The Campbell Trilogy

by Monica McCarty

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I prevented him from doing so.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “You did?”

  He nodded. “You were unconscious, and I wasn’t sure how much you remembered. I would have said something earlier if I’d known what you thought.” His face grew grim. “But be assured the scourge paid the price for what he attempted.”

  He could see that she’d understood—the soldier was dead.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, lifting her eyes to his.

  Though he knew she was relieved to discover she hadn’t been raped, he also knew that her fears would not be so quickly forgotten. But he also knew that making love would bring them closer. How could he show her …

  All at once, he knew.

  He took her hand, drawing it up to his mouth to place a soft kiss on her palm. “You show me what you want.” He saw her uncertainty.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I swear that I will not touch you unless you ask it of me.” Heaven help me. “If you want to stop, just say so.” She would be in control.

  She looked at him uncertainly. “You would do this for me?”

  “Aye.” He lifted her hand to his mouth. “I told you, I want to bring you pleasure.”

  She blushed. “You were, until …”

  He thought for a moment. Until he’d moved over her and slid his hands between her legs. The first could be solved easily enough; the second, well, if he did his part, she would be begging for his touch.

  He lay down in bed beside her and rolled her on top of him, excruciatingly aware of every inch of her incredible body plastered to him. Her long, slim legs were entwined with his, the curve of her hip nestled against his manhood, her lush, round breasts crushed against his chest, and the delicate pink tips poked him erotically. The sensation of this delectable woman poured over him was so extraordinary, and so unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, that Jamie wondered if he’d been hasty in his vow not to touch her.

  He said a quick prayer for strength and tried not to think about it—which was easier said than done with her molded against him.

  When he looked into her eyes, he could see her surprise—but not, he was relieved to see, fear.

  “Um … are you sure it can be done …” She bit her lip. “Is this natural?”

  God, yes. He tried not to groan, thinking just how natural this position could be. He didn’t want to think of his hands around her waist, her breasts bouncing against his hands as she moved up and down on his throbbing—

  Hell.

  Clearing the lustful images from his head, he answered, “There is more than one way to make love, Caitrina. And I promise to show you all of them.”

  The shy blush that rose to her cheeks was one of the most sensual things he’d ever seen, for he could see the eager curiosity in her eyes.

  He held his hands firmly at his side, resisting the urge to slide them along the smooth curve of her back and cup the lush swell of her buttocks.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what to do,” she said, clearly embarrassed.

  “Whatever you will,” he replied. “I’m yours to command.”

  She considered for a moment, and the naughty smile that played upon her lips sent a chill of foreboding straight through him. The feeling, so foreign, could only be described as alarm. He, a man who’d made hardened warriors turn and run on the battlefield, was scared of a wee lass.

  What in Hades had he done?

  She looked at his mouth, unconsciously sliding her tongue along her lower lip. Heat rushed over him. “You mean if I kiss you …” She lowered her mouth to his until only a hairbreadth separated them. The succulent honey of her breath made his mouth water. “You will not kiss me back?”

  His body went rigid as she placed a tender kiss on his mouth. He had to grip the bedcoverings to fight the hard swell that rose inside him, demanding a response. He wanted to kiss her hard, to have his tongue deep in her mouth as he devoured her senseless.

  “Not if you don’t want me to,” he said tightly.

  He felt her relax, her body eased against him, melting. It was pure torture.

  She kissed him again, sliding her tongue between the crease of his mouth. His chest pounded, his cock jerking hard against her. Where in the hell had she learned to do that?

  If it was instinct, as he suspected, he was in trouble—deep trouble.

  But he didn’t have time to contemplate the future because she kissed him again. Pressing her soft lips to his and sliding her tongue in his mouth in a slow, tender sigh.

  Her soft hand held his cheek as she stroked him with her tongue as he’d so foolishly taught her. It was all he could do not to flip her over on her back and kiss her as deeply as she was begging for.

  “Kiss me,” she murmured.

  He groaned with relief, circling his tongue against hers, sparring, delving, tasting her every bit as deeply as she had him. She was so sweet and hot, he couldn’t get enough.

  Blood was pounding through his body. His erection was so hard, he knew she must feel him. As if reading his thoughts, she moved her hips over him, wedging him firmly between her legs.

  He couldn’t breathe.

  Unaware of what she was doing to him, she broke the kiss and trailed her lips along his jaw and neck, singeing a path of fire on his skin. Her hands fanned over his chest and arms, exploring every ridge and bulge of muscle with almost childish delight, as if she were a bairn opening a gift at Yule.

  His heart pounded, his cock pounded, every instinct clamored to touch her, but he held still under her innocent scrutiny.

  He counted to ten in his head, doing anything to keep his mind from what she was doing to his body.

  What had possessed him to do this? She lifted her chest off him a little to slide her hand between them, her hand skimming his stomach as her tongue slid along his neck. Every muscle in his body tensed. Her fingers trailed across the rigid bands of his stomach, and the feathery touch so achingly close was almost more than he could bear. He had to grit his teeth to prevent another groan.

