Page 18

The rasp of her skirts against his trousers filled the room.

Hesitant, Adara laid her palms on his chest. She did not think she would get used to the feel of the slabs of muscle there.

A groan escaped him as she parted her lips.

They moved in sync, Grahame angling his face when needed, his fingers wandering to her hair, tangling in the loose tresses.

A nip at her bottom lip had her sighing, had her opening her mouth to his probing tongue.

Adara felt as if she was heating from the inside out as it swept inside, tasting of pheasant and wine. He was melting her.

“However you wish, we will give them what they need,” Grahame murmured against her mouth, his hand tightening in the hair of her nape. The other skimmed down her throat, settling on the swell of her breast. Her nipples pebbled.

“Tell me how you would like me to proceed,” he said around the kiss. “Lead the way, Adara.”

Never in her life had she been asked what she wanted by a man. The sentiment nearly knocked her to the ground.

Grahame’s hand dipped lower, the tips of his fingers skimming the neckline of her dress. Her skin began to sparkle beneath his touch.

Before those fingers dipped beneath the material, however, Grahame broke their kiss to say, “Is this alright?”

His other hand untangled from her hair to glide down her back, pressing her closer, as if he did not want her to slip away. Adara allowed herself to be plastered to him, every hard line of his body pressed each soft curve of hers. An ache bloomed in her neither-region.

“That’s good,” she said, drawing in a ragged breath.

If there was triumph in his gaze, she did not see it, for she pulled him down for another kiss.

Thorough and languid, Grahame’s mouth met hers.

As if she was water after he’d gone without for days.

When Grahame’s hard ridge rubbed her belly, greed struck her, hot and insistent.

She wished to see him, to feel him move against her.

It nearly sobered her, for her past physical requirements in the bedchamber had never elicited such an urge.

“God, your lips…” His words died as he broke away to kiss a trail down the side of her neck.

Adara couldn’t control the shiver that rolled through her.

The sensations he evoked in her skin made her tip her head back for more.

Grahame’s hand at her back pulled her closer while his hips gave a little thrust upward.

Need, perilous, reckless need pounded through her.

They deserved this. After the agony of their separation and the ensuing years of torment. Elation made Adara bold. Little breaths escaped her as her other hand travelled to his belt.

“How is this?” he asked as the backs of her knees met with the mattress.

She hadn’t even noticed him backing her to the bed, so lost she was in his handling.

Adara’s searching hand brushed the bulge prodding her middle.

A deep groan sprung from Grahame. The sound caused the juncture between her thighs to become a puddle.

She would do almost anything to hear that sound again.

Then fingers were plucking at the ties of her bodice, searching, loosening.

Adara bit her lip against the feel of his mouth exploring the base of her neck.

She couldn’t help but sink her hand into his hair to hold him to her.

“’Dara, you’re leading the way. You’ve got to tell me what’s alright or not,” he said into the skin at the base of her throat.

Adara was panting, nearly delirious when his hand worked its way past her neckline to score her nipple. “It’s alright. You’re fine,” she murmured.

“Just fine?” Grahame asked, rearing back. He arched a sandy brow, his hair sticking out around his head where she’d run her fingers through. Dishevelled, he was the most delectable thing she’d ever seen.

He brushed his thumb over her nipple once, twice. A shiver coursed through her.

“Undo the belt. I can’t get it off myself,” she said. Her voice sounded like smoke.

Grahame thumbed her nipple again, as if resistant to let her go.

He withdrew his hands only to grab a handful of both breasts before unbuckling the clasp at his waist. The sound of metal on the floor snapped through the otherwise quiet room.

Remembering the others watching, she ducked her head again, her cheeks on fire.

Grahame would not abide by her shame. He grinned, dimples flashing, and dipped close to whisper in her ear, “I bet they’re hard as stone watching us. Hard for something they can never have. As I have been, most of my life.”

She dared not look over at Hagan and Thor. All she could do was take in Grahame as he reached behind himself to drag his tunic overhead.

All moisture left her mouth as the material left his body.

He was…too much. Lean and golden, with muscles that popped and rippled in the firelight.

A dusting of light brown hair trailed from his navel into his trousers which did nothing to hide his reaction to her.

He smirked as he threw the tunic to the floor and placed his hands on his hips.

“See something you like?”

Adara felt her mouth drop open. She stepped back, falling gracelessly to the bed.

It did nothing to dampen the hungry gleam in Grahame’s eye.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Adara felt as if her heart would wrestle its way through her ribs.

This tousled, perfect man was too handsome to be bedding her.

And yet, she was not one to waste an opportunity.

“Come here,” she said, scooting back to give him room.

Grahame’s eyes ate her up before he acquiesced to her demand. When he did kneel on the bed, he wedged one thigh between hers then slid along her body slowly, as if to memorize the feel of her. Adara lay back, welcoming the lithe weight.

Careful of her splayed hair, he braced his elbows on either side of her head as his nose scored along hers, though something in his gaze turned serious. With his hips pressing down on her, he dipped his mouth to her ear and said the words that made Adara’s thawing heart freeze again.

“Let’s give them the show they need.”