Page 93

Isla closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh.

“Is this good, little rebel?”

“Aye,” she breathed.

He dipped the cloth again and ran it over her breasts, the touch featherlight. The moment the cloth grazed her nipples, she moaned.

“Alisdair…”

He lowered his lips to her ear. “Am I cleanin’ ye well?”

“Aye.” Isla arched into his touch.

He nipped her ear as he ran the cloth over her nipples again, teasing them. His other hand trailed down her stomach to the top of her thighs.

He rose and stepped around her, before kneeling between her legs. Isla looked down at him with bewilderment as he pried her legs open. Water splashed on the floor as he squeezed the cloth, trying to control himself. Then he lifted her leg and washed her foot, drawing circles over her ankle.

Isla gasped and shivered.

“Is it cold?” he asked, looking up at her with hooded eyes.

“The… the opposite.”

Alisdair chuckled as he cleaned both her legs. He ran the cloth up the inside of her thighs, and she fisted her hands in the covers, biting her lip. He lowered his head between her legs.

“Perhaps I should be more thorough,” he purred.

He threw the cloth away and replaced it with his lips. He trailed soft kisses up her shins to her inner thighs, his wide shoulders nudging her legs wider.

“Alisdair,” she breathed, her fingers sliding into his hair.

He bit back a groan at the sight of her wet folds. “I want to taste ye, Isla.”

“T-Taste me?” Isla was lost in a haze, eyes glazed with desire, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

Alisdair pressed his nose against her and breathed in her sweet, musky scent. He couldn’t hold back anymore. His tongue darted out and licked her.

“Alisdair!”

He didn’t stop. Her thighs trembled as he worked her slowly. When the tip of his tongue flicked over her nub, she bit her lip and tried to close her legs.

“Mm,” he hummed against her. “Ye taste so good. Let me have all of ye, little rebel.”

He looked up from between her legs, and the sight he met with almost undid him. Isla, bathed in the light of the dawn, her chest heaving, her blue eyes dark with a desire that matched his own.

He dove back between her legs. Every lick earned him a sigh, deeper each time. His tongue ribbed circles around her nub, and her hips bucked, but he held her down.

“Alisdair!”

She clenched her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. He hummed in satisfaction against her. If his wife wanted more, he would oblige her.

His fingers slid through her wet folds. He teased her entrance, all while stroking her with his tongue, and she moaned. Then he slowly slid one finger inside her.

She gasped at the invasion. He kept lapping at her until she relaxed and her hips rose to meet him. He smiled against her.

“Ye like it, wife?”

“Mm,” she breathed.