Celtic Maid (Roman Love ~ Pict Desire Series Book 2) (21 page)

Titus grinned. “Well done.” He strode to the rabbit and tugged out the arrow. “I’ll clean and cook it since you made the kill.”

She bit her lip. At least the rabbit had pulled them from awkwardness. Elspeth would have been unbelievably embarrassed if she’d poured out her heart only to meet his rejection. “Still dubious about me cooking are ye now?”

“How much damage can one do to a rabbit turned over a spit?” Titus grinned and led her back to the glade. “If you gather the wood and start the fire, I’ll make quick work of this carcass.”

By the time they ate, it had grown dark and cold. Across the small fire, Elspeth watched Titus lick his fingers. Something in her expression must have stopped him, and he held her gaze, his lips slightly parted. Her bottom lip trembled and a shiver coursed through her body. She pulled her cloak tightly around her shoulders.

His hazel eyes reflected the flickering firelight. “You are cold.”

“Aye.”

Titus scooted beside her. “The heat from our bodies is the best way to fight a chill.” He tugged on her cloak. “Let us wrap this around us both. I will warm you.”

Elspeth slowly opened her trembling arm. Having him so near muddled her mind. She needed to keep reminding herself he didn’t want her. Oblivious to her inner battle, Titus pulled the edge of her cloak around his shoulder, and sipped his mantle beneath. His body was hot as a hearth.

She swallowed—if only she could tell him how she felt—pour out a miserable apology. But she couldn’t. She brushed her nose over his mantle and inhaled the woodsy smell. Heaven help her, she ached to touch him. “I-I should have tied a blanket to me saddle, but I did not ken I’d be leaving Gododdin.”

He gently pulled her onto his lap and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Sit with me for a bit.”

Elspeth’s breath quickened. “I should not.” She tried to slip off his warm thighs, but he held her firm.

Titus brushed his lips across her cheek. “You need not fear me.” He inhaled. “But there is one thing I must know.”

“Aye?”

“Your kisses. The ones in my chamber.” He rested his forehead against hers.

Elspeth tried to speak but nothing came out. Those marvelous kisses—the ones that kept her awake at night. How could she forget them?

“Did they mean nothing to you?” His voice grew hoarse.

She raised her head and searched his eyes. She saw pain, vulnerability, something she had never seen in those changing hazel eyes before. Had she hurt him? The kisses had haunted him too? Her tongue slipped out with her inhale. “I cannot sleep for thinking of yer lips against mine.” It was but a whisper, but she was certain he’d heard her.

A nervous tick twitched at the back of his jaw. “But you were there on a mission—when you left, I…I felt betrayed.”

“Aye. I was there under the king’s orders, though he had no authority over me own feelings.”

Drawing in a stuttered breath, Titus cupped her face with his hands. “Do you mean that?”

She lowered her lashes. “’Tis not in me nature to lie. I fear I am not very good at it.”

Ever so slowly, he inclined his head and brushed his soft lips over her forehead. How on earth could such a hardened warrior be this gentle, his lips so exquisitely soft? “You had me caught in your web.” His voice grew husky.

Elspeth lifted her chin and looked in his eyes, glowing amber in the firelight. His gaze held hers, intense as if he were starving—but for her. She couldn’t even blink. “And now, m’lord?”

He inclined his head, fanning those amber eyes with long lashes. The scent of spicy male washed over her as he neared, and for a fleeting moment, it crossed her mind that this was inappropriate. But when his mouth clamped atop hers with the ferocity of a warrior, Elspeth couldn’t have pulled away if she had desired to do so. A fire ignited deep in her belly, a cavernous yearning so powerful it consumed her being. Elspeth wrapped her arms around his neck, swirling her tongue with his, tasting him—savory, yet sweeter than honey.

Her fears melted. The only thing she could sense was Titus, the warmth of his skin, the strength of the hands that clutched her against him. She wanted to be closer. When she smoothed her arms down his muscular shoulders, her breasts caressed his chest. A craving more intense than hunger swelled within them.

Titus’s manhood jutted against her buttock. She had never seen a man naked but had heard Greum mention the way a man’s sex hardens like a horse when he wants to mate.

A gush of moisture leaked from her most sacred spot, and she shuddered in his arms.

“Are you still cold?”

Elspeth sucked in a ragged breath. “Nay. I am warm to the point of bursting.”

