"I am well," she murmured, pulling back gently.
"I ken it. You're a strong woman." The delicious deep timbre of his voice near entranced her.
During a flare of lightning, she witnessed the admiration in his eyes. Why on earth would he look at her in such a way? Surely, her strength was naught compared to his.
In the darkness between flashes, he lowered his mouth to hers and claimed her lips. He cradled her cheek gently against his roughened fingers.
Her eyes slid closed and, even though she knew she should jerk herself away from his masculine allure, his enticing mouth robbed her of all thought. As his tongue flicked against her upper lip, her mind ceased to function. What wickedness was he unleashing upon her? Was this what it was supposed to feel like to be illicit?
She found her arms reaching up to encircle his neck and he shockingly clasped his hands around her thighs and lifted her against the wall. Her instincts ignited, she wrapped her legs around his waist. All the while, he captivated her with his relentless kisses. He tasted of divine forceful male with a hint of peaty whisky. His hands supported her derriere, drawing her tight against his prominent erection.
Heavens! Never had an aroused male appealed at all. But now, she felt she might perish on the spot if she couldn't have him. She was shocked at her own moans of desperation. What madness was consuming her?
He lifted her gently, then drew her down again, so that her most sensitive parts rode along his thick ridge of male arousal. She clasped her fists into his hair and locked her ankles together behind his back. She devoured every deep kiss he offered her, gasping with need.
"Cyrus," she hissed.
Pulling back a bit, he dragged her smock up her thighs. "Elspeth. Tell me."
"Aye." Her heart pounded hard. "Take me." She had never before asked for a man's attention. Had never wanted to.
He tugged at his plaid, drawing the material upward. The bare, feverish skin of his shaft burned against her. Groaning, he prodded at her, stroked her, teased at her heated moisture, driving her mad with craving him.
"Now," she breathed against his lips between kisses.
Moaning, he surged upward into her. She cried out at the shocking breach, arching backward. Not pain exactly, but she had not been prepared for his size. He withdrew a fraction, making her frantic for more. She dug her nails into his shoulders.
With a guttural rasp, he buried himself inside her. Lifting her, he latched his lips onto her nipple through the fabric of her smock. He surged deeper and deeper with each thrust of his hips, setting a rhythm that was both animalistic and beyond the earthly realm. She had never felt anything so wicked and heavenly at the same time. The pleasure was near overwhelming.
A great swirl of tingles spun inside her, round and round, growing brighter and hotter with each moment until it exploded like a bottle of whisky shattered within a bonfire. She screamed against the near painful ecstasy, then found his mouth covering hers, devouring her lips. She rode out wave after wave of the most exquisite pleasure she could've ever imagined. At the last moment, he withdrew, and she felt the hot splash of his seed against her lower belly. Nay! She wanted to shake him. Emptiness echoed through her. Though she knew he'd been right to spare her the risk.
"Saints! I've gone mad in truth." Despite his self-deprecating words, he kissed her gently on the lips.
"As have I." What the devil was she doing having illicit relations with him?
"I won't apologize."
"I don't want you to." Nay, mayhap she should kick herself, but she wouldn't. It had been a delectable new experience for her, something she'd wanted more than her next breath. She could not have denied herself that extreme pleasure. Although it made no sense.
Still breathing hard, he carried her to the narrow bed in the corner and lay down beside her.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
"Resting for a minute." He kissed her forehead.
Aye, Cyrus but wanted to hold onto the exquisite encounter for another minute or two. He had never felt anything so stunning.
Hell, what was he doing? He did not ken, but he could not release her as of yet. 'Twas as if a lodestone held him magnetically against her. Drawing away would be painful.
He wrapped his arms around her, absorbing her soft curves and slight frame. She felt so right and comforting next to him.
Sudden exhaustion dazing his mind, he listened to the low rumble of thunder as the storm moved away toward the east. The rain tapping against the glass and Elspeth's soft breaths warming his throat, he had never felt so relaxed in his life.
Sometime later, he awoke to quiet darkness. He remembered instantly where he was and who lay next to him. Elspeth turned over, away from him, leaving a couple of inches of space between them. One arm around her, he snuggled up to her back, burying his face in her unbound curls to draw in her unique and alluring fragrance.
He did not want to think. Logic and reasoning were repugnant to him at the moment. He merely wanted to immerse himself in Elspeth, explore her with all his senses. He drew her back tight against his torso. At her soft, warm feel and tantalizing scent, arousal surged, tingling through his shaft, making him hard as granite.
Through his plaid and her smock, he pressed himself firmly against the enticing curves of her hips. After pulling the material out of the way in his fist, he reveled in the heated skin to skin contact.
