The Chief Read online

  He moved over her, straddling her with his knees so he could roam freely up and down. He started at her mouth, brushing his lips over hers as he trailed a path down across her jaw to her ear, flicking his tongue along the way. He kissed her neck, burying his face in the silky-softness of her still damp hair, the thick, dark tresses rich with lavender.

  She squirmed under him and he ached to press his hot skin on hers, to feel the exquisite shock of contact. Not yet. Like a penitent, he tortured himself. He was going to take this slowly and savor every minute of it.

  He continued his study, examining every inch of baby-soft skin with his mouth and tongue—her throat, her arms, the pulse at her wrist…her incredible breasts.

  He lingered there for a while. Licking and sucking her deep into his mouth, rolling the taut tip between this teeth and tongue until she arched her back and cried out in desperation.

  He left her wanting, sliding his mouth down the soft plane of her stomach, to her hips, and down the insides of her legs. Her scent drove him mad, rousing every primal instinct in him.

  She was shaking with something she didn’t even know she wanted. But he would show her.

  His cock grew even bigger.

  He eased her legs apart with his kisses, wrapping them around his shoulders. His face was only inches away.

  He heard the sharp hitch of her breath when she realized what he intended. Instinctively, she tried to close her legs, but she succeeded only in bringing him closer.

  He drew circles with his tongue on her inner thigh until her body relaxed again. Then he nuzzled, teased, and blew his breath over her dampness until she trembled.

  Enough self-flagellation. He couldn’t wait any longer. “Look at me, Tina,” he ordered, forcing her gaze to his. “I want you to watch me as I taste you.”

  She made an anxious sound, well past the point of protest. Her body was trembling for him. Holding her gaze, he swept her with his tongue—the lightest, most feathery touch. She bucked at the contact, but he cupped her bottom and held her firm. “You taste so good, my sweet.” He licked her again. Harder this time, letting her feel the full stroke of his tongue. “Like the most delectable cream. And I’m going to lap you all up.”

  —

  Christina felt as though she’d died and gone to wanton heaven. He’d driven her half crazed with his kisses on her body, but when she’d looked down to see his golden head between her legs and realized what he intended…

  Her pulse had leapt with erotic anticipation—with wonder that he would want to kiss her in the most intimate of places. Every muscle froze. Waiting. Sensing that she was about to experience something new and wonderful.

  She had no idea.

  The jolt of pleasure at the first sweep of his tongue made her jump. The second made her shudder.

  Oh God.

  She cried out his name over and over, unable to contain the force of the powerful sensations wrought by his wicked kiss.

  He licked her again, stroking her with his tongue. Circling, delving inside with long, loving strokes until she thought she would die from pleasure.

  It was incredible. All she could think about was his mouth and tongue, and the sensuous thing he was doing to her.

  The pulse between her legs quickened. She moved her hips against his mouth, wanting more pressure, more friction.

  And he gave it to her. He lifted her to him and pressed his wickedly talented mouth more fully against her. She could feel the abrasive scratch of his jaw as he feasted on her with his ravenous kiss and tongue. It was too much.

  The spasms took hold, and she started to break apart in white-hot shards of blistering ecstasy. But he didn’t let her go, holding her to him, taking her pleasure deep into his mouth.

  Her body was still rippling when he released her. He held her half-lidded gaze to his as he moved over her, cradled her against him, and slowly pushed into her, her still sensitive flesh achingly aware of every thick inch.

  When he was fully inside her, he didn’t move, but just held her to him—more tenderly then he’d ever done before—tucking her into the broad shield of his chest as if just the contact was enough.

  It was.

  She melted against him, savoring the sensation of all those hard muscles surrounding her and of his fullness inside her.

  And of his heart beating against hers.

  Emotion tightened her chest. It was the most poignant moment of her life. She hadn’t known she could ever feel this close to anyone.

  They stayed like that for a long time, staring into each other’s eyes, silent except for the heavy pounding of their hearts beating together.

  Then he began to move. Slowly. Not letting go of her gaze, holding her with an intensity that made her heart tug hard against her ribs.

  He thrust with long, languid strokes. As if they had all the time in the world. As if they were the world. He sank in and out, holding himself at the deepest point and startling a gasp from her lips when he pushed even deeper.

  Slowly, he began to quicken the pace. Thrusting a little harder. Sinking a little deeper. Skin to skin, their bodies slid together in perfect rhythm.

  She felt the sensations building again. Different this time. Not so frantic, but more intense and powerful, claiming not just the place between her legs, but her entire being.

  She could see his face tighten. His jaw clench. The muscles in his shoulders bunch. His skin was hot; a band of sweat had gathered on his brow.

  Their bodies rocked. He circled his hips, pumping faster. Grinding against her until her breath quickened. Until her heart raced. Until the pulse between her legs grew frantic and tight.

  Still he held her gaze, his crystal-clear blue eyes fierce with an emotion she’d never seen before. Not lust, but something deeper—more meaningful. She dared not hope.

  “Come with me, Tina,” he said savagely.

  God, she was. Her breath hitched, her back arched, and she started to break apart. Not in a violent explosion, but in a slow shattering that started from deep inside and radiated out in a shimmering wave of sensation.

  And he came along with her, riding the wave of her climax with his own.

  At that moment her dreams seemed so close, she could almost reach out and grab them.

  —

  Long after the last ebb of their climax had faded, Tor lay in bed, Christina sleeping soundly against him. He was having trouble putting what had just happened in the proper perspective.

  Intense. That didn’t even begin to describe it. Cataclysmic. Earth-shattering. Those came closer.

  He didn’t realize mating could be like that.

  His chest burned with tenderness for the tiny lass curled up against him like a bairn. After the deaths of his parents and the long intervening years of constant war and death, he thought himself impervious to these kinds of feelings. His control and lack of emotion were what made him excel as a chief and a warrior. But he felt the layers of ice melting under the warmth of her…love.

  His brother was right: She loved him. He could see it in her eyes. Feel it in her touch. Taste it in her kiss.

  And he could not deny that he felt a special tenderness for the lass, which troubled him. Could he care about her and still put his clan first? He’d never thought so before. Feelings only complicated—weakened—and that was something no chief or warrior could risk. He’d had a taste of it when MacDougall had confronted them, and when he’d seen her in the village. No matter what happened, he knew he could not allow his weakness for his wife to interfere with his duty.

  She made a soft, contented sound in her sleep. He sighed, pressing his cheek against her warm, silky hair and inhaling her sweet, feminine scent. Contentment washed over his exhausted limbs. She was so small and soft. Delicate and easily hurt. Not hurting her was going to be a challenge, but he vowed to do his best to make her happy.

  Christina leaned back against Tor’s chest, the leather folio resting on her naked stomach and the rumpled bed linen twisted around her legs. Bright