I peeked up at him with a wicked grin as his kilt fell open.
“I thought mayhap I could pleaseyou.”
“Dinnae fash,” he scoffed, scooping me into his arms. “’Tis my responsibility to pleaseye, lass.”
His lips found my jaw, and as I wriggled against him, the rest of his kilt fell away and my skin pressed against his.
“And I think ye deserve all sorts of pleasure.”
“’Tis true,” I sighed. “I have been averragood lass.”
His chuckle warmed me as much as his hands and lips did.
Kragorn’s hands caressed my body with a reverence that always made me feel cherished. His touch was gentle yet possessive, tracing familiar paths over my skin as if it were a sacred ground. I sighed into his embrace, allowing myself to melt against him, my fingers playing with the loose strands of his hair.
I no longer saw his scars or his dead eye, courtesy of my father. Those things weren’t Kragorn, any more than my twisted foot definedme. Kragorn was strong and noble and wise and—most importantly—mine.
His lips moved from my jaw to my neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that sent shivers down my spine. I could feel the warmth of his breath, the slight scrape of his tusks against my sensitive skin, and it was a delicious contrast to the tenderness of his touch.
Suddenly, swiftly, he scooped me up into his arms and carried me to our bed. Once such a motion would have surprised me, causing me to gasp. Now I just chuckled low and pressed trustingly against him. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the candles casting dancing shadows on the walls. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my cheek against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
He lay me down gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving mine. The look in his eye was one of pure adoration and desire, and it sent a rush of heat through my veins. His hands began to explore my body once more, cupping my breasts, thumbing my nipples until they hardened beneath his touch.
“Ye are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, my wee Mate,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that echoed through me. “Every inch of ye, every curve, is mine to cherish and worship.”
His lips followed the path of his hands, kissing every inch of skin as if it were precious. He trailed kisses down my body, whispering words of praise and love. Each touch, each word, sent waves of satisfaction through me, stoking the fire within.
When he reached the apex of my thighs, he paused, looking up at me with a wicked smile.
“Spread these legs for me, love,” he commanded softly, his hands gripping my thighs.
I allowed him to push my legs apart, feeling exposed just as I had been that first time, five years ago, the night Dragnor was conceived. Just like that night, the sensation of vulnerability sent a spike of excitement through me and my breath quickened. Kragorn’s grip on my thighs was firm, holding me open as if I were on display for him alone.
Then he lowered his mouth.
“Ye taste like the sweetest honey, love,” Kragorn growled, his tongue circling my sensitive bud with a skill honed over years of loving me. I gasped, my hips bucking against his mouth as the pressure built. His grip on my thighs tightened, holding me in place as he feasted on me, his tongue and lips working in tandem to drive me wild.
“Kragorn,” I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as I ground my hips against his face. His name on my lips was a plea, a prayer, a promise. He knew my body better than I did, knew how to play it like a finely tuned instrument. Each stroke of his tongue, each nip of his teeth, sent me spiraling closer to the edge.
“That’s it, my wee human,” he murmured against my flesh, his voice vibrating through me. “Ride my tongue, take yer pleasure from me.” His words were crude, filthy, and I loved them.
His tongue delved deeper, his ridges adding an extra layer of sensation that had me gasping. I could feel my orgasm building, a storm on the horizon, ready to consume me. And then, just as I was about to tumble over the edge, he slid two thick fingers inside me, curling them to hit that spot that made me whimper.
“Come for me, love,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Let me taste yer release.”
And I did. With a cry that echoed through the room, before I slapped my hand over my mouth, I came undone, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over me. Kragorn never stopped, his tongue and fingers working me through my orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure as I writhed and bucked and moaned against my palm, hoping not to wake our lads in the next room.
My Mate knew me well enough to know my fear. He was chuckling when he lifted himself—his jaw shining obscenely with my release—and wrapped his fingers around my wrist to pull my hand away from my mouth.
“Our sons are tired enough to sleep through any sound their mother might make,” he explained, pulling me toward the edge of the bed so he could settle between my quivering thighs. “Dinnae deprive me of the sound of my Mate’s pleasure.”
I couldn’t think coherently enough to answer him, truth be told. Instead, I wound my fingers through his as he braced himself on either side of my head, the tip of his ridged cock probing at my entrance. My breathing was already erratic in anticipation?—
And then he slid into me, and I gasped and arched my back as my second orgasm rolled over me.
Five years of making love to Kragorn, and I didn’t think I’d ever get used to this sensation of the instant climax. I loved it—sometimes I thought ‘twas my favorite part of the entire affair.
But then he began to move, sliding those ridges gently in and out of me, and I changed my mind about thefavorite part.
