The Emerald Isle Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vincent, Renee

  She swallowed hard. “I am not accustomed to men such as you. Though I want more than anything to—” She stopped abruptly, lust blazoning across her face now. “I am not worthy of you.”

  He slid his hands from her face into the thickness of her hair, holding her so close her head tilted upward, her neck open and exposed. He clenched his jaw, fervently aware of her buxom body against his.

  “Worthy, you say? Woman, have you forgotten what I have done all my life? I have killed many men and will kill more before I am through. How do my actions make my worth more than your own?”

  “At least your actions are righteous.”

  “Only to some,” Gustaf confessed sardonically. “I believe nine others would argue differently.”

  “Even so,” Æsa insisted. “Your past dealings, at the least, have furnished you with a sense of satisfaction.”

  “Is that how you see it?”

  “I do,” she replied. “Everything I have ever done has been disgraceful.”

  “Disgrace comes only when the choice, itself, is disreputable.” Gustaf sympathized. “You were never given the freedom to choose otherwise, lest it meant your life. But with me, you will always have a choice.”

  Æsa swallowed hard again and looked as though she wanted something from him. As if she needed something but hadn’t the gall to ask for it. A wicked grin consumed his face. “You have never known satisfaction, have you?”

  She nearly laughed at his suggestive remark. “That was not the sort of satisfaction I was referring to.”

  Gustaf snickered. “Take me not for a fool, Æsa. I know well what you meant.” He lowered his face toward hers. “But if you want to feel proud of a choice you have made, you first have to make a decision. I am offering you one right now. Do you want me?”

  He slowly took her lips, tenderly as he held her to him.

  He breathed in, smelling the sweet scent of her skin. His groin tightened—and he had only begun to kiss her. What would his body do if she allowed him to press further?

  Willing to find out, he opened his mouth slightly and let his tongue slid across her bottom lip before he entered her mouth, tasting a wealth of passion. As he felt her velvety tongue twist with his, he couldn’t help but deepen the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers so as to welcome every delightful move her tongue initiated.

  The voluptuous swell of her breasts depressing against the close contact of his chest felt so soft and good, contrary to the rock-hard erection accosting him.

  He pulled away and gazed deep within her eyes. He loved her eyes as they looked like the untamed ocean trapped in crystalline glass. Heat burned from them like fire, blazing at an intensity which matched his mighty desire.

  As he struggled to tether the rampant craze within him, he felt the slightest touch of her hand on his thigh—so light and unpredictable, yet so obvious as it traveled upward, unleashing everything he had tried to restrain. His pulse quickened, his blood surged through his veins, and his breathing sped up to euphoric heights. Never had he felt this way for a woman, nor so quickly. She had the power to control every bodily reaction with the slightest of hand.

  Gustaf slipped his fist from her hair and grabbed her wrist, pulling it away from his thigh. In one swift motion, he was lying atop her with her hand now above her head, pinned down.

  “You have not made your choice, Æsa. I ask you again. Do you want me? Do you dare become accustomed to me and all of which I want to give you? Do you want to be satisfied? Do you want me to satisfy you?”

  ****

  What would have normally frightened the hell out of Æsa—a man holding her down with his weight alone—titillated every nerve in her more-than-eager body. She had never known men to offer anything, unless it was first given unto them. And even then, they’d barely remember their promise as they drifted off into climactic oblivion.

  Yet here, sprawled upon her, was Gustaf, wildly virile and undoubtedly aroused, instructing her that she will be satisfied before himself, if she dared to allow it.

  Was she dreaming?

  She thought she might very well be until she felt him nudge her jaw aside and lower his face to her neck. His steady warm breath swept across her skin as he slid his hand down her raised left arm to her ribs, tracing the curves of her waist and hip.

  “Do you want me, my lady?” he repeated.

  Æsa felt his lips brush across her throat, his sensual whispers—delivered in between each delightful peck—coaxing her to speak. Somehow she found the ability to answer him in the course of his foreplay, her consent screaming in her head.

