“Good, Mac.”
He panted and, unable to resist, drove into her a few times. “Felt very good to me,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
“Hmm.” She pushed up into him, writhing, and he stilled, pushing down against her, knowing she was going to take her second orgasm. Pulses of pleasure from his cock made him groan again as she writhed and squeezed and panted and moaned.
The flutter of her flesh and her moan of pleasure told him she’d reaped a second, sparking an agonisingly pleasurable contraction in his balls and a flare of heat in the base of his spine.
“Fook, lass, ye’d better be quick if ye want another, my cock’s about to explode!” He groaned again, desperately trying to hold onto his control. A wave of pleasure pulsed through him but, miraculously, his seed stayed put.
He closed his eyes, breathing and holding still as she moved again, chasing a third orgasm. Fook, it felt good when she did that. Feeling her come was exquisite torture. She was building again; he could feel it. His own breathing became ragged as he wrestled the need to fuck her—hard. He held off, and held off, his body thrumming with the need, tight hot desire in his groin.
“Aihan!” he gasped, losing the battle. His hips moved in spite of himself, driving into her with a hard, fast stroke, again and again and again. He groaned, helpless in the grip of desire to swamp the senses, as the rising wave crested and dumped himhard on the other side with a coruscating pleasure that made him shake, groan, and grunt like a beast.
He collapsed on her, panting, and when conscious thought returned, he said into her neck, “Fook that was good, sorry I couldn’t hold it any longer.” His back was throbbing a bit, but he didn’t care. The blissful aftermath was too good.
“It’s fine, Mac,” she murmured. “Ye made me come too.”
“Hm,” he grunted happily.
Eventually he moved, flopping onto his stomach, and they rearranged themselves for sleep.
Aihan watched him fall asleep and rubbed her thighs together, feeling the sticky evidence of their joining. Sex with Mac was so satisfying. They seemed to know how to please each other with minimal talk, and she found him so irresistible that just looking at him could get her wet if she was in the right mood. Certainly, if he kissed her, she was guaranteed to be ready to take him into her as soon as he wanted.
For all that, he was the most generous lover she’d ever known. He would spend far longer than necessary to prepare her if she didn’t stop him, and was happy to make her come repeatedly with his mouth and his hand, as well as his cock.
It was getting harder and harder to think of leaving. Not that she would while he was still injured. His wounds had given her another excuse to put off the inevitable. And the boys gave her pause too. She couldn’t pretend they didn’t mean something to her. Rory, with his intensity and latent strength, would be a formidable man one day, and so would Cam with his quick mind and sensitivity.
Even young Wee, with his silent appreciation of her cooking and, she suspected, his dry sense of humour had wormed his way into her affections. He didn’t say a lot. Or at least he didn’tsay much that she could understand, since he spoke Gaelic and little English, and she spoke some English and no Gaelic except the odd word she had divined through Mac’s use of it. But even with the language barrier, she felt the pull of his need for mothering as keenly as the others.
It was hard with Mac injured, because she couldn’t hug him or curl up in his arms to sleep as she had grown accustomed to doing. She missed it. She had been glad he had initiated sex tonight; she’d missed that as well.
His cock was magnificent and fittingly large in keeping with the rest of him. But if she was honest, she was drawn to him now by much tighter bonds than just the undoubtedly strong physical attraction between them. Despite their dramatically different backgrounds, somehow, they felt right together. Why or how that was possible she didn’t know, but she knew it was true, and she thought he knew it too, although they hadn’t discussed it. And they probably shouldn’t if she was going to leave. For to bring all that out into the open would make leaving all the harder. Better to leave it unsaid.
She sighed softly, and a strange feeling of happiness and sadness tugged at her. Happiness to be here in his bed, sadness at the prospect of it ending. She had best make the most of it while she could do so.
She settled, getting as close to him as possible—he was a prodigious source of heat and comfort—while being careful not to hurt him. She closed her eyes and composed herself to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Alex returned from Edinburgh, he called to let Col know he had put out the request from information on ships going to China and hoped he might have something next week when he went back to Edinburgh.
By the end of the week, Col was so much better he decided to take Rory on a tour of the tenant farms. The day was an unqualified success; Rory was a hit with the tenants, who were delighted to welcome him and treated him with a deference that made him blush, much to Col’s secret amusement. Not that he let it show that he had noticed his son’s embarrassed delight. The boy was too young to be teased about such things, and Col was afraid to bring back the truculence of earlier. He liked being on good terms with his heir.
He was pleased to see Rory eager to lend a hand when it was needed, too. The lad lifted a heavy burden for a tenant’s wife and helped her into the cart she was off to market in, and then pitched in to raise a fence blown over in a squall a week ago and aided with its restumping.
When they returned tired and hungry, it was to find Aihan and Callum in his study surrounded by books. Callum was teaching Aihan to read and write, for which his old wax tabletand slate had been pressed into service. He’d kept his, whereas Rory had lost his, probably accidentally on purpose.
With their arrival home, Aihan headed to the kitchen and Callum tidied away the books. After dinner that evening, they did something they had never done before: play cards. All of them, including Fergus and Willy.
Aihan came to his room when he was washing and rubbed oil into his back to stop the healing wounds from itching.
Slipping sideways off his buttocks, she lay down beside him. “Roll onto your side.”
He obeyed, rolling towards her, and she took his cock in her oiled hand and stroked it slowly. He closed his eyes and moved his hips. “That is so guid,” he said on a sigh that was half a groan.
Her hand slid up and down, twisting round the head exposed from his foreskin, her thumb rubbing along the sensitive rim of the crown. She leaned forward, her lips connecting with his, and he put out a hand to cup the back of her head and kissed her deeply.This, he thought muzzily,this is heaven. What have I done to deserve this?
He moved his other hand down to touch her between her legs, stroke her, give her pleasure. She lifted her leg over his hip to help him, and they lay face to face, pleasuring each other with their hands and kissing. Their hips moved in synchrony with the stroking of their fingers and the exchange of increasingly passionate kisses.
