Medieval 01 - Untamed

The creamy, naked line of her spine called out to be traced down and down to the hot feminine core only he had ever touched.
    â€œYou tempt me unmercifully,” Dominic said in a thick voice.
    â€œHow so?” Meg asked.
    The husky rasp of her voice was like a cat’s tongue. He shuddered once, heavily, fighting for the self-control that was being driven farther away with each hammer blow of his heart.
    â€œYou make me want to bury myself in you here and now,” he said almost harshly.
    â€œ Yes .” Meg’s nails dug into Dominic’s arm as passion shook her. “Yes, my warrior. Take me here and now! I can’t bear any more. I feel empty.”
    Without warning, Dominic lifted Meg in one arm and pulled off her clothes with the other, moving so swiftly that golden bells shivered and rang.
    It was many steps to the bed. It was only two to the darning table.
    An impatient movement of Dominic’s arm cleared the table of colorful yarn and baskets. He sat Meg on top of the table and went to work on his own clothes. The combination of surprise and sensuality he saw in her face made him want to laugh and groan with the fierce prodding of his own passion.
    â€œThe table?” she managed huskily.
    â€œIt’s closer than the bed.”
    Meg said no more, for the quick motions of Dominic’s hands had opened his clothes enough to release his aroused flesh from confinement. The bold thrusting of his body fascinated her.
    â€œMay I…touch you?” she whispered.
    â€œI shall die if you don’t.”
    Dominic’s voice became a low groan at the gentle, fiery brush of Meg’s fingertips.
    â€œSo hard,” she whispered, circling the base of his rigid flesh. Slowly her fingers caressed his length to the blunt tip. “Yet so smooth. Especially here. You shame the finest silk.”
    â€œGod give me strength,” Dominic said through clenched teeth.
    A bolt of pleasure lanced through him, shaking him. For the space of a heartbeat, he balanced on the breaking edge of a sensual storm. Sweat gilded his body as he brought his savage need under control with a long, shattered breath.
    His hunger barely restrained, Dominic captured Meg’s hand and bit her palm.
    â€œDid I touch you the wrong way?” she asked.
    â€œNay. You touched me all too well. I nearly spilled myself into your hand.”
    The surprise in Meg’s eyes was quickly replaced by curiosity. She looked down at him in sensuous speculation. Then her breath came in with a soft, ripping sound as Dominic wrapped his hands around her knees and slowly drew them apart.
    â€œShift your legs, sweet witch. Let me stand close.”
    Meg tried to answer, but couldn’t. The controlled strength of the hands opening her had stolen her voice. The silver blaze of Dominic’s eyes as he looked at her nakedness made her tremble.
    She should have felt frightened, defenseless. Instead she felt oddly powerful, intensely desired. At this moment she was certain that nothing existed in Dominic’s thoughts but his hunger for his wife.
    Then he was standing between her thighs, testing her with a smooth motion of his hand. The gliding penetration of his finger sent lightning racing through her body. A sensual rain soon followed.
    Meg’s voice broke over Dominic’s name when he redoubled and repeated the caress. Her soft cries charted the progress of his touches. When he plucked the sultry jewel of her passion, she tilted back her head and surrendered herself to the sensations consuming her.
    â€œYes,” Dominic said, watching Meg with eyes that burned. “This is how I want you, hot and sleek and crying for me.”
    â€œI can’t—bear—any more.”
    He laughed low in his throat and shuddered as her passionate response licked over the blunt tip of the sword that was even now pressing into her sheath.
    â€œNor can I,” he said thickly. “Wrap your legs around my waist and pull me close. Yes, like that.”
    Dominic’s hands slipped beneath Meg’s hips. “Take me now, witch. Take me hard and deep .”
    Meg’s answer was a ragged cry as Dominic thrust smoothly into her, sheathing himself to the hilt. For the space of a breath she thought she would be torn apart. He tried to retreat, but could not force himself to give up one bit of the taut, sultry depths that held him more closely than his own skin.
    â€œIs it too much?” he asked