ow fierce you look, wife. Have I told you how appealing I find you when you scowl at me?”

“ ’Tis not my purpose to be appealing!”

He grinned as he moved closer to the bed, his hand still doing curious things to his swollen shaft. She couldn’t help but stare. It seemed it was all she could focus on.

“Whether ’tis your purpose or not, it doesn’t change the way of things. I go as hard as a stone every time you open that saucy mouth of yours.”

He loomed over the bed—and her—leaving her feeling small and vulnerable. The look in his eyes made her nervous. There was promise there, but of what she was unsure. She licked her lips and edged back, clutching for the furs to cover herself with.

“ ’Tis no use hiding your charms, lass. I’ll find them soon enough.”

“What mean you?” she asked breathlessly. ’Twas the truth it was becoming increasingly more difficult to draw air into her lungs. Her chest was tight and an odd squeezing sensation gripped her until she was light-headed.

He tugged the furs from her clenching fingers and tossed them down toward her feet.

“What I mean is that tonight I’m not going to stop short of my complete and utter satisfaction.”

His eyes gleamed as his fingers stroked over one full breast to her nipple. He thumbed it gently until it puckered into a taut bud.

“And my satisfaction?” she asked crossly. The man sounded selfish and arrogant.

He smiled. “I don’t think you’ll be complaining, lass. You certainly weren’t the night after our wedding night.”

She had nothing to say to that because the man was certainly right.

Her legs trembled. Her fingers shook. Butterflies danced in her belly and up into her throat.

He bent over and then slid one knee onto the bed until he was over her, so close that she could feel the heat of his breath.

Instead of pressing his mouth to hers as she expected, he angled his head and brushed his lips over her neck.

It was like being caught in a fierce lightning storm.

She gasped and arched upward, her head falling back in an invitation for him to nuzzle below her ear.

“You have beautiful skin, lass.”

His voice purred over her throat, vibrating and husky until her entire body tingled in anticipation of where he’d kiss her next.

His teeth sank into the column of her neck, light and grazing, a gentle nip and then one a bit harder.

“You taste as sweet as you look.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “You have a wicked mouth, husband.”

“And to think I’ve only just begun.”

Rionna reached up to grasp Caelen’s shoulders, her fingers digging into his hard muscles. She strained upward, wanting more of his mouth. Shivers of delight raced in patterns over her flesh, like raindrops on a warm summer afternoon.

“That’s it, lass. Hold on to me.”

Gently he lowered her until her back met the bed and she landed with a soft bounce.

“You’re a feast for a man’s eyes.”

“Why is it the bed chamber is the only place you have a kind word for me?” she said with a twist of her lips.

He reared back, a faint smile curving his mouth. “ ’Tis the only time you’re obedient, wife.”

She balled her fist and hit him ineffectually on the shoulder. He captured her wrist and pulled it over her head, holding it there as he cupped one of her br**sts and caressed the swell.

He stroked lazily with his fingers, tracing soft lines to her nipple. He captured the peak and pulled, gently at first and then sharper. Each tug sent a streak of pleasure straight to her core. Her womb clenched. She squeezed her thighs together and arched farther into his touch.

Then he lowered his head until his breath blew warm over the puckered bud. She moaned in anticipation, hardly recognizing the breathy, feminine sounds sliding from her throat.

Warm and rough, his tongue slid sensuously over her nipple, leaving a damp trail to the top of her breast. He released her wrist and lowered his hand to cup her other breast. He kneaded and massaged and then plumped them together.

He licked over one nipple and then pressed a tender kiss to the tip before moving to the other. She stared down at his dark head as he suckled. With each pull, her body tightened more until she was rigid beneath him.

Unable to resist, she thrust her fingers into his long, black hair. She stroked the braids at his temples, pulling when he stopped sucking. With a chuckle, he resumed and she relaxed her hold so that she threaded through the strands, enjoying the slide over her hands.

