Mists of Velvet

at her desperately. “Don’t take me away from you.”
    She smiled. “Then say I can touch you here.”
    She reached for his cock and let her fingers glide over the glistening head. His moan was her answer. She touched him again, this time squeezing the wet tip, then running her fingers up and down the thick shaft.
    “Yes,” he growled, his hands fisting and his arms straining against the bonds. “Touch me.”
    She did, with two hands, working her way up and down and watching as he thickened even more. How would she ever accept him into her body?
    “Rowan,” he said, his voice dark, beautiful in its huskiness. “Taste me.”
    She glanced down, wondering. “I don’t know how. I’ve never done it.”
    “Just explore. Take what you want. Do what you want. Just let me feel your mouth around me.”
    Lowering her head, she licked his tip. He strained, and she heard the tearing of the satin. She lapped, nipping at him, and he growled, his whole body tense—dominant.
    “My whole cock. Suck it.”
    His hands broke free of the bindings, and he gripped his cock, holding it out to her. With his other hand, he cupped the back of her head and moved her forward so that he was brushing his cock against her lips.
    “Claim me as yours.”
    Something in his voice, his words, broke through her fears, and she sucked him in deep, roving her tongue along him as he thrust up into her mouth. His hand fisted in her hair, and his other hand claimed her breast, which swayed as she rocked over him.
    He was breathing hard, his hips thrusting; then he stopped and pulled out. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
    “Why?”
    “Too rough,” he growled.
    “No, it wasn’t, and I wasn’t afraid.”
    “Gentle and tender. That is how I need to be with you.”
    “No!”
    She slapped at his shoulder, and he froze. “No? You no longer want me?”
    “No. I want you. The real you. Not someone you think you have to be.”
    His eyes became hooded. “You wouldn’t like it.”
    “I want you .”
    His eyes flashed silver, and then he lifted her up and lowered her to the bed until he was above her, his hands twining with hers, the white tails of the satin strips winding between their clasped hands, holding—binding—them together.
    She was breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling as they brushed against his. Her sex was pulsing, wanting more. She felt his cock nudging between her thighs, searching for her heat, pressing between her swollen, slick folds.
    “Look at me, beannaithe leannan ,” he whispered.
    She did, and when their gazes locked, he clutched her fingers and brought his mouth down next to hers. “ Beannaithe leannan means sacred lover.” He pulled away, catching her expression of wonder at the beautiful endearment. “Because you are. That is what you mean to me.”
    Slowly he entered her. She stiffened, and she felt the calming pressure of his fingers against hers, the brush of satin against her wrists.
    “It’s me loving you,” he whispered. “My body in yours.”
    She nodded while she focused on his eyes and the feel of him moving lazily inside her. He was big, and he engulfed her.
    “Can you feel me?”
    He pushed against her, filling her, and she squeezed his hand. “Yes,” she said, sighing, “and it’s good.” Oh, so good.
    Keir kissed her cheek, letting his lips brush her skin as he kissed her ear. “Let me make love to you.”
    “Yes.”
    Moving so that he was directly on top of her, Keir blocked out the candlelight with his shoulders. He was all she could see now. He was above her, surrounding her. And he felt large and commanding as he thrust once, then twice deeply inside her.
    Rowan let her body relax. She absorbed him, the feel of him. Her hips rose with his, and soon her hand was in his hair and she was whispering his name.
    “Keir,” she whispered as she rose one final time.
    “I’m here,” he answered. “I love you, Rowan. I’ll always love you. Mo bandia, mo aingeal, mo beannaithe leannan .”
    The world stopped, and all she heard were his words and the sound of his body loving hers. My goddess, my angel, my sacred lover . . . Rowan closed her eyes on the sensation of his love. She could feel it surrounding her, pushing into her, just as his body was pushing inside hers. And she opened to him, letting him in in a way that no other man had ever been allowed.
    He kissed her, touched her, whispered into her ear as he filled her full. And when she was begging and