  Her hand dipped lower, to the waist of his breeches, and her palm accidentally brushed over the throbbing head of his erection. His buttocks clenched as he fought the urge to thrust.

  He must have made a sound because she lifted her mouth from his neck. He could see the uncertainty in her gaze. “Did I hurt you?”

  He shook his head and said tightly, “Only because I want you so much.”

  She slid her eyes down to him, seeing how he strained against the leather of his breeches. If possible, it only made him harder. “Would it help if I touched you?”

  “Yes,” he lied, even though he knew it would only make it infinitely worse. But what she offered him was so tantalizing, he could not speak the truth. Her tiny hand wrapped around him …

  He shook off the thought and steeled himself for her touch.

  “What do I do?”

  “Undo the ties.” She did as he directed. He knew he shouldn’t, but he had to watch her. Her eyes widened, seeing him in the flesh—all of him. He wondered if she would change her mind, but after a long pause she raised her eyes to his in question. “Circle me with your hand,” he said softly.

  “I’ll try.”

  He closed his eyes and groaned. Oh God, that felt good. Her hand was soft and cool, and he was so hot. He jerked a little in her hand as a drop of fluid escaped from his tip. Her grip around him was tentative, but sweet … achingly sweet.

  Because he didn’t think he could speak, he covered her hand with his and showed her how to stroke him.

  Flames roared in his ears as he gave himself over to the fire she wrought in his blood. Pleasure unlike anything he’d ever known rushed over him.

  She stroked him faster, harder, until the pressure built to erupting, his body clenched, and he knew he was about to come.

  He grabbed her wrist. “Stop,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’ll unman me.”

  His heart
pounded as he fought for control. She looked at him questioningly. “I’ve been too long without a woman,” he explained, though he knew it had nothing to do with that—he had always been a man of prodigious control even when it came to sex—but everything to do with this woman.

  His explanation seemed to please her. She leaned down and kissed him again. “How long?” she murmured against his mouth.

  He thought about it a minute and decided to tell her the truth. “Since I first saw you.”

  Caitrina didn’t know why, but his declaration pleased her enormously. She wasn’t exactly sure what his need to stop had to do with other women, but it didn’t matter. He’d lain with no one else since he’d met her. It must mean something. Perhaps he did care for her.

  She could tell from the strain in his body that what she’d done had pleased him. And pleasing him, she realized, had also pleased her.

  She felt relaxed, confident, and most important, eager to continue.

  She kissed him again, rubbing her body ever so gently against his. The places where they touched tingled with sensation. But it wasn’t enough; she craved the weight and pressure of his hands.

  She kissed him harder, trying to convey her wishes with her mouth. She could feel the passion stirring inside him but knew that no matter how hard she drove him, he would hold to his vow.

  She would have to tell him.

  Her mouth moved across his jaw, rough with stubble, to his ear. “Touch me,” she whispered. “Please, touch me.”

  “Where?” he asked.

  The heavy brogue of his voice seemed as rich and dark as molten lava, sinking deep into her bones. No man should have a voice like that—one that could seduce with a word. “Everywhere,” she answered.

  He moaned and cupped her breasts lovingly in his hands, pinching her nipples to taut peaks. “Like this, my sweet?”

  She threw back her head, giving herself over to the exquisite sensations wrought by his powerful hands on her body. Hands that could wield a claymore with deadly strength but could stroke and caress with painstaking tenderness.

  His mouth clasped over one nipple as he drew it deep in his mouth, tugging it between his teeth until her body—of its own accord—started to move against him. She felt his erection hot and throbbing against her belly. Like the rest of him, he was a big man. Though she’d felt him pressed against her body, she hadn’t quite realized just how big until she’d released him from the confines of his breeches. For a moment, all she could feel was shock and not a wee bit of trepidation—until she’d taken him in her hand. She remembered how he’d felt—like velvet over steel. But most of all, she remembered how it had felt to harness all that raw masculine strength in the palm of her tiny hand. She had the power to make him weak with pleasure, and the knowledge was both thrilling and emboldening, giving her confidence she would have thought impossible.

  “I want you naked,” he said, and his eyes bored into her with a passion that was almost frightening in its intensity. It wasn’t merely lust, but something far deeper. Something that wrapped around her like a warm, fuzzy plaid. Something that she’d never thought she’d feel again: secure.

  She nodded, and he deftly pulled her nightraile over her head, depositing it on the floor beside the bed. She was no longer on top of him, but stretched out beside him.

  She didn’t have time to be embarrassed by her nudity because he was sucking her breasts again, lifting them to his face and nuzzling between the deep cleft. The scratch of his whiskers was a welcome friction against her fevered skin.

  Never had she felt so cherished. He worshipped her with his mouth and tongue. As if trying to memorize every inch of her, he sculpted her with his hands, leaving nothing unexplored. The long, slow drag of his callused palms across her feverish skin made her prickle with awareness. It was exquisite, beautiful in its torture. Every touch, every move he made, was calculated for her pleasure. Desire gathered between her legs in a heated pool. She was warm and soft and desperate for his touch.

