Her knees buckled. She sagged against him, letting his shoulder take her weight as her head tilted back, exposing her neck to his mouth once more. He kissed her just below the ear, and she gasped at the intimacy of it.
It was too much and yet not enough.
“We are lucky it is so late,” he whispered, the sound deep and husky, hot against her ear. “I am going to teach you a lesson, temptress.”
Before she could catch her breath, he scooped her up into his arms.
She made a startled sound—half gasp, half protest—but it was no use. He was already moving, striding up the grand staircase likea man possessed. She curled into him out of instinct, her arms wrapping around his neck, her breathing shallow. He smelled like soap and spice and smoke, like fire and skin and everything that should not make her heart stutter but did.
He carried her down the quiet hall, deeper into the manor, toward his quarters. She had never been there before. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Her limbs trembled with anticipation, thick and intoxicating.
He opened the door to his chambers and carried her inside.
She barely registered the opulence of the room—the heavy gold brocade curtains, the carved fireplace, the massive four-poster bed draped in burgundy velvet—before he laid her down.
The mattress dipped beneath her, and she sank into the softness, breathless, as he knelt beside her.
His hands were on her hips. Large. Hot. Strong.
His gaze pinned her in place, dark and intense, as he pushed her skirts aside, revealing more of her with every breath. She tensed for a moment. There was something reverent in the way he looked at her. Something that made her feel dangerous and wanted all at once.
She was nervous. Eager. Confused. Utterly ready.
The breeze from the window swept across her skin, lifting the fine hairs on her thighs. She shivered.
Then, his mouth replaced the breeze, and the world vanished.
His tongue licked a slow, deliberate path, and her hips jerked involuntarily. He was careful, almost tender, in his exploration, as though he were memorizing her taste.
She felt as though her soul were leaving her body.
She whimpered, tried to close her legs on instinct, feeling too vulnerable, but he caught her thighs and held them open, spreading her gently, firmly, like she was his to feast upon.
“Look at me, temptress,” he growled, his voice tight, almost broken. “I know how badly you need this, and I will lick up every last drop of you.”
Elspeth gasped, clawing at the sheets beneath her. Her thighs parted fully, her body arching in desperate invitation. She felt flushed, ruined, and alive in a way she never had before.
“Show me,” she breathed.
He dove in, and she cried out at the first drag of his tongue. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding on for dear life as her back arched. His mouth worked magic, soft strokes and teasing licks, then harder, wetter pressure. Her hips bucked helplessly, chasing every touch.
He pulled back for a moment, just long enough for her to whimper at the loss. Her sex was throbbing.
She reached for him, mindless with want, but he caught her wrist and held it firmly, his gaze blazing.
“Say my name,” he growled, sliding two fingers deep into her aching heat. “Say it, Elspeth. Now.”
“Hu—Hugo,” she gasped, shuddering as he filled her, his thumb pressing against her most sensitive spot.
“Again.”
“Hugo,” she cried, her voice trembling with urgency as he descended on her again, devouring her with slow, relentless skill.
He sucked and licked, his fingers plunging into her in rhythm with his mouth. The sensation built and built; every nerve, every thought, focused on the growing storm inside her. She clung to him, her legs trembling, the sound of his breathing and hers tangled in the air.
He pushed her higher.
And higher.
