurora chose her weapon and Nate dodged sideways, ducking the pillow she threw at his head. “After all, just look at him. He’s beyond gorgeous. ’Tis really too bad he prefers women. Such a terrible waste of a good…”

  “Do not say it! Do not even think it,” Aurora snapped, incensed by his audacity. Brigham was hers. Hers, by God. Nate would do well to remember that fact. Besides, if her husband became aware of her best friend’s particular preferences, ’twas likely he would pound Nate, head first, into the ground.