Free Gayle Eden by Illara's Champion Page A

circling the nipple.
    “Should I feel this—strongly?”
    “Aye.” Pagan leaned down and kissed her again, this time while his hand smoothed over her ribs and stomach. When he reached her pubis, she flinched. His head lifted an inch. “I will not harm you, Illara.”
    She believed him. Yet she was tense as he rubbed there, his large hand covering most of the area, before he ran his fingertips down through her curls. A tingling began just below his touch. Illara was aware that contracting muscles in her sex was causing moisture there.
    She let her hand fall from her breast and endeavored not to stiffen. He observed her expression on and off and worked his way lower by unhurried degrees, finally parting the lips and touching something that brought her hips off the bed.
    She grabbed his wrist.
    Pagan stopped and waited, whispering deep, “Not pain?”
    “Nay.”
    His lips curved slightly. They momentarily fascinated Illara. Her gaze remained on them until he was kissing her again.
    That spot Pagan found once more, gliding past it with the pad of his finger and going lower. Her dampness embarrassed her. He groaned in her mouth, and she sensed it aroused him. Unhurriedly he stroked up and down, always ending at the opening of her sex, and at one point dipping into it.
    He raised his head again, breathing rigid as she. Between drugged and aroused, she watched him lift his fingers, glistening with sticky wetness. Her heart nearly choked her when he raised them to his lips, rubbing them across his mouth slowly, before laving her dampness away with his tongue. He dipped his head, kissing her lose and scented with what she knew was her sexual musk.
    His fingers returned to tease and glide.
    Her hands clutched at his shoulders.
    Pagan kissed her jaw and throat and then moved out of her touch. He kept going, lips bathing her body, tongue tasting her skin and warm breathes fanning it. Her neck arched, Illara hardly realized Pagan had parted her legs until they were on either side of him Then, feeling his tongue raking over her mons, covering every inch. His teeth pulled lightly at the lips.
    She moaned more than once, wondering at herself, wondering at him and what he was doing. He moved so that her legs were on either side of his body, and even though she sat up, bracing weight on her forearms, it did not deter him.
    He smoothed his palms up her inner thighs, and pressed them wider. His thumb brushed through the moisture. She thought she should be mortified. Illara was open to him. He was looking at her there but even without seeing his face, she could tell from his touch, and something his body emanated, that Pagan found pleasure in it.
    His gaze met hers for a second before he spread the lips with his thumbs and lowered his head.
    “Jesu!” She jerked and her head went back. “Pagan!” Illara did not know what to say or do because Pagan was first laving, and suckling. Fire raced through her, up her spine, and with it, urges that she could not articulate.
    Pagan did things there, with his mouth and tongue, and as he did, the feelings intensified. Illara did not flinch when his mouth left her and his finger was easing into her. She was too eager and too wet, and too mindless to anything save grinding her hips down to meet it. Pagan began a smooth and measured cadence that rubbed the walls of her sex and enticed some instinct from her to move and arch and stroke back.
    “Illara…”
    She heard her name rumble from him, but her body felt such pleasure and such heat that she welcomed when his mouth found her. She rubbed against his tongue and lips that chaffed there.
    “Pagan.” The tightening gathered, and for a moment, her eyes opened wide, her body stilling.
    Pagan arose to kiss her, more scented with her musk, more forceful with his kiss. He dragged his lips to her ear and whispered, “Do not fear it, Illara. It is your pleasure.”
    He bit softly at each nipple, suckled, and went back to her sex. His touch and laving