B00CGOH3US EBOK (41 page)

"Nay! I am a monster. I cannot foul you with my touch."

"A monster?" She looked wounded at his words, as if he'd called her a hideous beast instead of himself. "You are not a monster. Sure, you may have a few idiosyncrasies about you, but who doesn't? Inside you are still Baelin, a true and valiant knight and the most caring, honorable man I've ever met. I've been with you long enough to know the dragon has not taken the person you were away from you. You're still the same man you've always been."

Baelin closed his eyes to the sight of her. Oh, to believe he was worthy of her touch. Of her love.

But he wasn't, no matter what she said. No matter how much he wanted to be. Until this curse was broken, he had no right to even dream of the possibility.

When he opened his eyes again, she was still sitting there. Still looking at him with such longing and desire, he thought he might drown from it.

He noticed at some point her torn smock had slipped down one arm and now the soft curve of her bare shoulder taunted him. The tattered garment was barely hanging on as it was. One nudge and the other sleeve would fall and she would be naked before him. The thought of aiding the cloth in its journey nearly had him doubled over in pain.

"Do you know what you do to me?"

She heaved a heavy sigh. "Probably the same thing you do to me."

"We must stop."

"Why?"

It was sin enough, what they were doing now. If he took it any further, there would be no going back.

"The maiden must be pure."

She smiled a temptress's smile and shook her head. "Remember, I'm not some shrinking virgin from your time. I'm a twenty-first century woman, with the wants and needs of one. And right now, I want and need you, Baelin of Gosforth."

His breath caught at her words. She was right. If she was not a maid, then he could not take from her what had already been given to another.

He tried to tamp down the flame of jealousy that knifed through him at the faceless man who'd lain with her before. But as he drowned in her passion-filled eyes, her lips plump and reddened from his kisses, the possessive urge fled. He couldn't think on that now. All he could think about was the woman sitting before him, offering herself to him as no other had done before.

She took his hand and placed it over her heart. He could feel it beating strong and rapid under his palm, like a tiny, frightened bird. He made one final, valiant attempt to end what had begun by offering up the last defense he could think of.

"I thought…you once told me that you did not…" he paused, trying to recall her exact words, "…that you did not wish to kiss me for fear of being burned by the dragon's fire."

Her breath rushed from her lungs in a tiny huff. "Are you kidding? All you have to do is look at me and I burst into flames."

That slight movement was all it took. As he had feared, the other sleeve of her smock fell. He froze, their joined hands pressed against her chest the only thing holding the cloth on her body. As if she could read his thoughts, she removed her hand covering his, leaving his alone in place to determine what would happen next.

He looked at his hand resting between her breasts, knowing if he took it away, the torn smock would fall, removing the last flimsy barrier separating him from feeling the flesh of the woman beneath. Heaven help him, he wanted to do nothing more.

After two centuries spent in near solitude, with only the fear and loathing of the other maidens to remind him of what he was, he was not prepared to withstand this assault to his senses, to his very soul. The strongest knight in the entire kingdom could not stand against a battle so well fought. With one scrap of cloth, she had disarmed him completely.

He stared at his hand, afraid to look into her eyes. Afraid of what she was asking of him, knowing he no longer had the strength to deny her.

"My lady, are you so eager then, to mate with the dragon?"

"No."

His eyes flew to her face and his heart stopped beating. Was this some kind of cruel jest? Had she been teasing him all along, tempting him with what he wanted, but could never have?

But there was no joking laughter in her eyes, no cruel intent to wound him in the most vicious way imaginable. He saw only desire and affection, emotions he never thought to have bestowed on him from another human being ever again.

"But I want—no, I need to make love to the man."

With those words, his last defenses crumbled.

Slowly, as if it had a mind of its own, he removed his hand and the smock fell, pooling at her waist. She sat there before him, an angel in the glow of the firelight. He thought he might never draw another breath, she was so beautiful. As it was, he couldn't find the power to move. He could only sit there and gaze upon her.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body to his, bringing her lips closer and closer until they brushed his. She deepened the kiss, probing at his lips with her tongue until he opened to her. She thrust her tongue inside his mouth and he groaned, returning her passion with a fervor that would have brought him to his knees had he not already been there. He wrapped his arms around her, his palms brushing the silky skin of her back, so soft, so smooth.

He felt her hands fumble with the buckle of his sword belt, the straps on his mail. Quicker than any squire could manage, she had the bindings undone and his armor lay in a pile of silver chains by the fire. The thick
aketon
quickly followed, until he sat before her in naught but his breeches.

All the while, she nuzzled at his neck and nipped at the lobe of his ear, sending shivers over his skin. She kissed a slow trail down his naked chest until she reached the starburst scar over his dragon heart, tracing it with her tongue. He closed his eyes and threw his head back as fire shot though his body, radiating out from where her lips brushed the mark of his damnation.

"My lady," he sighed.

"Shush." She put a finger to his lips. "There's no lady here. Tonight I'm just Jill."

He looked in her eyes, the ache swelling within him making it difficult to speak. "Jill."