“I’ll be but a moment.” He lifted her off his lap and headed for Petronius.

Too quickly, the warmth from his amazing kiss fled. She shivered as soon as he stepped away. Had he honestly kissed her? Elspeth’s lips tingled, and she touched her hand to her mouth. Was there a chance he could forgive her?

Titus returned with a woolen blanket. “We can rest this atop the moss and lie beneath our cloaks.”

Though it was summer, a chill still came with the night air. She looked behind, not that she expected to see anything, but to clear her mind. She should not lie beside him—but then she’d never wanted anything so much in her life than to be close to this man. Holding his stare, she stood.

Titus tugged off his chainmail, then unfastened his doublet and let it fall to the ground. Elspeth’s eyes dropped to his tunic. Beneath, his maleness tented the orange linen fabric. She gasped. Another rush of moisture heated her core.

He crawled onto the blanket.

Oh how she wanted to slip beside him and throw caution to the wind. But though her heart desired him more than life, her reasoning forced her to remain completely still. “Titus, I am but a maid. I cannot.”

“Just lie beside me. I will control my urgings.” He raised his arms and beckoned her.

She hesitated for a moment. There was no other place to bed down. Trembling, she crawled alongside him. Rolling to her side, she lay with her back to him.

Titus draped a sturdy arm across her waist and drew her close until their bodies molded together. The rigid shaft of his manhood slid into the cleft of her buttocks. “Elspeth?”

“Aye?”

“Are you promised to anyone?” His voice had turned smoother than butter.

“Nay. Greum cannot find a man he deems suitable. That’s what happens when yer brother negotiates yer betrothal.” She shifted her buttocks. “Taran asked the queen to help.”

“Did he?”

****

Titus didn’t know how much longer he would be able to withstand Elspeth’s lovely bottom pushing against his erection. When she’d snuggled into his chest beside the fire, scent of wood smoke and woman nearly made him spill his seed—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman, nor did he want to. Presently the object of his every desire rested before him, rubbing her bottom against his throbbing cock.

If he took her, he would need to make her his wife. He could not sign a treaty with the Picts and bed their spy. King Taran had put Elspeth in his care with strict instructions to keep her safe. Besides, Greum would come after him and not rest until he’d crucified Titus on an oaken cross.

Wife
.

The word had never tempted him until now. What would his father do if he sent a missive to Rome advising that he had found the love of his life in the wild, beyond the realm of civilization?

Elspeth moved.

His cock throbbed. His mind could not focus.

If they were married, Titus could lose himself in her pleasures every night. “Would you consider a life with someone like me?” Had the words actually escaped him?

She rolled over and faced him—her breath as tempting as a ripe berry. “Ye would marry the likes of me?”

Indeed, she’d heard him. He had no regrets. “Aye, lass,” he said, affecting a Pictish brogue.

Chuckling, she threaded her arms around his neck. Titus’s breathing spiked as she boldly took control, moving her lips closer, until her silken mouth joined with his. Unable to think of anything but the woman in his arms, he lost himself in her floral scent. She tasted as wild as the Highland frontier. Titus pulled her into his embrace, his chest growing hot with the supple breasts plying him.

Unable to resist, he moved his hand over her breast and circled his fingers around her hardened nipple. Elspeth groaned into his mouth and stretched her slender leg over his hips. Filling her crux with his manhood, Titus pressed himself into her warm center. God help him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. His arousal languished on the brink of oblivion, too overwhelmingly scorching to stop.

Her demanding kisses became frantic with nibbles to his tongue, his chin, his earlobes. She tugged up his tunic. Titus rose up and helped her pull the linen over his head. The cloak slid aside and revealed his member. The firelight danced upon him, making his manhood appear as inflamed as he felt.

Elspeth stared and licked her lips. She reached out her hand and stroked him with deft fingers. Titus sucked in a sharp breath and arched his back. Her light touch magically took him to paradise.

Shuddering, he swirled his hand over her breasts. “I want to see you naked… Please.”

Her fingers trembled as much as his. Without a word, she gave him a nod. Together they tugged up her gown over her thighs, and the linen smock beneath came with it. Unable to wait, he pulled off both garments and beheld the most luscious alabaster skin on earth—pure white like a sculpted Roman goddess. The flames danced across her flesh, flickering erotically.

Perfectly formed breasts tantalized him. Her slim waist curved to wantonly seductive hips with luscious red curls at her apex. His breath caught when the light caught her thighs. “Archers.”

