With every breath, every kiss, shivers glided over her limbs, firing like arrows from a thousand bows.
Ian kissed her softly, then urged her to sit up. “I need to get ye out of this dress. I want to feel your skin. All of ye.”
Rhiannon nodded and lifted on her knees, turning around for him to unlace her gown. Guiding her hands to the headboard to hold on as she knelt on the bed, and he moved behind her. With nimble fingers, he unlaced her, following the removal of each piece of clothing with a soft kiss on her exposed skin. He unlaced her boots and unrolled her hose, tickling the arch of her feet. When he was done, his coarse hands spanned her waist, stroking her flesh.
“I love your skin. It’s so soft,” he whispered against her throat.
Rhiannon sighed, every part of her shivering with excitement. A twinge of some deeper, delicious sensation clutched at her core. A desire to be with him, to feel his sensual touch.
Rhiannon clutched the headboard while Ian explored her naked back with his fingers and lips. He slid a path down her spine to the place at the top of her buttocks, and she sucked in a breath. Coarse palms cupped the globes of her bottom, massaging, and she bit her lip as pleasure coursed through her.
“Stunning.” His mouth followed the path of her spine until he reached her neck, then turned her chin slightly to capture her lips in a searing kiss.
Rhiannon gave him all of herself, whimpering when he caressed the sides of her breasts. Her nipples were taut, tingling knots. A primal hunger took hold, moving her body in ways she couldn’t have conjured in her wildest dreams. Her hips pushed back, seeking the hardness of his body, the thickness of his arousal. The bare skin of her buttocks met the scratchy wool of his plaid. She wanted him to be rid of his clothes too.
Rhiannon turned around, wrapping her arms around Ian’s neck and kissed him deeply, hungrily. “Ye’re still dressed,” she teased, plucking at his plaid.
Ian unpinned his plaid, letting the fabric fall from his shoulder. Then he crossed his arms over his middle and lifted his leine over his head, revealing inch after inch of muscle and sinew.
Rhiannon reached for him. Touching, exploring as he’d done to her, marveling at the contrast of their skin. She slid her palms over his chest with the soft sprinkle of hair, down his abdomen to the line of hair trailing beneath his plaid. She hooked a finger around his belt but then froze as his touch traced along her belly and lower.
Rhiannon’s head fell back as the pads of Ian’s fingers slipped over her slickened folds, finding the knot of flesh. He rubbed in delicious circles, sending heady ripples through her center.
She wobbled on her knees, clutching at his shoulders for balance.
“Lie down.”
Rhiannon did as he demanded, watching as Ian undid his belt, pulling off his plaid.
Rhiannon licked her lips at the sight of his arousal. Long. Thick. Hard. It jutted from between his hips, reaching for her, and she wanted very much to accept the invitation.
“I want to…touch you,” she said.
Ian’s smile was wolfish, and her head felt fuzzy with desire. He gripped her hand and tugged it toward his arousal, her fingers brushing the velvet tip. He shuddered, pleasure washing over his handsome features as she stroked him.
Rhiannon explored further, admiring that he was both hard and soft at the same time. Caressing up and down his length, she wrapped her fingers around the shaft and gave a little tug.
Her husband grabbed her hand, a groan on his lips. “No more.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I like it too much.” And then he was kissing her, rubbing between her legs with his expert touch until she was gasping and losing all thought.
He traced a line down her neck to her breasts with his tongue, swirling the tip around one nipple until she groaned and dug her nails into his bare shoulder. He continued to work his fingers between her legs, rubbing, pushing inside her, until she was writhing, clutching him, her hips undulating in rhythm with his taunting, until pleasure gripped her in a climax.
“Ian!” she cried out, panting in delight.
“Och, lass, I love the way ye come undone with my touch.”
Ian slid down her body, pushing apart her knees. Her thighs still trembled from her release, and she watched the hungry expression on his face as he spied her most sensitive, secret place. And then he lowered himself and licked her. There.
Rhiannon cried out with pleasure once more, her back arching, hips rising to meet the languid strokes of his tongue. Lovemaking was so decadent.
The more his tongue licked with wicked purpose over her heated flesh, the more she fell apart and the harder it was to breathe.
When her body peaked once more, she squeezed her thighs against his head, her fingers diving into his hair.
“My, oh my, you are good at that.”