“I have a mind to taste you again, to feel your honey on my tongue,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes and let her hands fall away as he kissed a path over her belly and lower to the juncture of her thighs.

He leaned over on his side, his big hand splayed over her pelvis. He propped himself up on his other elbow and idly toyed with the curls shielding her femininity. It mortified her and fascinated her with equal measure.

Part of her wanted to squeeze her thighs shut and turn away and the other part wanted to open them to give him easier access.

Carefully he delved inward and gently parted her flesh until she was open and damp to his touch. With one finger, he stroked down and then back up again to circle the tiny sensitive nub.

“I’m fair to bursting, lass. I want to bury myself deep inside your warmth.”

Her eyes widened at the image his words provoked. She went still beneath his fingers and stared down at him. He tilted his head back so he met her gaze, and the intensity in his eyes made her mouth go dry.

His hand left her and slid up her belly to cup her breast and he leaned down to kiss the tip, forming it into a tight peak. Then he shifted his body and moved up so their lips were just a breath apart.

He touched her cheek with the back of one finger and trailed over her cheekbone to her jaw. “I won’t hurt you, lass. You were afraid our wedding night. ’Tis why I didn’t bed you. I’ll be as gentle as a man can be when he’s shaking with want for his bride.”

She opened her mouth to refute his assertion that she was afraid of anything but the protest died as she blew her breath out and closed her lips once more.

Then he kissed her, his mouth moving with infinite tenderness over her lips. All the while his hands slid over her body, stroking, caressing. Soothing.

Somehow he managed to shift over her, his body covering hers like a warm blanket. One muscled thigh wedged between hers and nudged them farther apart.

She was so senseless from his kisses that she hadn’t registered that his very large, very na**d body was pressing tightly against hers, and another very hard, very large portion of his anatomy was prodding insistently at her most intimate flesh.

He found her opening and went still as she stretched around the tip of his manhood. Her startled gaze flew to his face. She tensed, unable to prevent the unease that gripped her.

“Relax, lass,” he whispered against the corner of her mouth. “ ’Twill be easier if you give over. I’ll give you pleasure. I swear it.”

“Tell me what to do,” she whispered back.

“Wrap your legs around me and hold on to my shoulders.”

She lifted her legs and twined them around his, sliding her calves up the hairy, muscled wall of his legs to lock them behind his knees.

Her hands felt small on his shoulders. Her fingers barely left dents in the hard flesh. She stared into his eyes and found gentleness there. It comforted her that he worried over frightening her. Surely she could find courage. How could she expect him to respect his “warrior princess” if she never showed her to him?

“Come to me, husband,” she said boldly.

His hardness found her again, firm against her softness. Probing and insistent.

She gave a little gasp when he slipped the barest inch inside her body. She stretched to accommodate him but the fullness unsettled her.

It was an odd combination of hesitancy and urgency. She wanted him to stop and yet she wanted him to continue.

She bit her bottom lip and lifted her hips, urging him on.

“Ah, lass, how sweetly you beckon me.”

He closed his eyes and a shudder rolled over his shoulders. Beneath her fingertips, he trembled and shook, so tense, as if he fought against his every instinct to hold back.

She ran her hands up and down his shoulders and arms, caressing as her heart softened. He truly was taking the utmost care with her.

“ ’Tis all right,” she whispered. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

His lips were thin, white lines on a face etched in concentration.

“Aye, but I must, lass. I must break through your maidenhead and ’twill pain you no matter what I do.”

He brushed a kiss across her mouth and then he wooed her gently, feeding and sipping at her lips. “ ’Tis sorry I am for it, but there is naught to do for it.”

“Then be done with it. There is no sense in both of us being in pain. I can feel the tension in your body. ’Tis uncomfortable for you to hold back as you’re doing.”

He gave a soft laugh. “You have no idea, lass. You have no idea.”

For the first time, she initiated an intimate gesture. Her hands framed his face, her thumbs feathering over his firm cheekbones. She caressed his angular jaw and then smoothed her fingers over his lips.

