Grif couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was beautiful, perfectly made, a shape that could drive a man wild with desire. He lay beside her, put his hand on her belly, and just gazed at her, unable to fully absorb that she was his wife.
Anna touched his brow, traced his nose with her finger, then pressed it against his lips. It was so innocently seductive that Grif found it impossible to resist. He bent down, took the rigid peak of her breast fully into his mouth, and she lifted to him, openly indulging in the ravishing of her breast.
For Anna, the sweet sensation of his mouth on her breast was intoxicating, burning deep inside her and building a fire in the pit of her stomach.
With his mouth and hands, he exalted in her, and Anna received his caresses with pure elation. He moved with his mouth on her breast, his shaft pressed against her hip, and his hand skimming up her leg, sending a thousand shivers through her. She propped herself up on her elbows so she could see him naked, could see his magnificently masculine form—the curve of his hip, the power of his legs, and the thickness of his arms.
Grif suddenly lifted his head, frowning a little. “Anna, m’annsachd, my beloved, how did I find ye?” he softly demanded. “What did I do to deserve ye?”
She did not answer, but smiled wantonly as he pressed her down into the flowers. She buried her face in his neck as her hands anxiously roamed his body. When her fingers grazed the tip of his erection, Grif drew a long breath through his teeth.
“Bloody hell, I want ye, lass,” he said gruffly. “I want to possess ye as a man will possess his wife, the woman he loves.”
Anna responded to that with a smile and by taking him fully in hand. His eyes darkened; he pushed himself up, balanced on his muscular arms, and looked at her, his gaze reverently sweeping her body.
Never had she felt so beautiful as she did in that moment, as Grif gazed so longingly at her. He sighed, kissed her mouth, then her breast, moving lazily to kiss her belly. “Me wife. Me beautiful, bonny wife.”
Anna grabbed Grif’s hair as he put his hands on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, and pulled her forward. He buried his face in her belly, pushed her right leg and lifted it, putting it over his shoulder. “Grif,” she whispered, smiling as his lips traced a warm, wet path across her inner thigh, toward her sex, and she absently lifted her hand, let if flutter across her breast.
His breath brushed the apex of her thighs. When his tongue dipped inside her sex, she grabbed his shoulders, suddenly terrified by her own desire. She was gasping for air as he flicked his tongue in the valley, her body moving against him. But Grif held her firmly, his mouth closing in on the point of her desire, nibbling, sucking, licking.
She was spiraling down again, into a dark pool of ecstasy, clutching desperately at his head, moving instinctively to meet the caress of his tongue. Unable to contain her desire, her body was quickly shuddering, and just as she began to cry out, he caught her breast, holding it, kneading it as she fell into paradise.
Her cries sounded delirious; she writhed beneath him, her arms flailing, her hair covering her face as the extraordinary sensations washed over her in wave after wave of stunning delight.
She forgot everything but Grif, could think of nothing but returning that remarkable pinnacle of delight, and having no idea how to do it.
Grif moved between her legs, softly caressing the damp curls. “Anna,” he said hoarsely, and she opened her eyes, rolled her head to look at him. “Come to me now as a wife, as I will come to ye as a husband.” He came over her, pressed his thick erection into her sex. He found her hand, guided it so that she could feel how much he wanted her. “Grif,” she murmured helplessly.
He smiled, reached between them, felt her slick opening, and slowly, carefully slid into her.
Anna gasped softly as the tip of him entered her, but felt the discomfort ease as her body adjusted to him. And then he slid a little farther, the clench of his jaw the only outward sign of his restraint. Anna closed her eyes, let her head fall back, let her body feel her husband inside of her.
“Diah, I canna wait,” he said, his voice sounding as if he struggled to remain calm. “I want to be inside ye, to show ye how a man will give his wife pleasure so that he may know his own.”
With a smile, Anna opened her eyes. “Show me, husband.”
Grif slipped an arm under her back and lowered his mouth to hers. And as he kissed her, he thrust powerfully with his hips, breaking the barrier. Anna cried out, a mixture of pain and sheer ecstasy enveloping her, and she had the sensation of Grif sliding slowly into her depths.