“Ah, the perfect picture of submission. Ye know those Moors insist on their concubines being slaves to their every desire. Will ye stay there, waiting for my touch with yer little pearl pressed against my cock?”

His hands cupped her breasts, the water making it a delightful sensation. His fingers smoothed over her skin, and he lifted his fingers to drip water on the top of her breasts where the skin was still dry. She made a low sound of approval, and he offered her a male one in return.

“Sweet, sweet wife. I am looking forward to the winter.”

She laughed. A single sound but her cheeks brightened once more. She felt pretty. It wasn’t due to flowery words or thoughtful gifts, but the feeling stemmed from the look in his eyes and the way his attention was focused on her breasts. He was still happily toying with her breasts, thumbing her hard nipples and spreading his fingers out around the tender mounds. Soft arousal continued to build inside her, making her more and more aware of the hard flesh pressing against her clitoris. It became an effort to remain still, her hips wanted to twitch and move. She bit her lower lip but lost the battle to remain still.

“Aye, I could nae agree with ye more, lass. A bit of action is called for.”

He moved his hands down to her hips, cupping her curves with his hands and pressing her down onto him harder. He thrust his hips up in soft, tiny motions that moved his cock against her slit.

“Gordon . . .” She was truly breathless now, the motions of his hips rubbing against her clitoris. The pressure from his hold on her hips kept his member against his body and away from the opening to her passage. By thrusting up and holding her steady, his hard flesh worked against her slit, rubbing back and forth. Pleasure spiked up into her. The water splashed against her breasts and nipples while he continued to thrust. She couldn’t maintain her position and reached for him as need began to force a moan past her lips.

“Gordon . . . stop . . . before—”

“Take yer pleasure, Jemma, I want to see ye cry with it.”

There really was no choice. She was powerless to hold it back. Her thighs grasped his hips, making sure that their bodies were even tighter against one another. He thrust faster, and she felt her fingers clawing into his shoulders. The cry he desired broke from her lips as pleasure tore through her. It raced into her, where it became a glowing knot of tension that held for one blinding moment and then broke apart into tongues of white-hot flame touching every part of her. She gasped, and her head lowered onto his shoulder. Her heart was beating too fast, and the hands holding her hips were almost too tight, but they held her steady while she drew in rapid breaths and felt her sanity return.

He cupped her chin and raised it to meet his eyes. They were full of bright need that made the water feel cold.

“I enjoy pleasuring ye, but the next time ye cry out, I am going to be deep inside ye, Jemma.” He leaned forward to press a hard kiss against her mouth, his hands raising her up so that his cock sprang up to position itself for entry into her body.

“Not yet.”

She reached forward and clasped his cock while scooting down to sit on his thighs. The water made it easy to work her hand up and down the thick staff. His face tightened as she moved her hand faster. His cock grew harder, and his hands gripped the sides of the tub until the knuckles turned white.

He suddenly caught her hand, forcing her to stop. “Enough, Jemma. I want to be inside ye.”

His eyes were bright with need, the same hunger that was coiled up inside her belly.

“Not here. We need to go back to the bed.”

She stood up and stepped out of the tub before he realized her intention.

“Come back here, wife. I’ve waited too long to claim ye.” His voice was strained, and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“No. In the bed.” The frustration on his face drew a soft laugh from her.

“It’s not comical, wife. The moment is now.”

Jemma tried to compose herself, but failed. His demands reminded her too much of how need made her feel. She enjoyed knowing that he was just as susceptible to passion for her; in truth she was proud of her ability to push him to that edge. It fortified her confidence and made her bold enough to stand completely nude in front of him. He liked her in such a way, and she enjoyed seeing his enjoyment.

Her husband growled.

“Admit it, Gordon.” She plucked up a length of toweling and wrapped it around her nude body to prod him into following her. Her action drew a fresh round of snarls from her companion.

“With all your boasting of how much riding you do, it is amusing to consider how difficult it has proven for you to . . . gain the saddle . . . in this instant . . .”

She laughed again but backed up when he rose from the tub. His body was magnificent. His chest was thick with muscle that continued down to a lean belly and thighs that were defined with ridges. He reached down and grasped his own cock, his fingers stroking it and drawing her gaze to the swollen flesh.

“Now, lass, it is not only the stallion that wants to cover a mare. The mare leads him on a merry chase to fire up his appetite before allowing him to mount her.” He climbed over the side of the tub and didn’t bother to use the toweling set out for his pleasure. The water streamed down his legs, the candlelight making him glisten.

“Ah . . . the chase . . . well then . . .” She unwrapped the toweling and tossed it aside. Gordon’s face split with a smile. He spread his arms out wide and bent slightly at the knees. The man was ready to lunge at her. The knowledge sent a crazy twist of excitement through her that was rooted deep inside her feminine nature. She turned and ran.

She heard his wet feet slapping against the floor, but they dried too quickly, leaving her no way to gauge how close he was. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she couldn’t control the need to look back over her shoulder.

Gordon’s face was a mask of savage pleasure. He offered her a growl moments before he scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She squealed, but he laughed heartily and spread one large hand over her bare bottom. He turned and covered the space to the bed with quick strides. She bounced in a tangle of limbs when he tossed her onto the sheets. His body rising up over hers looked impossibly hard and demanding. Her teeth bit into her lower lip as nervousness invaded her. He placed a knee on the bed, crawling up to join her.