  His lips covered hers again in a wet, openmouthed kiss that was dark and carnal. His fingertip skidded along the inside of her thigh. Her breath caught in anticipation.

  “Tell me,” he whispered. She nudged toward his hand, but all he did was gently sweep over her with the tip of his finger. “Do you want me to touch you here, Caitrina?” She was in such anguish, her entire body shuddered from the feather-soft touch.

  “Please,” she begged, pressing against his hand, craving pressure.

  She moaned when he finally slid his finger inside her, bringing her to the very peak of pleasure with his deft stroking. He was pulling her down a long, dark tunnel of sensation where all she could think of was releasing the pressure building between her legs.

  He murmured wicked encouragements in her ear, driving her wild. She was so close.…

  But she wanted more. She wanted to share her pleasure with him. Instinctively, she reached out to take him in her hand, her fingers wrapping around his hot, velvety skin. “Show me,” she said.

  His hand went still. His gaze met hers. “You’re sure?” She nodded.

  Taking her by the hips, he gently guided her on top of him so that she straddled him with her legs. The feel of his thick, heavy column between her thighs gave her a moment’s pause, but all was forgotten when he moved her over his tip. Her body started to quiver as he nudged gently at her opening with the smooth, round head. She spread her legs wider and slowly lowered her body over him.

  He made a sound that was almost pained as she sank down, taking the heavy head inside her. She stopped when she felt a bit of resistance and allowed her body to get used to the sensation of being stretched around him, trying to decide whether it hurt.

  He held himself perfectly still, not moving an inch, though she knew that he was holding himself by a very thin thread. She could see the grim determination on his face, the muscles in his neck and shoulders drawn as tight as the string of a bow.

  “It doesn’t hurt so badly at all,” she decided.

  He made a sound that was like a strangled laugh. “I’m afraid we’re not quite done yet, my love.”

  Love. She knew it was a turn of phrase, an endearment uttered in the heat of the moment, but it did not stop the pang of longing in her chest. “We’re not?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  She tried to sink down a little more and stopped. “I’m afraid this is as far as I can go, you are simply too big.”

  This time he managed to smile. “Words to warm the heart of any man, my sweet, but I can assure you it will work. I must break through your virgin’s barrier. I can make it go fast, but I’ll not lie to you, it will hurt.”

  She nodded. Before she could reconsider, his hands grasped her waist, and holding her gaze, in one smooth motion he thrust up high inside her. Deep inside her. She felt a sharp pinch and cried out.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice tight with restraint.

  Her body fought the invasion and her first instinct was to lift off of him, but he held her firm.

  “Give it a minute,” he urged. “Try to relax. God, you feel incredible.”

  He started to massage the tip of the opening between her legs with his thumb, and slowly her body softened. The sweet drowsy feeling spread over her again.

  “That’s it,” he groaned, rubbing her a little harder. He was right: It did feel incredible, unlike anything she’d ever imagined. She never thought she could feel this close to someone. He seemed to fill her, his manhood providing all the pressure she had craved—and more.

  Her body began to move, lifting up a little and sinking down on him again. She fell into a natural rhythm. Never had she felt so free.

  She knew from the look of rapture on his face that she must be doing something right.

  As her pulse started to race frantically, he clasped her hips and helped move her faster over him. Churning, plunging, harder and harder. Faster and faster. Until …

  Her body contracted in the tight grip of pleasu
re and started to pulse. It must have been all that he’d been waiting for, because she sensed him relax and let go.

  “I’m going to come,” he said tightly, and thrust one more time, penetrating to her very core. Their eyes met, and what she saw there made her heart squeeze. The tender emotion was a sharp contrast to his usual cold implacability; she knew he’d revealed a part of himself that she’d never seen before—that maybe no one had ever seen before.

  He cried out as his body tensed and the hot rush of his seed exploded inside her.

  And she rose up to meet him, arching her back and crying out as her own release swept over her. It was the same as before, only much more intense. The slow breaking apart, the sharp pinnacle of sensation, the brief moment where her heart stopped and her soul seemed to touch the heavens. But this time, she was not alone.

  I’m not alone.

  She wanted it to last forever and clung to the sensations as long as she could, riding each wave until the last tingle of sensation had ebbed.

  Breathing hard, she slumped forward onto his chest, their skin pleasantly slick with the sheen of perspiration.

  Her cheek was pressed to his chest. Listening to the frantic beat of his heart begin to slow, she closed her eyes.

  Jamie heard the soft, even sounds of her breathing and knew she slept. He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t have words to describe what he was feeling and was glad for the time to collect himself.

  What the hell had just happened?

  It was like nothing he’d ever experienced. He’d known their attraction was strong, but it did not explain the connection he’d felt when deep inside her. A connection that had far more to do with sating his soul than with sating his lust. Never had a woman so completely penetrated his iron-forged control. She’d revealed a part of him that he hadn’t known existed.

  He stroked her hair, contemplating the strange tightness in his chest. The overwhelming feeling of tenderness for the tiny woman in his arms. His wife. He’d thought that would be enough, but it wasn’t. He wanted more, much more. He wanted her love, trust, and respect. For without the latter two, the first was impossible.