  She then felt his hand move over her thigh, gathering both her tunic and shift in a fist and pulling it up above her belly. Goosebumps bred across her skin, but she was not in the least bit cold. With the warmth of the nearby fire and the heat of his body weighing upon her own, she was close to lighting afire.

  He lifted himself slightly from her and pulled the rest of her tunic over her head, leaving her bare and breathless. She knew very well he had seen her naked before, but for some reason, he looked as though this were the first time. His eyes drank her in.

  Æsa’s skin was smooth and faintly freckled. Her breasts were full and firm, and lay slightly beyond the outer rim of her ribcage, emphasizing the inward curvature of her narrow waist. Her stomach was a level plain of the most alluring torso he’d ever seen, adorned with a small navel and beautifully widened hips at its base. Her legs were long and shapely, one slightly bent and drooping so as to hide—or cleverly entice him to yearn for—the very private region of her body.

  Arduously, he dragged his eyes away from her pelvis, surprised to see her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath, her eyes nervously fluttering.

  Had he not seen for himself the kind of life she used to lead, he would never have believed her to be an experienced woman. In truth, she acted more like a youthful, chaste virgin, unsure of what would happen next.

  Gustaf gently laid his hand upon her chest, feeling her heart both pound and race within her. He looked up at her, a sincere concern in his eyes. “Shhh…” he whispered. “I am not going to hurt you, Æsa.”

  Before she could speak, he had already taken her right nipple into his mouth, a gasp replacing her words. He suckled her tenderly, rolling his tongue across the whole tip. He felt it harden immediately as he also undid the single button of his kirtle at his neck. Once he spent an adequate amount time at one breast, he quickly removed his shirt and dropped back down to lavish the other.

  ****

  The heat of Gustaf’s naked chest and stomach lying across her was like a blanket of fire, smoldering, yet painless, though no less sufferable as she yearned to feel more of him. She craved to be completely compressed beneath the bulk of his weight, taking in each blessed inch of his stiff manhood.

  She had never encountered such desire while beneath other men. With Gustaf, she felt it commence from deep inside her womb and spread to the outer folds of her sex, an unfamiliar sensation that nearly forced her body to shake with anticipation.

  She thread her fingers through his hair, pulling him to her so as to alleviate her torment. Her enthusiastic grasp seemed to only ignite his passion, and now she felt his hands bring aid to his mouth.

  He cupped her with masculine fingers while his tongue worked divine magic over each envious nipple, sending ripples of molten pleasure all the way to her toes.

  She writhed against him, which again triggered a subsequent response from him. He now held her tighter, using more of his body to his advantage. There was no escaping him.

  She wrapped her legs around his back, securing herself against the bulge at his hips. “Please…” she begged.

  His eyes flew up to hers. “I like the sound of that word on your lips, Æsa. Let us see if I can draw it out from you again.”

  His hand moved from her breast down to her side, stroking her stomach with a careful thumb before blazing a trail between her legs. He brushed his palm against her triangular thatch of dark
crimson curls, pushing her bent leg aside.

  As if he had all the time in the world, he ran a single finger slowly—agonizingly slow—over her folds, watching her elevate slightly to meet his touch.

  Once he reached the bottom of that lovely crevice, he found her to be wet, a glossy layer of her own passion clinging to his fingertip. He lingered there, stroking a circle around her opening before he pushed forward ever so gently into her silken barrier, penetrating her all the way to his last knuckle.

  A whimper escaped her.

  “I know not what I fancy best from your lips…your ‘please’ or that tiny delicious sound.” Gustaf didn’t ponder it long, as he seemed content to extract either-or from her with the continued movement of his finger. “Open your thighs wider for me,” he coaxed.

  How could she not do what he asked? He already proved he was a gifted charmer, and yet, with only one request, she was spreading her legs for him.

  She felt him slide down her body, his face inches below her navel, his finger still inside her. He respired softly against her belly and, using the very tip of his tongue, licked a path across her skin.