“Do nae lose yer trust in me now, lass. That would wound me more surely than an arrow.”

He placed one solid knee between her thighs, and she flinched in spite of every bit of confidence he had built in her. His expression tightened, his eyes filling with concern.

“I do have faith in you, Gordon.” Jemma lifted her hands, reaching for him. He lowered his weight, spreading her thighs with gentle motions of his hands before allowing his body to settle on top of hers. A soft murmur of enjoyment crossed her lips. There was something intensely satisfying about having his weight on top of her, something that she had never expected.

“’Tis something I treasure, lass.”

He framed her face in his hands and pressed a kiss against her lips. It began as a slow motion of his mouth against hers, but his passion burned too hot to maintain the slow pace. His kiss became harder, more demanding, and she opened her mouth to allow his tongue to penetrate. Her body ached for the same thing, and her thighs rose up to clasp his hips in invitation.

She felt the head of his cock nudging at the opening to her passage again. Her hands tightened on his shoulders as he began to move forward. It was slow but steady, his hard flesh tunneling into her softer core. Her head arched back as pain began to burn along her passage, hundreds of pinpoints of pain where the skin was refusing to stretch.

“Easy, lass, ye can take me. ’Tis the way ye were made, to take my length.”

His words were soothing, but her body still hurt. His hips pulled back and thrust into her once again. This time his cock split her, burrowing into her in spite of the resistance her body offered him. His flesh was harder and it pressed onward, opening her passage with a slow thrust that sent the breath rushing out of her lungs. He withdrew again, offering her relief from the worst of the pain, and she dragged a deep breath in but it went rushing back out when he thrust smoothly into her again. This time his cock traveled deep, the hard flesh lodging itself all the way inside her. The bed beneath her back kept her in place, making it impossible to move away. She was forced to endure the burning pain while her passage adjusted to being penetrated.

Yet the pain subsided fast. Jemma opened her eyes when she realized that there was naught but a dull ache remaining.

“Aye, lass, that’s the worst of it.” He pulled his length free and then thrust forward again. This time, without the burning pain, she was free to feel his hard member stroking along her clitoris. It produced a spark of delight that traveled to where her passage echoed it when his flesh was once more deep inside her.

“And now, I’ll introduce ye to the best of it.”

He began to thrust in slow motions, but there was still a hard edge to each stroke. Jemma heard herself moan, and she couldn’t have controlled the sound if she had tried. Her body was completely focused on the hard flesh tunneling into it, her passage eagerly taking him now while her hips lifted to ensure that he penetrated deeply each time. There was no reason to think or even keep her eyes open. She wanted to sink back into the pool of sensations produced by the action of their bodies moving together.

“That’s it, lass, work with me, show me the pace ye like.”

“I will . . .”

His breathing was turning rough, and his hands twisted in her hair. His thrusts came faster and harder, shaking the bed beneath them. But she enjoyed the pace, her body eagerly meeting it. Pleasure tightened inside her with each deep penetration from his member, the sliding motion of his withdrawing building a growing desperation to have him impale her again. She lifted her hips up, almost frantically seeking out his next plunge. Her heart raced and she could feel his pounding when he pushed his length deep inside her and their bodies were pressed tightly together for a moment.

The pleasure he’d given her with his mouth paled to the delight boiling inside her now. This was deeper and more intense. Her hips bucked off the bed to take his next thrust quicker, and when he pressed completely inside her it burst, forcing a cry from her lips. She arched, and her thighs grasped his hips while the sensation tore through her, wringing her body and bathing it in satisfaction. Gordon plunged a few final times into her with rough thrusts before he let out a harsh sound and she felt his body pulling taut. Deep inside she felt his seed spurting out to soak into her womb. The hot stream of fluid triggered another soft contraction of pleasure from her body. This time her passage tried to milk his member, tightening around it to pull his seed forward.

The pleasure reduced her to a quivering mass of muscles. She lay on the bed, uncaring if her hands were flung out like a broken doll. She lacked even enough strength to pull them closer to her body. She only had the will to breathe, her chest rising and falling in deep breaths while her heart beat with hard motions beneath her breasts.

A soft kiss was pressed against her lips before Gordon rolled off her. He slid an arm beneath her waist and pulled her against his side. Her head was pushed down onto his chest, and she heard his heart rate matching her own.

“I swear it is going to be the warmest winter ever in this chamber.”

Jemma smiled, but she wasn’t sure if it was due to his words or the soothing strokes his hands were making over her, long passes of his hands over her back and along the curve of her hip. Gentle strokes that were tender, so tender she felt tears stinging her eyes because he certainly didn’t have to be so caring; he was her husband not her lover.

Maybe he could be both . . .

Jemma tried to hush her inner voice. It was a dangerous idea, one that promised her heartache if it did not blossom. But she failed because there was already too much tenderness between them. She could not shut the doors to her feelings; they felt as if they were blocked open.

“Why did ye insist on the bed?”

Gordon sounded sleepy, but his hand froze on her shoulder. “I did nae think to ask ye before. Ye had a reason, yea?”