Free The Draig's Woman by Lisa Dawn Wadler Page B

seemingly buried in her neck to keep an eye on the door. To his amazement, Claire began to mimic the joining he craved. Her hips moved against him in a slow torment as her hands gripped his shoulders and her breasts pressed against his chest. Ian’s hands went beneath the sheet of their own will, pulling her by the firm backside to meet his mock thrusts. Listening to the soft sounds she made, he prayed they were real. His mouth tasted her neck, covering her with kisses as her soft mounds pressed into his chest. In another time and place, Ian would have killed for a moment such as this.
    The sounds of the men’s voices carried into the room. Ian heard all their crude comments, the way they spoke of her, and what they were seeing now. One day he would kill them simply for having seen his woman and for thinking they had any right to her.
    The men had seen enough, and Ian could take no more. Lifting and turning them gently, Claire now lay on the bed with his body covering her. Bracing on his elbows and knowing they were being watched, he shifted and placed himself where he desperately wanted to be. His manhood was against the vee of her thighs and, cursing the sheet between them, he thrust. Grinding against Claire, he relished that she moved with him. Even the mimicking of passion with this woman brought pleasure Ian did not believe could exist. With a comment about what they could no longer see, the men were gone. Claire and Ian were now alone.
    He stopped. “They’re gone, sweeting. ‘Tis just us.” Claire’s eyes remained closed. He waited while his body fought its stillness. After what seemed an eternity, she looked him.
    “I dinna ken how we will get out of this place. ‘Tis my fault we are here. I should have taken more care and nay brought us here. I promised you safety and only delivered danger,” Ian said softly, attempting to slow his ragged breathing.
    “It’s not your fault, Ian. There weren’t a lot of options available.” Claire paused to catch her breath. “What do we do now? Should we get up and get dressed or should we stay like this?”
    Plenty of things crossed Ian’s mind. Looking at the beautiful woman beneath him, he saw fear and something else in her eyes. Ian needed to move away to keep his promise to leave her alone. Away from her soft skin and the feel of her warmth. Away from her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Far away from the temptation he swore to avoid. A good man would ignore the soft hands on his shoulders. A better man would not note the firm thighs cradling his hips. A strong man would ignore the promise of passion in her eyes. He knew he should, at the very least, answer her question.
    Instead, Ian kissed her, placing a soft kiss on her lips, then another and another. It started as a question: Would Claire allow this? Did she need this too? It started slowly as he felt her hesitation on the first touch. When her mouth began to reach for his, it rapidly spun out of control. Lips captured hers and nibbled her lower lip; his tongue invaded, invited by her gasps. Her mouth took his in return, tasting and tormenting him, but it wasn’t enough. The question had been answered. Now Ian needed everything.
    He left her lips, his mouth travelling down her neck, lavishing hot, opened-mouthed kisses across her shoulders and down to her breast. When his tongue found her hard peak, her soft cries threatened to rush his need. While his mouth devoured one breast, his hand caressed the other, his thumb mimicking his tongue. Not yet satisfied with her ragged breathing, his mouth moved to the other to give it the same attention, to feast with the same greed.
    Claire’s hands caught in his hair and pulled him harder onto her. Ian’s fingers danced in circles across the silken skin of her stomach, and the thought that this had gone too far evaporated. Instead, his mind and body insisted it could never be enough. He willed his head to turn away from the breast to see her. Her eyes were half