Page 81 of Barbarous

“I’m going to do something I’ve been dreaming of doing for a long time,” he said, his attention riveted by what he saw.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You dream about things like this, too?”

He grinned up at her. “You wouldn’t believe the things I dream about, Daphne. But trust me, I’ll show them all to you, in time.” He brushed his lips over the sensitive skin at the top of her thighs, his hot mouth ripping a harsh gasp from her.

“So soft,” he murmured, his hands drifting toward her triangle of blond hair with agonizing slowness.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, his fingers delving into her curls and parting her, caressing her.

Daphne shuddered and bit her lip to keep from crying out as he lightly flicked her core.

“You are so wet for me,” he said in a tone of wonder, stroking her again and again and again, until her hips bucked and twitched with frustration.

“I want you to watch me, Daphne.” He cut her a look with his mismatched eyes—one so green and warm and the other forever unknowable—and then he lowered his mouth.

“Oh my,” she groaned, her vision becoming even blurrier as his tongue danced, flicked, and tormented that most sensitive part of her, circling and circling until she teetered on the brink of madness.

Until he stopped . . . And then commenced the exquisite torture all over again. And again.

Daphne fisted the blankets beside her until her hands ached and she could stand it no longer.

“Hugh!” She sounded like a woman at the end of her tether, but she didn’t care. Instead, she used the last of her strength to thrust her hips hard, her message clear.

His low, satisfied laugh vibrated through her and sent spirals of pleasure to every part of her body. For a moment she feared he would continue his relentless teasing, but then he relaxed his weight on her thighs, lowered his head, and took her into the hot embrace of his mouth.

Daphne gasped, her gaze riveted to the sight of him between her thighs: a sight that was almost as amazing as what he was doing.

The sculpted muscles of his back and shoulders bunched with controlled power as his blond head moved rhythmically, his skilled tongue and fingers working their magic. Daphne gave herself up to pure pleasure and rode the crest of the wave that had been a long time coming. A wave that built and built until it crashed, taking her with it and pummeling her body over and over, until she was weak, breathless, and limp.

“Hugh,” she whispered, her hands slipping from his hair, where they’d somehow become tangled.

He kissed his way back to her breasts, lightly grazing their too sensitive tips before rising to his knees, proof of his arousal jutting from his taut, powerful hips. He looked the very image of some ancient warrior as he towered above her, the scars that marked his glorious body telling a silent tale of battles won and lost.

And when he lifted one hand to push back his damp curls, the muscles that rippled across his chest, shoulders, and arm were enough to make her weep. Daphne knew the proper reaction for a woman who’d just engaged in such a raw activity should be shame—or perhaps entering a convent—but the only thing she felt as she looked up at her beautiful lover was the hunger to have him inside her.

She spread her legs and his lips curved into a smile that was pure sin.

“Good girl,” he said, mischief and lust mingling on his expressive features as he took her thighs in his hands and kneeled between them.

Daphne gave a weak chuckle. “Hugh?” The word was barely a sigh.

“Yes, darling?” he asked as his palms slid beneath her bottom, positioning her.

“I—I want . . .” Daphne had no recollection of what she’d meant to say.

He laughed wickedly. “You want . . . this?” He entered her in one slick, endless thrust, driving her in to the mattress with the force of his action.

Daphne groaned, her head falling back, her eyes closing. It was . . . too much, too intense, too—

And then he began to pound her with merciless, measured thrusts, each invasion deeper than the last.

“Your body is heaven,” he gasped, halting his savage thrusting and instead pushing slowly into her, inch by inch by inch. “Take all of me, darling.”

She wrapped her legs around him, tilted her pelvis, and tightened.

“My God, Daphne!” He shuddered violently enough to shake the four-poster bed, lifting her higher, his fingers digging into her hips while he drove into her, his body taut and slick with the strength of his need.

Daphne slid her hands from his waist to the bunching muscles of his buttocks, splaying her fingers and pulling him deeper. She was already beginning to unravel when the unmistakable signs of his impending climax gripped his big body. He uttered something unintelligible, stiffened, and then froze, buried deep inside her, pulsing into her, filling her. Completing her. Driving her over the edge and into obliterating pleasure once again.