The Outlaw's Heart

by Amy Sandas

  “No,” she asserted quickly, her hold firm around his waist. “The man I married was never a husband to me. He broke his vows long ago and deserves nothing from me. I belong to me.”

  She was surprised by how confident her words sounded. Every one of them rang with truth. She was bound to Matthew by a paper document, but she was not and had never been his wife. Her existence had been as a possession—an object to manipulate and torment—never as wife. She owed nothing to a man who had given her only pain and degradation.

  “I belong to me, Gabriel,” she repeated, accepting the truth of the statement, feeling it down to her marrow. “And if I decide to share myself with you it is because I want to.”

  His expression barely changed as he swept his gaze over her face before staring into her eyes so intently she felt certain he could see to the bottom of her soul—past the indignities and pain she’d suffered, past the uncertainties and her desire to please, past the determination to be strong and brave. He saw through it all to the core of her, where she was just a woman wanting to be desired by a worthy, noble, honorable man.

  His lips parted, and he released a slow, raw breath. A tingle of anticipation danced along Eve’s spine.

  Lifting her hand, she gingerly touched two fingers to his mouth. She’d been wanting to explore the sensual fullness of his lips, to know what they might feel like pressed to hers. Warm. Generous.

  His breath was heavy and deep as it slid from his lips to bathe her fingers. Feeling bold, she smoothed the pad of her middle finger across the surface of his lower lip, the velvet texture sending shocks of pleasure through her belly. Pleasure that expanded to the peaks of her breasts and down between her thighs as his arms tightened around her.

  A low growl rumbled in his chest as he bowed his head toward hers.

  And then it was easy. All she had to do was rise up on her toes and lift her mouth to his.

  The first contact of his lips was like lightning cutting through the black of night. Silent, bright, and almost frightening in his intensity. Every nerve came alive; every inch of her skin felt charged with sensation.

  A guttural sound vibrated in his throat as he deepened the kiss. With a subtle tilt of his head, he fit his mouth more fully over hers, closing off her breath, sealing her quiet moan between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She needed to be closer. Desire swept like an undeniable force through her. Rather than scaring her, his crushing embrace made her feel powerful. In her need, she was equal to him in a way that went beyond the disparities of their physical strength.

  It was a kiss unlike anything she’d know was possible. It was fire and light and pure hunger. But even in its ferocity, there was gentleness that came from the man himself. The way he could hold her so tight in his arms, yet not hurt her. He claimed her mouth with a passion and intensity that felt more reverent than possessive, giving rather than taking.

  It stunned her. It enflamed and awakened her.

  On instinct, she parted her lips beneath his to sweep the tip of her tongue across the seam of his lips.

  The sound he made in response urged her to do it again.

  The deeper intimacy felt natural and right. She darted her tongue forward once again, and this time, his was there to meet it. The velvety texture of his tongue, the heat, the decadent taste of him… She couldn’t get enough.

  The need coursing through her was terrifying and new. The way her body yearned for his was overwhelming, but so perfect it tightened her chest. Despite her wary anticipation, she wanted to open herself to him, take him into her until the hollowness inside her was filled.

  With a low groan, he shifted his mouth from hers and dipped his head to press a hot kiss to the side of her throat. His lips moved gently over her skin to the crest of her shoulder as he held her in a tight embrace.

  It took a moment for the haze to clear from her mind before she could look up at him.

  While she felt on the verge of flying off in a million pieces, he appeared to remain fiercely in control despite the fire burning deep in his eyes.

  His arms tightened briefly around her before he released her. “Turn around,” he urged gently, his voice rough and unsteady.

  On shaky legs, she did as he said.

  He gathered the length of her hair in his hands and urged her down into the water. She tipped her head back to dunk her hair and gazed at his broad form framed by the blue summer sky. When she rose again, he lathered soap into her wet tresses. The competent working of his fingers through her hair and against her scalp was calming and invigorating at the same time. Her limbs grew soft and heavy, her spine curved in relaxation, and her eyes drifted closed. But inside, her nerves felt more alive than ever, her blood flowed swiftly, pulsing with life and increasing desire.

  After rinsing the soap from her hair, he assisted her in removing her undergarments and tossing them up onto the grassy shore. Then he swept her hair over her shoulder, exposing her bare back to his attentive view.

  His touch was gentle and intentional across the marks of violence that crossed the length of her back and hips. He ran the flat of his thumb in a soothing stroke along the crest of one scar and then trailed his fingertips along another. From her nape to the upper curves of her buttocks, he caressed each and every inch of the pain and indignity Matthew had inflicted.

  His touch transformed the scars into something that—although they would always be a part of her—would never again define her. The path of his caress left pleasure rather than pain in its wake. It made her feel beautiful and brave and all the things he saw in her.

  She felt it not just on the surface of her skin, but in her soul where his tender regard brought a thickness to her throat.

  Once he was confident he wouldn’t hurt her, he smoothed the soap down the full length of her back, then gently pressed his thumbs into the muscles along her spine and kneaded the flare of her hips and upper buttocks.