“’Tis me Pictish sign,” she said with an uptick to her chin.

He hadn’t forgotten the hint of defiance in her demeanor. He loved even that. He rubbed his palm over one of the blue tattoos. “They suit you.”

She smiled, and Titus’s heart twisted harder. God, he loved her dimples.

He again cupped her breasts in his hands. Filling his palms completely, he massaged her. Elspeth whimpered. “What’s happening to me?”

His tongue flicked out and teased her nipple. “The passion between a man and a woman provides the greatest thrill on earth.”

Ever so gently, he lay her down and kneeled between her legs. Gazing upon her made his blood course with a rapid thrum beneath his skin—beauty from the red curls concealing her sex, to her silken breasts, to a face so lovely that the memory of it had burned an image on his mind forever.

She reached for him. Slowly, he held himself over her and caressed her neck with his lips. “The first time can be painful for a maid.”

Her hands drew his body closer. She threaded her fingers behind his neck and claimed his mouth, her kisses growing more self-assured. She moved her hips across his cock, the fine hairs of her womanhood tickling him dangerously.

Titus took her breast in his mouth and sucked the nipple gently at first, then steadily increased the tension. Elspeth arched her back, the rocking of her hips intensifying as his hand traveled down to the soft curls above her mons. He slipped a finger between the folds of her treasure, and she cried out. He found the entry to her womb, hot, wet, ready to receive him.

His cock pulsed again and a pearly bead moistened the tip. He caressed her tiny button and Elspeth moaned as she spread her legs wider, her tongue flicking as she raised her arms and invited him in. He straightened over her body and kissed her. Elspeth’s tongue searched wildly, her hips rocking, showing him her most basal desires.

Titus wanted to draw out the moment—let their passions linger on the precipice of rapture—but his self-control teetered upon a ragged edge. He reached his hand down and grasped his member, guiding it to her. “I will try not to hurt you, but I am too close to losing control.” His husky voice strained to utter the words.

She looked at him through heavy-lidded, sultry eyes. “I want ye. I’ve never wanted anyone but ye.”

He slid in the tip of his cock, and she gasped. Titus stopped, every muscle in his body tense. “Am I hurting you?”

“’Tis all right.” She dug her fingers into his buttocks and forced his shaft deeper. Elspeth moaned with quick breaths as she rocked her hips in harmony with his.

Clenching his butt cheeks together, Titus forced himself to steady. With agonizing self-control, he moved at a snail’s pace while he waited for Elspeth’s tight walls to soften and yield. Gradually she increased her movement beneath him and sank her fingers into his buttocks.

With stuttered breaths, he allowed her to dictate the pace. She stared at him through a thick fan of ruby lashes, the arousal reflected in her eyes unmistakable. He tried to wait, but his loins smoldered, punishing him.

Watching her face, listening to her stilted gasps, and inhaling the heady bouquet of her sex drove him to the very brink of madness. She opened her mouth, and a cry caught in the back of her throat. Titus could wait no longer. He bent his head and claimed her mouth, as Elspeth’s fingers demanded he thrust with his every ounce of strength.

When he threw his head back, Elspeth shattered beneath him, crying out, her breathing coming in rapid pants. He could no longer withhold his own pleasure. Need consumed him. With one more violent thrust, a roar ripped from his throat. Stars crossed his vision. His seed erupted, filling her womb. His entire body trembling from the ferocity of his release, he collapsed over her. “My God, I have never in my life experienced earth-shattering passion akin what you’ve given me this night.”

Chapter Fifteen

Elspeth stirred to the hoot of a morning dove. Rays of light fluttered over her with movement of breeze through the leaves. Titus spooned her with his body, his warmth suspending her as if she were floating. The wisps of his breath caressed the back of her neck, and she wanted this moment of solitude to last forever.

Things had happened so quickly. She’d resolved to return to Vindolanda to prove to Titus she was an honorable maid. She’d thought he could not possibly have feelings for her. Had he honestly asked her to marry him and made love to her as his wife? Elspeth clutched her arms to her chest. Oh how irate Greum would be to discover she had lain with a Roman. She inhaled the pine scent of the glade. She would not think of Greum’s reaction now. Too much joy filled her breast. They had coupled repeatedly, and though she was sore, she’d pushed the pain from her mind. All that had mattered in that moment was the two of them. It was as if she floated on a cloud sailing above.