She leaned back and drew him down on top of her. He covered her body with his own, trying to support his weight on his bent arms rather than give into the desire to crush her beneath him, to drive himself inside her willing body.

He groaned at the feel of her beneath him, so wonderful, so amazing. To think she would allow him to touch her. To
want
him to touch her. He couldn't believe she would offer him this precious gift, and he was powerless to refuse it.

He gazed at her beautiful face. Without inflicting a single blow, this tiny maiden had defeated the mighty dragon, body and soul.

Taking over the part of aggressor, he lowered his head and kissed her, wanting to taste every part of her. He cupped her breast in his hand, thrilled at the wonder of touching her. The way she moved beneath him, moaning, clutching, told him she enjoyed his touch just as much. He bent and took the budding nipple into his mouth, drawing on it deeply, swirling the nub with his forked dragon tongue. She arched beneath him. Jesu, he'd never felt anything like it.

His mouth finally left her breast and found her lips once more while his hand skimmed down her ribcage, over the flat of her belly, before tunneling through the curls between her legs. His fingers parted her, feeling the moist heat pooled there, circling the taut nubbin hidden within before thrusting his fingers inside her.

She gasped against his lips and he captured her cry in his mouth. He ached and strained against his breeches, wanting nothing more than to replace his fingers with his cock inside her, where her muscles could grip him tight and milk the life from him.

He moved from her mouth, along her jaw and down her neck. He nipped at the raised portion of her collarbone before trailing kisses down to her breast where the hard nipple beckoned to be taken into his mouth once again. And he did, suckling her, reveling in the gasps and moans he drew from her.

Warm and pliant, her hands ran up and down his back under his wings, clasping his buttocks, pulling him closer. She writhed under him, her hips undulating, her legs parting so she could rub herself on his thigh. If he had disbelieved before, he knew the truth now. She was no shrinking virgin, but a woman full of passion and experience.

It should have bothered him. It would have, if he could think straight. But right now his head was somewhere below his waist, telling him to stop thinking and just feel. For the first time in over two centuries, to feel.

And he did. By God, he felt every inch of her.

Baelin eased down her body, trailing kisses and flicks of his tongue across her belly. When he reached her hips, he grasped the smock bunched there. She raised her hips so he could push the garment past them, then he eased it down her long legs and tossed it aside.

He pressed his face against her leg, planting kisses along her inner thigh, journeying back up her body from whence he came. He stopped at the juncture of her thighs, where tight, brown curls hid the treasure he sought. So close he could smell her, the scent of her arousal driving him mad. He craved to taste her. But did he dare? She'd already permitted him more than he should take. Would she allow him that great liberty? He journeyed closer to his goal, afraid at any moment she might stop him. Afraid, even more, that she would not.

She didn't. With the barest of nudges, her legs parted easily for him. His dragon tongue flicked out, sweeping the scantest of grazes upon her and she jerked, her hips coming off the ground. Would she stop him now and put an end to it all, when he was so full of need he was near to bursting? His tongue flicked again and she tossed her head back and cried out.

"Oh God, Baelin!"

She didn't stop him. Instead, she lay back, tunneled her fingers through his hair and held him to her. She moaned, twisted and turned, urging him on. The dragon dove in for the feast. He tormented her with darting flicks of his forked tongue, smelling her, tasting her, until her entire body shook as she cried out his name over and over again.

He wanted it to last forever, but his body demanded he seek his own release. He needed to be inside her. Needed to be there now.

He crawled up her body as he fumbled with the ties of his breeches, praying he didn't knot them hopelessly. Jill joined in his efforts, shoving the breeches down his waist and over his buttocks until he could kick them off his feet. He settled between her thighs, aware of the cool night air against his bare skin, a sharp contrast to the warm, soft woman beneath him.

Oh, the feel of flesh against flesh. It was almost too much to bear.

He took himself in hand and guided himself to her entrance. He wanted to take his time, to savor every moment of this, to have it to remember her by if the curse was not broken and he once again became the beast. But he couldn't wait, not after waiting so long.

With the green eagerness of youth he thought lost, he entered her, groaning at the hot warmth surrounding him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer, deeper inside. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he thrust, deep and hard.

And felt something within give way and tear.

He froze, embedded fully inside her, shock washing over him in a cold, harsh wave.

"Ow. Ow!
Ow!
" Jill cried out, pushing at his chest.

He reared back and looked at her, horrified. "You said you were no longer a maid."

"I wasn't." He watched her grimace in pain. "I don't understand—ow!"

Baelin pulled out of her and his cock went slack as shock and disbelief slammed into him. Whether she was a virgin or not was no longer the issue, for she was a maid in truth no more. The fresh smear of blood on her thigh attested to that fact.

He closed his eyes to the irrefutable evidence and shoved himself away from her.
In a single act of mindless lust, he had dishonored the maiden and, in doing so, damned them both.

 
"Dear God, what have I done?"

Jill watched Baelin retreat to the other side of the fire, where he paced like a wild tiger, his expression of betrayal and distrust warring with graceful flex of his nude body.

Damn. Nothing like sharp, unexpected pain to ruin the mood.