  Æsa shuddered beneath him.

  His eyes looked up to hers, lustful and beguiling. He licked her stomach again, but this time he had withdrawn his finger from her body and slid it up a bit higher to unearth her hidden treasure, caressing it with barely a touch. She nearly came out from under him.

  “I can certainly see what you fancy best,” he said, intent on discovering more of her favorites. “What if I did this…” He lowered his mouth to the swollen erectile nub.

  Though Æsa tried to brace herself, it was futile. She could hardly predict how glorious his lips would feel upon her, not to mention the searing heat of his breath emanating around her flesh.

  His tongue washed over her, propelling another ripple effect of heat and desire to flow through her loins. And when he allowed his fingers to pet her opening at the same time his tongue drew over her, she was helpless to hold back the rising sensations burning through her.

  As he teased and licked, he held her legs apart despite her compulsion to close them, never ceasing to be slow and steady with his tongue.

  Always tender and devotedly repetitive.

  Æsa arched her back, focused solely on the feel of his slick, warm tongue bathing her and his finger fondling her heated flesh. She never dreamed it would feel quite like this. Never had a man been so attentive to her needs, so willing to place her desires before his own. And for what?

  Absolutely nothing.

  He held naught over her head. No ultimatums, no bribes, no strings attached. Gustaf wanted to do this for her—his dark wanton stare confirmed it—though she could not understand why. And had it not been for his long, ardent erection pressed against her bare leg, she would’ve thought he was only pretending to enjoy himself.

  Æsa felt his movements change slightly and raised herself on her elbows to look. His face was angled in a different direction, his mouth wider, his hands more engaged.

  Everything he did to her was out of purpose—a personal mission, it seemed. And he didn’t stop until she overcame every deep, mounting pulse, let loose every irrepressible moan, and ran as wild and free as her own uncontainable cries from her splendid release.

  Gustaf looked up from his distal position between her legs and smiled as she collapsed out of exhaustion. “You are so beautiful, Æsa.”

  She barely opened her eyes, her mind spinning, her wits impaired. His touch was so intoxicating, so potent, even her limbs felt heavy with drunkenness. She could barely move.

  He then rose above her on his knees, undoing the laces of his breeches. She watched, mesmerized, his biceps and forearms flexing in his effortless work. Longing for this very moment, he stripped his legs of his pants and tossed them aside, lowering himself upon her. He braced the bulk of his weight with his elbows and gazed deeply into her eyes.

  “Are you ready to burn for me—again?” he said, articulating the last word.

  It was not as much of a question as it was a seductive utterance. And despite the few moments she had to catch her breath, she couldn’t answer.

  His massive body had already begun to shift and settle, spreading her wider. His hardened shaft entered her, deliciously permeating her feminine flesh. She responded with an impulsive gasp.

  He kissed her collar bone, soothing her as he rocked against her, letting the muscles of her own body naturally lure him in. Although she assumed the effortless entry was more taxing on his body than burying himself inside her with one satisfying drive, he seemed very fond of the pains it took to hold back. He groaned as her delicate warmth gradually devoured him.

  Once he was fully within her, he withdrew just as slowly, deepening his thrust each time after. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he gyrated his pelvis into hers, her sensitive nub feeling every stroke of his lower abdomen.

  “With me…” she breathed.

  Gustaf smiled, lowering his face to hers. “In time, my dearest, Æsa.”

  “Please,” she begged once more. “I cannot…hold…it much longer.”

  “The only thing necessary to hold on to, is me. Wrap your legs around my back,” he commanded sweetly.

  With Gustaf keeping his steady, sensual pace, holding back was no option. And how could she, given she was exactly where she wanted to be, beneath the man she had long desired to be with. She had no need for a wandering imagination as she only had to open her eyes and look at his gorgeous naked body thrusting into hers.

  His stomach was exactly as she imagined; flat with muscles rippling from nipple to navel. His chest was a wall of hardened flesh beneath widely spread shoulders, the very definition of brawn. And the part of him buried within her was swiftly becoming her favorite.

