“Darragh,” she gasped, tossing her head back when he hooked his fingers up, pushing against nerve endings that seemed to drive her crazy.
He focused his ministrations in that same spot, watching the way her throat worked around a whine. Leaning in and pressing his lips to her collarbones, he brought his thumb to the nub just above her folds. The reaction it brokered was so loud that if anyone were passing by, they’d surely know what was happening.
“Let me hear ye, lass,” he groaned, inserting another finger.
Amelia pushed herself forward again, a litany of things he couldn’t quite catch on her tongue. He didn’t let her search for his mouth long, claiming her lips once more. This time, her movement was frantic, imprecise.
It wassomuch more compelling. This woman had been nothing but controlled since they’d met, and now, he was taking that facade apart with nothing more than his fingers between her legs.
He felt her center flutter around him at the same time that her cries began to grow in pitch. With a smirk, he leaned in, capturing her mouth once more. She couldn’t keep up with the fervor of his claiming, her tongue pressing against his with a kind of desperation that made it clear she was close to teetering over the edge.
“Let go, lass,” he commanded, leaning back so he could watch the symphony of pleasure dance across her face.
Amelia’s entire body tensed all at once, the tightness around his fingers clenching. Then, her face went slack. A low, wild whine sounded as she shook in his hold.
Her fingers tightened in his doublet as she held onto him. A new wave of her climax slammed into her, and her eyes fluttered open and closed. His own arousal ached, pressing against the front of his trews, demanding he claim Amelia in every sense of the word.
“That’s it,” he praised as she exhaled sharply with the force of her unbearable pleasure. “I’ve got ye, lass.”
“Darragh,” she whimpered, jerking back slightly as the pleasure tipped over into overstimulation.
With great difficulty, he removed his fingers from inside her wet warmth. She shuddered at the loss, her hands tightening and loosening where they were still fisted in his shirt. It took everything in him to take a step away.
“I have to stop here, lass,” he said, resting his forehead against hers, keeping as much distance as he could stand between his hips and the alluring softness of her thigh. When he spoke again, his voice was still rough and uneven. “If I stay longer, I willnae stop meself. I cannae.”
She nodded, her breath shaky as he stepped away. There was still a dream-like quality to her expression, her eyes glazed over with the depth of her delight. Her hands fell away from his biceps, hanging limply at her sides.
“Tomorrow is the hunt,” he said softly. “Let us finish that feast… and then…” He reached out, cradling her cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed the downy skin just below her eye. “Then, I’ll teach ye more.”
He didn’t let her go until she nodded in understanding. There was something strange, conflicted, about the way she watched him. He held her gaze, trying to decipher all of the things that were playing through her mind as he took another measured step back.
“I’ll leave ye with the candle,” he said, giving her a final decisive nod.
As he left, he could feel the confusion, pleasure, and vulnerability rolling off Amelia in waves. Each step he took down the narrow servants’ stairway felt wrong on a fundamental level. When he reached the landing, he forced himself to keep a brisk pace back to his chambers.
If I linger too long, I’ll take meself back to her and won’t leave until she kens exactly who she belongs to.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Laird Fraser.”
Darragh turned away from his conversation with Ewan. His gaze swept over the man in front of him with the scar on his lip and the serious black eyes. He stepped toward the man, giving him a welcoming smile.
“Laird MacLeod,” Darragh said, grabbing onto the man’s hand in greeting. “I’m pleased to see ye made it. The ride wasnae too difficult?”
“Ran into bandits as we were ridin’ east, but it was nothin’ me men couldnae handle,” Laird MacLeod said. “I’m quite relieved that Madison had nae interest in leavin’ the castle. Said somethin’ about some pastry she’s been tryin’ to perfect.”
Darragh chuckled under his breath. “Amelia is fond of helpin’ me cook as well, and I doubt Madison would have enjoyed herself. There arenae many Ladies in attendance.”
“And is Amelia doin’ well with everythin’?” Laird MacLeod asked, dropping his voice lower. “Laird McGowan informed us that ye found a last victim of the hunt. Has she been adjustin’?”
“She’s been adjustin’ as well as one can expect her to.” Darragh’s eyes flitted to where Amelia stood in the courtyard. Isla was at her side, chattering about something that she must have felt was very important.
“Ach, that’s a fair point,” Laird MacLeod said sympathetically. “Madison took so long to trust anyone that I wasnae sure she’d be able to ever again. And I cannae say that I’d blame her for doin’ so.”
Darragh’s eyes stayed on Amelia. She was even more beautiful in the sunlight than she was last night in the flickering glow of the candles. There was a stiffness in the way she stood, but she was smiling, laughing at something Isla said. The fact that she’d allowed herself to be forced into attendance was a milestone that he hadn’t thought possible when he first saw her in that tower.
“They’re doin’ what they can to defend themselves,” he said, finally returning his attention to Laird MacLeod. “I cannae say I always understand it, though.”