  His touch was steady and reverent—confident in its ability to soothe rather than hurt. His strength was tempered by his compassion. His only intention was to bring her pleasure.

  Still standing behind her, he slowly swept his hands over her low belly. She sighed at the sensation and allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder. His breath flowed in a steady rhythm against the side of her neck as he eased his hands up along her lower rib cage. She wished he’d press his mouth to her skin, there below her ear where his breath tickled so delightfully. But he remained focused on his task.

  Until he reached her breasts.

  As his hands slipped over the soft mounds, weighted and sensitive with desire, a velvety groan issued from his throat, and he dipped his head alongside hers. Her nipples pebbled against his palms as she arched into his hands. He answered her silent plea with a firm squeeze followed by a circling caress that teased the peaks and made her moan. Turning her head, she sought his mouth.

  But he drew back from her and scooped handfuls of water to rinse the soap from her body in a breath-stealing shock of cold.

  Then he palmed the soap in his hand and crouched down in the water to wash the lengths of her legs. His long fingers circled around her ankles and knees and massaged her thighs. And though she held her breath in near-fearful anticipation, he did not venture between her legs.

  By the end of it all, she was shaken and breathless and half-mindless from everything swirling through her. It was then that he took her hand and led her to the grassy bank of the river. The morning sun had risen higher and warmed the earth, but the breeze that moved through the trees and over the tall grass still chilled her skin.

  Releasing her hand, he crouched to swipe up her underclothes in his hands. After wringing the water from them, he spread them out in the sun to dry.

  Eve watched his movements with a hungry gaze, loving the way he moved. His body, so large and powerful, contained so much grace and beauty. Observing his self-assurance an
d lack of shame, she felt free to shed her modesty as well. Closing her eyes, she tipped her face to the sky and breathed deeply and fully. When she opened her eyes again, it was to see Gabriel standing in front of her, watching her with a calm, heated focus.

  An intimate thrill coursed through her.

  Saying nothing, he stepped forward and offered his hand. As she slipped her palm against his, more lightning sparked through her, but it was less impatient now, more…certain.

  He led her to where she’d laid out her dress and gestured for her to sit on the spread skirts.

  The grass was lush and soft beneath her as she sat with her legs bent in front of her chest and her arms loosely wrapped around them. Gabriel knelt behind her and diligently worked his fingers through the length of her hair.

  With desire still dancing inside her, she allowed the moment to lengthen, soaking up his attentive care. She had declared herself and exposed herself to him. And he had accepted her, offering himself in return. It was unprecedented, and for now, at least, she was content to wait for what would come next.

  Thirty-One

  His body thrummed with life, deep within his core where the most base and natural needs originated.

  He wanted this woman. He needed her like he needed the warmth of the sun on his back, the caress of fresh mountain air on his face, the feel of the earth beneath his feet. She had been created for him. And he for her.

  But he could not rush this.

  He’d noticed a layer of innocence in her kiss. Despite her obvious desire for him, she reacted more with instinct than experience. Her reactions to his kiss—to his touch—had been those of an awakening and discovery.

  Anger coursed through him as he considered what that meant.

  She had been married. To a man who had marred her beautiful skin and damaged her spirit. Had her husband never shown her tenderness in the marriage bed? Had he bothered to give her pleasure, or had she only experienced pain and punishment at his hands?

  Gently working his fingers through her pale-gold hair, he could see the fading bruises and healing wounds that crisscrossed her narrow back beneath the silken tresses. Given enough time, her skin would rejuvenate and the scars would fade. But the harm done to a woman’s soul was more difficult to heal. She deserved to feel safe. She deserved to be loved in all the ways a woman could be.

  And she’d chosen him.

  “Gabriel?” His name was warm and languid on her lips. “Will you make love to me?”

  Every muscle in his body tensed. His hands fisted involuntarily in her hair, likely tugging at her scalp before he forced his fingers to relax. His erection throbbed painfully, craving the encompassing heat of her body.

  He could barely choke out a response, his throat raw in the fresh morning. “I would like to, if that is your desire as well.”

  “It is.”

  Lust and longing flowed thickly through his blood. His body thrummed with need. His hands shook as he resisted the urge to stake his claim.

  She’d chosen him, but he had to be sure there was no uncertainty between them. He’d seen it flicker in her gaze so many times in the past. When he claimed her, he did not want anything holding her back from the pleasure he ached to give her. No fear, no hesitation.

  Gabriel spread her hair over her back like a veil to dry better in the sun, then pressed his hands flat to the surface of his thighs. “It would destroy me to cause you any further pain or fear.”

  She sat quietly for a moment, then turned her head to look back over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were clear and deep, like a crystal lake. “You could never hurt me, Gabriel. I know that. I trust you with everything I am.”

  The resistance within him shattered and fell away as he soaked in the truth of her words. His body warmed, and the stone-hard muscles of his thighs released beneath his hands. The certainty and strength in her eyes left no room for doubt. He would do everything in his power to ensure her trust was not misplaced.

  Her voice dropped to a sultry sigh. “Kiss me.”

