What a difference a trek across the territory can make.
The creek they'd eventually reached had been a rapturous sight even if it wasn't overly wide or deep. The males had generously suggested that Mariel take her bath while they prepared camp and she hadn't argued the consideration, hurrying down to the water. However, she should have anticipated that her temporary peace and privacy wouldn't last for long, not that she minded much at all.
She watched heat creep into the Marshal's whiskey-colored eyes as he looked her over. He took his time, as he did with all things sexual, letting her know by the way his eyes lingered on her that he liked what he saw.
He lusted after her. Every inch of her. It was apparent in the tensing of his long, lean body and in the rise of the fabric covering his groin. It was definitely evident when Clay strode boldly forward through the water, uncaring that his trousers grew soaked up to the knees.
Mariel took a step backward, momentarily intimidated. It made Clay grin, all cockiness and sunshine. The fierceness in his eyes eased just a tad.
"You know you don’t need to be afraid of me," he murmured as he drew near.
She tipped her chin up. "I'm not afraid of you. I was afraid you'd trip over a rock in your haste and crush me beneath your body."
"Oh, I'll crush you beneath my body, alright."
He reached her, splashing water over her thighs, and curved a large, calloused hand gently behind her neck, beneath her pinned hair.
"But first," he murmured, bending down to brush his lips across her cheek, "I'll do a little exploring and admiring, if that's alright with you, ma'am."
"I can't resist a man with…pleasant manners," she sighed as Clay brushed the backs of his fingers down her throat.
"I'm more than pleasant, Mariel," he whispered. "Let me show you."
She felt him smile against her cheek before he tipped his head down so he could watch the progress of his hand as it skimmed over her collarbones. For a man who'd lived a rough, dangerous life, he had only ever been gentle with her. His knuckles drifted down until they grazed the top of her left breast. She couldn't help breathing faster, her chest lifting into his touch as he sensuously caressed the swell of flesh. Clay loved her body. She knew he'd gladly spend hours simply touching her like this if he could.
But he was also a skilled lover who knew when she wanted more from him. Still smiling to himself, he gently brushed her erect nipple with one finger. She gasped, her body shuddering from that single touch. Her hands found his shirt and gripped it for balance.
"Never can get enough of the way you dance for me, Mariel," he whispered.
He watched himself brush his knuckles back and forth over her nipple, making her entire body bow toward him. His hand at the nape of her neck massaged her as though he were trying to keep her calm. That simply wasn't possible though, she thought wryly.
She spread her hands flat on his shirt, feeling the firm muscles beneath. His body made her mouth water. She loved his good humor and his charm, but times like this were when she happily acknowledged that Clay was a mouthwatering example of a man. He was only matched, as far as she'd seen, by one other male.
His hand left her breast tingling and aching, only to explore further down her body. Her stomach jumped involuntarily as he grazed the skin of her abdomen and then paused to tease at her navel, a blunt finger dipping in and out. The action made her breath quicken as she anticipated what was to come. Clay's hand drifted lower still, until his fingers combed through the curls covering her mound.
"I'm thinking maybe you don't need to wash yourself in this cold stream," Clay murmured against her cheek. His voice was rougher, thick with lust. "I'm thinking maybe I'll do the deed myself. Lick you all over, Mariel. Use my tongue to make sure I do the job thoroughly. Wet every inch of you."
Mariel clenched her eyes shut. Her knees began to tremble as he slid one finger teasingly back and forth between her nether lips.
"What do you think of that?" he breathed against her skin. "You want my tongue, Mariel?"
"Yes," she gasped. "Please."
He groaned and his fingers at her neck tightened for a moment as though he were overcome by his own desires. Then he released her and slowly sank to his knees in the stream.
The water came up to just below his hips but he didn't appear to care that he was soaking wet. He placed his palms against her inner thighs and exerted pressure, guiding her to spread her legs.
"Brace yourself on my shoulders," he told her. "I don't want you to fall."