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Her arms circled his thick neck, his other one laced her waist, and in seconds they locked in a searing embrace.
Their tongues pursued one another, met, tangled, untangled, re-entangled in a dance of a time past the druids.
Her body flush on him, she rose on tiptoes to reach for more. Hunger ruled unconstrained. And demanded release.
Suddenly, her back met the wall by the door. His muscled frame pressing on her, his both hands bracing the stones beside her head as he curved down on her, kissing her further. Her head lifted upper to him, the need in her rising ungovernable.
His bristle square jaw came up, both panting, their breaths mixing in the darkened room, where only the fire burned in the fireplace.
“You cast a spell on me, witch!” He rasped, eyes merged down on hers. “I cannot even eat for the want of you.”
“It was you, you troglodyte.” She murmured.
After a faint smirk, his impossibly sensuous mouth came down on hers anew and they grubbed on each other as if this might be the last night of the world.
He lifted her by her narrow waist and, instinctively, her legs surrounded him, her dress bunching around the top of her thighs. His turn to grunt as his tumescent erection met her eager centre through an unnecessary tartan.
Transported to the bed, he placed one knee on it and they lay clutched on the fluffy
mattress, her hair spreading on the pillow.
Her hands sneaked under his shirt to find hot muscles flexing with his movements. He smelled of earth and man and desire. She wanted his skin on hers, touching everywhere. Her hands managed to unwrap part of the red and black plaid, availing more of his hair peppered frame to her.
Conspicuous lips ceased the kiss as he came up and his deft hands started undressing her as she took the opportunity to do the same.
Magnificent, all of him. Perfect. A powerful warrior from the night of times.
When she came naked, spread on his bed, Taran lost any sense of where he was or when. Anything that might remotely relate to clear thought disappeared.
The most beautiful woman lay on his mattress. His eyes roamed her chestnut strands, translucent skin, round breasts, tiny waist and hips flaring to drive him crazy.
He dived to ravine her mounds as she cradled him between her legs. And he came home.
They spun out of control too fast. Her curious hands did not make it any easier, caressing, exploring, discovering. And elevating his temperature to breaking point.
As she found his erection, a jolt of electricity took him to hell with a tint of heaven.
“No, Aileen!” He pinned her hands over her head. “You are going to finish me in seconds.” Hoarse, on the last of his forces.
“Damn you, Taran!” She protested before he covered her mouth with a carnal kiss that made nothing better.
Her legs tightened around him, her spine arched into him as she begged for satisfaction. The woman did not relent.
Leaving her lips, ragged breath, boiling blood, insane starvation, he filled his mouth with one round breast and his hand with the other, never getting enough of her. Her moan threw him in a pit fire. He descended and reached the femininity, hot, moist. Ready.
Buidy hell!
And tasted paradise. Again.
At last.
By then, he trembled with the effort of restraining himself as he tongued her with gusto. She was so on the edge, she screamed his name in a matter of seconds. She quivered, and he wore her out until she fell on the mattress dazed.
He returned over her to brace his elbows by her sides, uneven breath. He could wait no longer.
His hazy mind forced him to go slow even if the tempest in him demanded he take her hard and fast. Whole body corded in tension, he feared he was not going to make it.
Breath suspend, she lay expectant.
