His mouth closed over one of Maggie’s distended nipples then, sucking for a moment and then withdrawing. Maggie gave a little cry and clutched both her hands together at the back of his head, pressing Reeve back to her breasts.

He laughed before enjoying her again, this time with a lusty avarice that made Maggie writhe in pleasure, her head thrust back, her lips parted, her breath coming in short, rasping gasps.

Reeve had his fill at the first breast and then took leisurely nourishment at the second. Maggie was almost delirious with wanting as it was; when Reeve’s fingers brushed over the downy place at the junction of her thighs, promising much in their passing, she groaned aloud and, of their own accord, her hips bolted from the bed in response to his touch.

A low sound in Reeve’s throat indicated his amusement, and his mouth left her breast to tease her with a kiss so light as to cause Maggie to wonder if she’d imagined it. And then Reeve’s lips were moving against hers. “The rain ’as stopped,” he said. “If you aren’t quiet, lass, everyone in camp will know just what it is that I’m doin’—”

Maggie’s hands were still locked in his hair, and her body throbbed in restless yearning on the blankets. His fingers brought her yet another new torment, sweet and achy and fierce. “I’ll b-be quiet—I promise—I promise!”

Reeve chuckled again and then he was moving away, his lips brushing along her chin, the quivering satin expanse of her neck, her breasts, and her stomach. And then, to her utter surprise, his fingers gave way to his mouth.

Maggie’s hips were flung high by some savage instinct as he nuzzled her, tasted her with brief fiery strokes of his tongue, and then claimed her fully. His hands held the shivering plumpness of her bottom high while he consumed her, and Maggie clapped both her own hands over her mouth in a desperate effort to muffle the low, lusty cry of welcome that spiraled up from the very core of her soul to rattle in her throat.

She had thought, in the first jarring realization of what Reeve was doing, that this was the summit of pleasure, the fulfillment. Instead, it turned out to be only a hint of the explosive tumult that was to come.

Maggie’s heart hammered and her breath tore back and forth through the latticework of her fingers, and the sensation at the joining of her thighs became unendurably pleasurable. At the same time she craved the mysterious satisfaction her body strained toward, she fought to escape it. But Reeve held her fast in his hands, raising her hips higher and higher as he tongued and sucked her toward madness, and Maggie’s own legs betrayed her, knees widening to give him greater access, heels digging into the mattress in a frantic, entrenching motion.