Lucy Monroe - Moon Awakening

She did not know how it happened, but with only a couple of brief separations of their mouths, she found herself as nude as he'd promised her she would be. And she was not embarrassed. She felt no shame in allowing him to see her, to touch her… to know her like no one else ever had.

She belonged to him for this moment in time and she refused to consider anything else.

The summer sun warmed her skin, but not nearly as much as the heat of his gaze. Gold-rimmed brown eyes seared her with elemental fire while her own gaze became locked on the part of him that declared him fully male. He'd taken off his plaid and he stood proud and glorious in his own nudity. His masculine sex was swollen and rigid as a staff, pointing at a sharp angle toward the sky.

Oh, my. "I never thought it would be so big," she whispered.

"It?" he asked with strangled laughter in his tone.

She pointed to his male member. "That."

"That?"

"Your penis," she said defiantly.

But he just smiled. She liked his smile. It made her feel warm in a way that even his touch did not.

"You spent much time thinking on the matter?" he asked.

"Only in recent days."

His eyes glowed with masculine satisfaction. "Since you met me?"

"Maybe," she hedged.

"A man is large… a woman small. The fit perfect."

But, according to him, that "fit" was one delight she would not know in his company. She said nothing, simply staring at him and trying to control the urge to reach out and touch. She would never have anticipated wanting to, but she could barely stop herself.

"You want to feel it?" he asked, as if reading her mind.

"Yes."

"Then do so."

Her gaze flew to his, but there was no mockery evident. He meant it. He had put himself at her disposal and her passion and curiosity demanded she accept his invitation.

She stepped closer and then reached down to brush one fingertip along his shaft. It moved and she jerked her hand away.

He laughed. "It is all right."

"But…"

"I like your hand on me."

She looked into his eyes and saw a hunger that matched her own burning in their depths. A sense of exultation made her want to laugh, but not with humor… with sheer joy. She had no experience of men, was not the favored daughter in her father's household, but she could affect the powerful laird of the Balmoral so much that his body trembled with his need for her.

Amazing.

Lachlan watched the sense of feminine sensual power dawn in Emily's violet gaze and had to fight the urge to tumble her onto her back and bury himself in the silken wetness he knew waited for him between her legs. There was no calculation in her expression, only pure happiness.

She liked affecting him so strongly. It was an honest reaction, one worthy of a femwolf, though she was no more than human.

He must remember that truth, no matter how she delighted him. He would not claim her body completely, he would not spurt his seed into her womb. He had promised her mat he would not breach her maidenhead and he would keep that promise. Equally as important, to take a virgin was to imply the willingness to mate for life, and he had no such intention.

No matter how much he might want this human woman, he would not travel the path his father had taken. It was too fraught with danger to his kind.

Emily curled her fingers around his sex as if she had done it a thousand times and rubbed up and down. "You are so soft."

"Soft?" he asked on a choking laugh. "I think not."

"Your skin," she replied with a great deal of seriousness. "Have you ever felt silk?"

"Nay."

"We have silk tapestries in our great hall… or rather my father had. Sybil insisted. They feel like air against your skin, so thin and smooth."

"You are saying I am not more substantial than air?"

"Oh, no. You are quite substantial, laird. But so smooth here over the hardness." She caressed him along his length again, this time taking twice as long to make the journey from base to tip.

If he did not do something, he was going to spill and his pride would not let him do so without giving her pleasure first. Only he could not trust himself to pleasure her right now without swiving her. He had never been so lacking in control, but even his pride could not pretend his mind governed his body at that moment.

He swung her up in his arms and kissed her to stifle any protest she might make. She instantly began kissing him back with a passion that threatened his very sanity.

Using the last bit of self-discipline he had remaining, he forced himself to walk toward the water and not stop until he was in the chilly depths up to his waist. The shock of the cold did little to impact his arousal and he shook with the need to lower her hips and position her to take him inside. He moved toward deeper water. He was up to his chest and her whole body was practically submerged before he broke the kiss.

"Are you ready for your first swimming lesson?" The words came out strong, but his body was weak with desire.

She stared up at him as if she did not understand what he was saying and then her eyes widened and she gave a small shriek. "I'm in the water. And it's cold!" She drew out the last word in a complaining wail.

He shook his head. "Not cold enough." Not nearly cold enough.

"It's not?" Emily looked like she was considering calling Lachlan daft again.

"No."

"But I'm freezing."

He looked down at her and saw that she did indeed have goose bumps all over her body. He wanted nothing more than to smooth them away with one hot caress after another. "We will start with floating."

"F-floating?" She was cold, but he thought the stutter a result of the nervous fear in her eyes.

"I will not let you sink, Emily."

Her eyes filled with resolve. "I do not want to be afraid."

"You will conquer your fear."

"I want to, but I don't know if I can." She did not sound happy with that fact, but resigned to it.

"You can." He was impressed that she did not insist he take her out of the water.

The longer they stood there, the more rigid she became as terror that was so great it even masked the scent of her excitement overcame her. Something shifted inside him as he saw it happen. He hated to see her afraid and was determined to help her. Even his sexual desire took a secondary role to that determination.

"If you drop me, I'm afraid I'll sink into a dark abyss, that the water will hold me down until all my air is gone, until I die… I… I feel like the lake is bottomless, that I will be lost forever. Promise me, you will not drop me."

He was impressed with her for having the courage to voice her fears. "I have already made this promise."

"Say it again."

"I promise I will not let you sink."

She smiled gratefully, though it was a poor attempt. Her mouth trembled and she had turned the color of parchment. "Thank you."

"The loch is not bottomless either, lass."

"I know, but…"

"I am standing on the bottom now and it does not go over my head for a dozen or more feet out."

"I would like to learn to swim here then."

He kissed her softly on her partially parted lips. "All right, sweeting."

A hot blush stole over her cheeks at the endearment and it was all he could do not to kiss her again. She was so damn precious. And she made him smile. He'd been laird for a decade, ever since his father's death in battle, taking on the responsibilities shortly after his voice changed. He'd learned restraint early. He'd also learned duty was more important than pleasure and he had spent the last ten years proving that.

This slip of a woman made him crave the pleasure. She was dangerous, but she was also irresistible.

She gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders the first time he tried to let her go. He found himself almost forgetting their shared nudity in his quest to help her overcome her terror of the water. It took an hour to get her floating with his hand only lightly touching her back, but he was so proud of her for getting that far that he was grinning when he heard an approaching soldier.

He looked down at her lovely body exposed to his gaze and the summer sun and for the first time in an hour saw her as the soldier approaching might see her. Her breasts, belly and thighs floated above the water, while the rest of her was revealed through its crystal clear depths. He had swum naked with femwolves before, and even had sex with them afterward, but never before had he felt the sense of possessiveness he did toward Emily right now.

She was not his woman, but he did not want anyone else to see her this way. Her berry-ripe nipples were beaded from the cold water, and the golden brown curls on her feminine mound glistened with droplets of moisture. Her thighs were apart just far enough for his hand to slide between them and touch her delicate folds if he wanted to.

His hand itched to do just that, but his senses told him the soldier would be there soon.

He sighed soundlessly and then spoke. "Someone is coming."

She'd been floating with her eyes closed upon his instruction, but now they flew open and she tried to sit up. Because she was in the water, she started to sink instead, of course, and he had to grab her to keep her face from going under.

She spluttered and latched onto his shoulders with urgent fingers. "Where? Who?" She frantically looked around the clearing. "I don't see anyone."