  Aye, there was no possible way to hold back. Her second release was more gratifying than the first, and stronger—passionately explosive.

  When she was through, Gustaf withdrew momentarily and rolled her spent body prone on the boxbed.

  She felt his large hands grip her hips and pull her to her knees, the heat of his rigid body brushing against her soft backside. She looked over her shoulder at him, aghast that he was now behind her and entering her once again from that very position.

  With his manhood gently impaling her, he continued to slide in deep, pull out, and slide in deeper, extracting yet another bout of burning pleasures from her.

  But how? How could this happen? He had already met and fulfilled his promise to satisfy her. And then, to her astonishment, exceeded it! Was it actually possible a third time—consecutively?

  Gustaf certainly seemed determined to try.

  At first, the position he’d hauled her up to seemed brazen and forbidden. With the other men, it was a position she grew to hate. It was degrading to be taken in a position commonly used by animals. But Gustaf proved it could be as sensual as the others, laying his chest against her back and holding her to him in such a warm embrace.

  His heated breath on the nape of her neck sent chills down her spine. His hands, lightly inching across the skin of her stomach and up to her breasts, weakened every muscle in her body.

  “Are you yet accustomed to me?” Gustaf whispered behind her ear.

  “I fear I shall never be,” Æsa said in a ragged breath.

  A deep fulfilling groan escaped him as his hands cupped her. He arched his back and thrust. With each movement of his hips, he stimulated a whole new place within her, and she was barely able to keep the fire of pleasure from igniting. As much as she tired to stifle it, the heat of her passion only escalated in this new and wild position.

  On all fours, there was no doubt he was deeper within her, but his hands were also free to move where ever he pleased—brushing light caresses across her painfully tight nipples or trailing below to search out and stroke the ever-sensitive flesh between her legs. There was no end to the wondrous attention he gave her.

  A shudder cascaded through her, and Gustaf groaned agai
n against her neck. The sounds she made from the tender play of his hands, and the willingness her body made to move against his groin, must have had him bursting.

  Æsa backed up against him, grinding herself into the tight corner of his angled body. He called her name, warning her behind clenched teeth. The sound of Gustaf’s blessed torment was like a thousand tongues licking over her at once and she had never known such delights. To be completely aroused by the sheer knowledge of her partner’s ravaging need was new to her, and she liked it.

  What was even more gratifying, was realizing her zealous warrior was weakening. He was not going to have enough power within him to impede the channeling rush of semen threatening to erupt from his rock-hard shaft, especially if she disregarded his warnings and took over.

  She didn’t have to see his face to know he was waging his own private war with the part of his body betraying him. Having his hot naked skin blanketing her backside, she could feel every muscle tighten in his stomach and thighs, and hear every grunt he tried to bury in her shoulder as he took excruciating care to subdue his primal instinct.

  “Æsa, please…” he begged heatedly. “Be still.”

  She smiled, feeling one strong hand grip the width of her pelvis so as to restrict her movements, while his other open-fisted hand slammed against the nearest wall, bracing himself.

  She ignored his request.

  Gustaf flinched at the sudden shift of her body, probably cursing himself for not being able to stop a mere woman’s movements. She looked over her shoulder again and saw him look down at the union of their bodies, her soft alluring slit consuming his erection. But immediately, he shut his eyes to the glorious sight. Seeing his manhood disappear beneath the methodic sway of her hips, to and fro, made his struggle much harder.

  “Æsa…” he begged again.

  She erected herself until her back was rejoined with the warmth of his chest, and reached over top of her shoulder to clutch him around his neck. She drew his head closer to her nape, inviting him to take hold.

  Unable to keep from touching her, his left hand snaked across her stomach and his other slid aggressively up and around her delicate neck. He opened his mouth, respiring a great amount of pent-up energy, and lightly bit her. “I cannot please you if you continue. I beg you—stop.”