So, he has stayed out to avoid me? Where has he been all this time?She rose and came towards him and the smell of whisky on his breath told her he’d been at the Spotted Chicken.
“I wait for ye,” she said simply. She put a hand on his chest and looked up at him. He was a big man. His scent, a whiff of sweat, wood smoke and tobacco, something that was intrinsically him, made the place between her legs throb.
“Aihan,” he said helplessly, his blue eyes glowing with a fire that made her pulse race.
“Dinnae fight it,” she whispered, reaching up to kiss him.
He shut the door with a backward kick of his foot and drew her tight against him with a noise part-way between a groan and a growl. “Lass, ye’re killing me,” he whispered between heated kisses.
“Me too,” she said, panting, pressing her body closer to him. She wanted to climb him like a tree. Make him take her to heaven, fully, properly. She had prepared for this with a strategically placed vinegar-soaked sponge. His big hands seized her bottom and squeezed, pressing her against him, so she could feel the hard heat of him. She wanted that.
He walked her backwards towards the fireplace and pulled her down into his lap on the chair. She squirmed about to straddle him. All the while they kissed, deep, devouring kisses,tongues and teeth clashing wanting to get as close to each other as possible.
She bunched the heavy fabric of her gown up to get closer to him, and he loosened the laces of her bodice, his mouth tracing kisses up and down her neck. She arched it for him and reached between them to find the buttons on his breeches.
One of his hands dipped inside her bodice to cup a breast and fondle a nipple, causing her to whimper with need, hot throbs of sensation between her legs making her wetter. The razor-sharp ache of desire made her hips buck, she was so desperate for touch there. Her shaking fingers scrabbled at his buttons, trying to work them loose and get at the treasure within.
His other hand reached under her skirts and ran up her thigh, and she moaned when his fingers finally touched her twitching, weeping flesh.
“Mac, please,” she begged.
He groaned. “Ye’ll be the death of me, lass!” he muttered against her shoulder, his teeth grazing her skin. His fingers stroked her flesh and she groaned, her voice cracking as she cried out with the relief and the increased ache all at once. His fingers slid along the wet channel of her sensitised flesh, stirring her to more intense desire. It was almost too much and yet not enough. Her fingers faltered on the buttons of his breeches as his stroking touch tipped her abruptly over the edge with a convulsive jerk of her hips and a whimpering moan. The quick pulse of desire throbbed through her body as she caught her breath, a half-orgasm brought on by her overwrought condition. Not the full-body satisfaction she was looking for.
She renewed her attack on his breeches and got the last stubborn button undone, reaching within for the hard, hot length of him. His girth challenged the grip of her hand, her fingers wrapping round him as she stroked the hot, smooth flesh, iron encased in velvet. Provoking him to swear.
“Fook, woman!”
She would have laughed if she weren’t so overcome with desire. The rippling peak she had experienced moments before had only whetted her appetite for more. She moved, wriggling forward and kneeling up to guide him inside her. Her flesh engaged the head and she sank down, impaling herself on him with a groan of satisfaction, echoed by a guttural noise from him as his hands squeezed her hips.
He was big and firm within her, filling her, stretching her, assuaging the aching emptiness that had been plaguing her. She gripped his shoulders for balance and rode him hard, bent on her own satisfaction. Her gaze fixed on his face, mesmerised by his blazing blue eyes. He wore an expression of desperate, fierce hunger and something she couldn’t define.Awe?
She panted, pushing herself to her goal, her hips grinding against his flesh in just the right way to drive herself over the edge. It was glorious, and she flung her head back at the last, closing her eyes as the pleasure peaked fully this time, flooding her body with bliss, sending a cascade of tingles to the soles of her feet and all the way to her scalp. She cried out in joy, wringing the last drops of pleasure from her flesh and collapsing forward on his chest in breathless delight.
His arms gripped her tight, and he muttered something she couldn’t understand. She suspected it might be in his native tongue, Gaelic. He had a habit of lapsing into that in moments of extreme emotion.
“Thank ye,” she murmured against his neck.
Col shuddered with barely controlled desire, as he felt the ebbing contractions of her orgasm on his sensitised flesh. How he had not lost it when she hit her peak, he didnae know. He listened to her breathing slow, and braced himself to move her up and offhim. If he didn’t do it now, he’d lose the battle, and loose his seed inside her. The temptation was overpowering.
In the next moment, she confounded him by moving her hips in a sinuous, seductive circle and murmuring in his ear, “Yer turn.”
“Nae, lass, the risk . . . ” After losing Cat and the child together, he’d not risk another woman’s life for his own pleasure.
“I use sponge,” she said, interrupting him.
Her words penetrated his desire-soaked brain, and he groaned as his flesh pulsed. It knew what she meant before he fully comprehended it consciously. Obeying instinct, he surged forward off the edge of the chair, taking her down onto the hearth rug, which smelled of wood smoke, but in his frenzied condition he didn’t care. Pinning her beneath him, he felt her legs go round him as he thrust forward deep and hard.
She surged up into him, meeting his every thrust with a twist of her hips, panting and moaning encouragement. She was insatiable, and he didn’t think he could hold out any longer. His balls were practically blue with aching desire. He found her mouth and kissed her, speeding up his thrusts. Desire, held in check for so long, teased him with throbs of pleasure, and he groaned, pushing himself deeper and harder. Her gown bunch up between them, made him think fleetingly that next time, they’d do this naked and in a bed.
The pleasure escalated, winding tighter and tighter, and she cried out, “Mac!” with a kind of wail, just as he hit the point of no return, and the wave crashed over him, flooding his body with tingling bliss, centred on his cock and radiating outwards in intense waves of pleasure. His grunts and groans went on for a seeming eternity as successive waves of delight gradually wound down until he collapsed on her in a panting heap, his body gone boneless and his mind completely empty.
Eventually, he stirred sufficiently to get an elbow under him and lift his head to look down into her face. She had her eyes closed, and her mouth was curved in a satisfied smile. Her hair had come loose from its pins and scattered round her head in a dark fall. Her pushed-down bodice partially revealed her small breasts, and her thighs had fallen slack either side of his hips.
“Are ye well, lass?” he asked, croaky-voiced.
“Aye,” she said dreamily, her eyes still closed. “Wonderful!” she added. She cracked one eye open and looked at him. “Ye?”
“Aye, lass,” he said with a smile. “Never better.”
