She moaned deep in her throat when his teeth gently grazed her nipple.
“More?” he asked against the fullness of her breast.
Breena could only nod.
With obvious reluctance, Osborn let her slide down his frame until her feet touched the ground again. He swept off his cloak, and spread it on the green grass. “In my dream, you shared all of your body with me.”
She sucked in her bottom lip, toyed with it with her teeth. “It really wasn’t me.”
“I want it to be.”
She wanted it, too. Want.
He leaned close. “Make it be for me.”
His warm breath sent a ripple of sensation down her neck. Her fingers shook as she reached for the drawstring keeping the baggy pants in place. It should be awkward to remove her clothes in front of a man who just a while ago she thought would kill her. Now it seemed the most natural thing in the world.
With a jerk, the pants loosened around her waist, and with a shimmy of her hips, the material slid slowly down her thighs.
Osborn’s eyes followed their progress.
Breena kicked the pants aside, now fully bared to his eyes. And to his fingers. His lips. His tongue.
He reached for her hand, and drew her down with him to the cloak, its soft material protecting her naked back from the twigs and rocks on the ground. After cupping her breasts one last time, he allowed his hands to explore. His fingers trailed down over the curve of her stomach and along her thighs.
“So soft. Your skin warms to my touch.”
Yes, she wanted his hands everywhere on her.
Osborn stretched alongside her, his mouth finding her collarbone, moving along its path until he discovered a place below her ear that when he kissed it, her entire body shivered. He groaned at her response.
“Do you like that?”
So much she wanted to do it back to him. “Yes,” she told him, her voice drawn and tight to her own ears.
Osborn added his tongue.
Wetness rushed where her thighs met. Her whole body seemed to be curving toward him, craving more of what he could give her. She lifted her knee, and ran the tips of her toes down his molded calf. She gasped when his fingers sank between her legs, the feeling of his gentle invasion exquisite.
“You’re so wet for me.” His voice was little more than a growl. With a swipe of his tongue to her earlobe, Osborn began to slide down her frame, stopping to give a gentle nip to her breasts, and he continued lower.
He tasted the skin under her breasts, circled her belly button with his tongue. Went lower still.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Changing the energy.”
She felt his warm breath on the curls between her thighs, and she began to shake. He nudged her knees farther apart, exposing her woman’s body to his gaze.
“So slick for me.”
With one tiny kiss, her every muscle locked. His head descended, and he licked. Her moan filled the clearing around the lake, echoing off the trees.
“I love to hear your pleasure.” Then he gave her more. He laved every part of her, and plunged his tongue within her. Every muscle, every part of her that could feel, tightened and narrowed, just waiting for more of his touch.
He began to seek inside her with his finger. The tip delving where she ached to have him fill her.
“So tight.”
“That feels so good.”
“It’s about to get a whole lot better.” He lowered his head again and began to suck where her sensations seemed to be the most centered. And her world burst.
Breena dug her fingers into Osborn’s shoulders as crest after crest of pleasure slammed her senses. Her cry sailed up to the trees and she arched herself toward him until the amazing sensations died away.
With one last kiss, he rolled to his back beside her, and stared up at the sky.
She rolled toward him, draping her arm over his chest, and cuddled as close as she could. She’d remember this forever.
Osborn tensed when she began to play with the fine hair covering his chest. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
Breena shook her head. “That was incredible. You made me… I felt… It’s hard to find the words.”
She expected Osborn to bask in her praise. Encourage her for more. If anything, his expression grew grimmer than when they’d first returned to the lake.
“Before the invasion of your home, what was your training? What were you meant to be?”
“Be? I don’t understand what you mean.”
He pushed her hand away from him, and braced himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her, not up. “You’re not a servant, or someone who works out in the field. We’ve already established that. You’re something more. You’re meant for something. Someone. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” His tone sounded accusatory, like he suspected she kicked small animals for fun.
Unease settled just below her heart. She nodded, confirming his question. Breena didn’t like the direction this conversation seemed to be taking. She didn’t know what she was hoping for after an experience that was so intense and personal for her—maybe a hug, but certainly not an interrogation.
Osborn scrubbed his hand down his face. “Should have known. You had that wholesome look about you.”
Wholesome?
Men didn’t teach women battle skills they found…wholesome. It was a loathsome word.
“You’re meant for another.” His words were low, spoken into the ground.
“What?” she asked, not sure she heard him correctly.
He aimed his gaze somewhere in the vicinity of her forehead. “Get dressed. You’re meant for another. Not me. Never me.”
Breena snapped her legs together. A wave of embarrassment and confusion shuddered through her. “You’re not making me leave you?”
His breath came out in a heavy sigh. “No, you’ll learn what you need to, and then I’ll send you on your way.”
Relief chased away the confusion, but the embarrassment still warred inside her. She reached for her discarded pants, and quickly stepped into them.
“And, Breena?”
They were back to that. “Yes?”
“Remember the warning I first gave you?”
Maybe. Which one? There were so many.
She nodded instead. Seemed a safer response now that he was back to being so prickly.
“Don’t be alone with me. I don’t want my touch to defile you.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she quickly blinked them back. “How could what we just shared be defilement?” His caresses had brought something out in her. She felt connected to him. Intimate.
He obviously did not feel the same way.
Osborn finally locked his eyes on her. Her lips. Her breasts. Between her legs. Then his gaze clashed back with hers. Hunger and desire and passion so carnal and raw blazed in the brown depths. “What I want to do with you, yeah, you’d definitely come away defiled.”
And she bet she’d have a smile on her face, too. Turning her back to him, she tugged the shirt he hated on her back in place. What did he want her to wear? They were shirts from his household.
“And, Breena?”
And again just to make sure she was truly flustered. Now it was her turn to sigh. “Yes?” she replied sweetly.
“Stay out of my dreams.”
“I wasn’t in your dreams,” she told his retreating back.
AFTER THE MORNING CHORES, Bernt and Torben met them on the practice field. Osborn paced across the grass, once more the stern and frightening man she’d woken to days ago.
“Balance is the most important aspect of your fight. Once you lose your balance you lose the opportunity to protect yourself, defend…and lunge, your offense. And then you die.”
He pointed to three large round stones, each with a plank of wood beside it. “Place the wood on the stone and step on. Balance until the sun is directly overhead.”