Raising her head, she framed his face once more and pulled him down into a long kiss. Their tongues tangled hotly. She had no breath but she refused to pull away. His kiss was intoxicating. The sweetest nectar she’d ever tasted.

Her body opened under his insistent push. ’Twas like having a fiery sword invade her depths. So hard and velvety. Her body resisted his intent to conquer but he held her in place, his hands grasping her h*ps as he thrust again.

“Kiss me, lass. ’Twill be over in an instant.”

Just as their mouths met in a breathless rush, he thrust hard and deep. She was unprepared for the pain. Aye, she’d known what had to happen, but she’d expected a twinge. Maybe even a brief piercing pain. But not this tearing sensation that had her insides feeling brushed by fire.

She cried out and tears sprang unbidden to her eyes, burning as they trailed down her cheeks.

Caelen immediately stilled, his c**k buried deep inside her passage. There was matching pain in his expression as he clenched his jaw tightly. His nostrils flared and he took in several deep breaths as he shuddered against her.

He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, each cheekbone, and even her nose. Then he kissed away the trails of moisture sliding over her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, lass. So very sorry.”

The ache in his voice made her heart twist. A knot formed in her throat, swelling until she couldn’t shape the words she most wanted to say.

He kissed her again even as a harsh groan welled from his chest.

“Tell me when ’tis better. I’ll not move until you say me aye.”

She clenched experimentally around him, testing the tenderness of her sheath.

“God’s teeth, lass. Have mercy.”

She smiled, relieved that some of the fiery pain had dulled to an odd ache deep in her womb. “ ’Tis much better now. The pain has dulled.”

“Thank God,” he muttered. “I cannot hold out much longer.”

She swept a hand over his damp brow and then thrust her fingers into his hair as she pulled him down into a deep kiss.

“Finish it,” she whispered.

He carefully withdrew and her eyes widened at the myriad of sensations that bombarded her. She was tender, aye, and the discomfort was there, but there was also an incredible burn that had nothing to do with pain.

“Easy now,” he murmured. “Give it time, lass. You’ll feel pleasure.”

He pushed forward again, slowly and with such tenderness that she sighed. He seemed so determined that the experience be as pleasant as possible for her.

His fingers found her nipple and he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the peak until it stiffened and became erect. Then he caressed the other until both br**sts were achingly tight.

He smiled down at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You grow wet around me. The br**sts you try so hard to hide bring you much pleasure. And me. They are beautiful like you and a credit to your womanhood. They are soft, as a woman should be, and pleasing to look upon. There is naught I can find fault with you, lass. God fashioned you a perfect woman. I am a lucky man, indeed.”

Oh but she planned to remind him of his honeyed words the next time he turned his scowl of disapproval on her. And she’d remember each and every one of his endearments. She’d hold them close to her heart and pretend that she was his cherished love and not a bride thrust upon him for the sake of loyalty and honor.

Keeley had warned her that a man would say a lot when his c**k was involved. Things he didn’t necessarily mean. Now Rionna understood what Keeley had meant.

He withdrew and thrust again, this time with much more ease. He was right. She had grown damp the moment he fondled her breasts. For so long they’d been such a source of irritation but now she was discovering that they had their uses after all.

For the first time she embraced the idea that somehow she was feminine. Beautiful even. She didn’t despair of appearing softer and not as fierce. It felt good to be a woman in a strong warrior’s arms. Aye, it felt good indeed.

“Do I hurt you still?” he asked.

She raised her mouth to his. “Nay, warrior. You feel very, very good.”

“As do you, wife.”

He slid his hands underneath her buttocks and cupped her, spreading her wider and holding her closer to him. He thrust, burying himself deeper than before.

Gone was the tender warrior who’d strove not to cause her any pain. Now that he was assured of her comfort, he began planting himself inside her as if he were proving his possession, his right to possess her.