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Never could she have imagined the pleasure of his fingers parting the petals of her womanhood. The heady thrill of the trust he engendered. The keen anticipation of his touch.

But when he lowered his mouth to her, her delight turned to disbelief. Surely he couldn’t mean to…

She gasped and recoiled as his tongue contacted her most sensitive spot. Yet it wasn’t a recoil of pain, only surprise. And a sizzling current so powerful it frightened her.

“Ye like that?” he murmured.

She couldn’t look at him, so she gave him a nod.

“Do ye want more?”

She nodded again, wondering if she could endure such torment.

He bathed her with his tongue—leaving sensuous designs on her burning skin, tugging at her swollen flesh—until, lost in a fog of carnal awakening, she writhed senselessly on the bed.

When she thought he could torture her no more, her own body began to sharpen responsively.

It began at the point where his tongue danced upon her.

But it quickly spread its tingling deep within her.

Soon she felt like the vibrating string of a harp, plucked to a pitch that resonated in everything around her.

Louder and louder the vibration rang. Stronger and stronger the waves of sound grew.

And then the music stilled, as if it could ring no higher. From that fever pitch, erotic shudders shook her body as she cried out in delicious release.

The air was filled with her gasps for a long while afterward as he gently returned her body to her. Then he lifted her legs and laid her back onto the bed.

She was struck with wonder. Never had she felt such ecstasy. Such victory. Such accomplishment.

“Ye’re so beautiful,” he breathed, staring down at her.

She felt beautiful. And relaxed. And cherished.

Now she understood about carnal longing. Once tasted, dalliance like this would be hard to resist. It was difficult even now to think about never feeling this way again. Yet she still hadn’t enjoyed the full measure of lovemaking.

She wanted to. Needed to. If she intended to be a chaste nun the rest of her life, she wanted to just once experience what it was she was sacrificing.

Of course, she couldn’t let him know she was a nun. She’d have to pretend she was a worldly woman who knew what she was doing.

Before she could lose her courage, she looked up at him and whispered, “Will ye couple with me now?”

Adam was prepared to walk away. Even now. While every vein in his body was on fire. His ballocks ached with eagerness. And his cock throbbed in demand.

Adam was a Rivenloch, after all. And Rivenlochs were models of chivalry.

But her whispered entreaty utterly destroyed his willpower.

She wanted this. She wanted him. He’d be a fool to turn her down.

“Please?” she added.

“If ye wish.”

He climbed up on the bed beside her. Then he rose on one elbow to study her exquisite form.

Her beauty was astonishing. Why she’d been able to fool the monks into thinking she was a bearded old pilgrim, he couldn’t imagine.

Every supple curve and pliant plane of her body was smooth and shapely, made to tempt a man.

“Ye know, lass, ye’re as temptin’ as Eve,” he told her.

Why that made her start, he didn’t know. But her eyes widened for a panicked instant before she gave him a shy smile and replied, “I doubt Eve had a ‘map’ on her chest.”

He doubted Eve had a navel either, but he wasn’t about to get into a theological discussion with the woman. He grinned down at her adorable three moles, touching each one in turn with a fingertip.

She reached up, threading her fingers through his wet hair and pulling him toward her.

He obliged her, pressing a tender kiss upon her lips.

Her return kiss was not so tender. She was a fiery lass. She flaunted her passion like a banner. But he had always respected a woman who knew her own desires, who didn’t play coy about them.

She feasted on his lips, as if he was her last meal. Her hot breath rasped across his cheek, and she made small moans of pleasure that summoned the ancient beast inside of him.

Continuing to kiss her, he rose above her on his elbows, cradling her head between his arms. Then, using one leg to nudge her thighs apart, he lowered himself until they were chest to chest, hip to hip, skin to skin.

She released a shaky sigh into his mouth.

He held his breath, wondering if he might spend himself before they even had the chance to couple.

Swiftly slipping his hand between them, he stroked her wet folds to smooth the passage. Then, positioning himself carefully, he eased forward bit by bit.

Impatient with his caution, she surged up beneath him, impaling herself. She gasped, and for an instant he wondered if he’d hurt her.

Then she began to move beneath him. Lunging up and falling back in an instinctive rhythm. Surrounding him in a warm, wet chrysalis that would soon change him from an engorged caterpillar into a glorious butterfly.

It had been months since Adam had swived a woman. He wouldn’t last long. But by her ragged breathing, neither would she.

Like a stream with banks swollen by a sudden summer storm, a flood of lust rushed through him that he could hardly contain.

Soon her breath caught, and she began to buck in the throes of climax, arching up as if lightning had struck her. He followed at her heels, and it took every ounce of effort to pull out of her to spill his seed harmlessly across her belly.

With a groan of satisfaction, he fell back, spent. For a while, the sawing of their mingled breath was the only sound in the chamber aside from the occasional pop of the fire. He reached out a hand to clasp hers, and it seemed they floated together on a cloud of contentment.

He could have stayed there forever.

Eventually he remembered courtesy.

Gently unclasping her hand, he murmured, “I’ll bring a wet cloth.”

“Mmm.”

When he returned to clean up the mess, she was asleep.

He smiled. Lying there, she looked fresh and young and innocent. Her dark hair spilled haplessly across the linens. Her cheeks were rosy as apples. Her lips were cherubic. Her faint sprinkle of freckles seemed like a dusting of happy stars. She was so perfect, she could have been a saint.

But he knew better now.

Despite appearances, Aillenn was full of life and fire and spirit. A woman of depth and passion. A woman who craved adventure. Who followed her instincts and her heart.

A woman as free and impulsive as he was.

How he’d ever imagined she might be a nun, he couldn’t fathom.

How Aillenn had drifted off, she didn’t know. She expected the violent explosion of their coupling would keep her awake and alert for hours. But somehow she woke up, tucked under the coverlet, to the sound of Adam snoring beside her in the dark.

As promised, he’d swabbed the mess from her belly.

It had been thoughtful of him to guard against impregnating her.

She’d been so distracted by carnal longing that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.

Of course, that was exactly what the abbess had warned the sisters about.

Eve was lucky Adam was responsible. Without his precaution, she might have ended up in a horrible predicament.

All in all, however, she was highly pleased with what had happened.

Coupling with Adam had been divine. They were Adam and Eve indeed. She felt as if she’d glimpsed Eden. Captured lightning. Grasped the stars. Looked upon the face of God.

It made sense, of course. Creating new life was a miracle. It was only logical that God would make the act that created that new life miraculous as well.

She snuggled closer to the warm, naked, beautiful man who had taken her to heaven.

This was God’s will, she decided. The Lord was showing her the way.