  With no hesitation, he leaned forward.

  At the same time, she rolled to one hip and placed her hand on the ground to brace herself as she partially turned to face him. So easily, their mouths met, and Gabriel was unable to keep from touching her. Lifting one hand to the side of her face, he slid his fingers into her hair as he rested his thumb under her chin. He craved greater contact. His body strained against the desire to haul her fully into his arms, but he forced himself to be patient, allowing her to lead the way.

  Her eyes had drifted closed at the first touch of his lips. Her mouth was soft and warm beneath his. Pliant and vulnerable. He took care with that kiss. Pressing his mouth sweetly to hers before lightening the pressure just enough to caress her lips with delicate friction.

  Her sigh was a soothing balm to his swiftly rising need.

  Then she leaned toward him, angling her chin in a way that requested deeper contact. He obliged. Pressing his fingertips to the base of her skull, he took her mouth in a more deliberate, passionate kiss. Parting her lips to sweep his tongue inside, letting her taste the lust in every languorous thrust of his tongue.

  She melted. The sound that issued from the back of her throat was one of pure need.

  Reaching around her, he pressed his hand to the small of her back. With gentle but insistent pressure, he pulled her toward him. Her body reacted smoothly to his urging. She rolled up onto her knees to face him. With one hand still holding her head in position to accept the deeper thrust of his tongue, he splayed his hand and drew her forward. He sat back on his heels as her slim legs parted over his and her buttocks came to rest atop his thighs.

  Suddenly realizing the new and intimate position as she sat straddling his thighs—her body open to him, her slight form vulnerable in his arms—she broke from the kiss with a heavy gasp, but she did not pull away. Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders, and her eyes widened. Their gazes met and held as their breath mingled hot and swift between them.

  He did not hide the lust in his gaze. His erection stood proud and thick between them, and his hands were firm on her body. He wanted her to feel his greater size and superior strength. And he wanted her to understand that he would never use that against her. He needed her to know that his body was hers to find comfort in. Security. And pleasure.

  In that moment, he wanted her to accept how much power she had over him.

  Her eyes flickered as she dropped her gaze to where his cock throbbed only a few inches from her core. Her fingers curled into the muscles of his shoulders, and she drew a swift breath that lifted her breasts. A raw and involuntary sound escaped his throat and brought her gaze back to his.

  Looking into her wide eyes, Gabriel withdrew his hand from her hair. He trailed his fingers down the side of her neck and across the delicate crest of her shoulder before he flattened his palm above the swell of her breast where her heart beat fiercely behind her ribs.

  She held her breath. Waiting.

  With infinite patience, he eased his hand lower, curving his palm over the soft mound of her breast before brushing the peak with the flat of his thumb. Her eyelids fluttered and fell over her gaze. A deep sigh slid from her lips.

  Gabriel braced both hands against her back, urging her body into a deep arch that thrust her breasts forward and upward. With another heavy sigh, she dropped her head back, exposing the long line of her throat. The silken fall of her hair teased the tops of his thighs. The flush of desire colored her skin and darkened her hardened nipples to a deep rose.

  Curving his spine, Gabriel bent forward to cover one pebbled peak with his mouth. He suckled deep on her sweet flesh before rolling the tip against his tongue. Her gasps and sighs blended with the sound of the wind through the trees. When he shifted his attention to the other breast, he lowered his hands to grip the lush curves of her buttocks. As he teased her breast with the play o
f lips and tongue, he drew her hips closer until his hard length pressed firmly to her hot, wet center.

  His name was a whisper on her lips as she released her grip on his shoulders to wrap her arms around his head, holding him close. Gabriel devoured her softness and her warmth. He ached to be inside her, to feel her heat surrounding him, but he contented himself with the fervent press of her body. For now.

  Releasing her breast, he trailed his open mouth along her collarbone, flicking his tongue against the pulse at the base of her throat before licking up the length of her neck to her ear. With a growl of need echoing in his chest, he closed his mouth over her earlobe, gently nipping it with his teeth.

  Her body jolted at the sensation, and he worried he might have gone too far with the subtle expression of pain in pleasure. Her hands framed his jaw as she eased his head back until she could look into his eyes.

  The brilliant blue of her gaze, so deep and soulful, went straight to the center of his chest.

  “I choose to share myself with you. Only you,” she murmured before pressing her mouth to his in an open, passionate kiss that touched the darkest recesses of his being, where he’d buried old hurts and longings.

  The craving inside him broke past his last reserves.

  His arms doubled around her hips, and he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. At the same time, he rolled his hips beneath her in a way that caused his hardened flesh to glide hotly against her. He needed to give her just a taste of how fiercely his passion burned, how desperately he hungered for her. How completely he wanted to fill her and take all that she offered.

  Her legs tightened around his hips, and her fingernails scored his scalp as her hands dove back through his hair. When he withdrew his tongue from her mouth, she followed it with hers, darting past his teeth with an urgent insistence for more. The edge of her teeth scraped his lips, and her body pressed tightly to his, as if she wished to crawl into his skin.