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Chapter Two
The door to my room clicks shut behind us. It's a bloody enormous suite in the Ritz-Carlton, far too large for one man, but I'd meant to stay for a week or two and decided this would be my apartment while I'm away. Besides, I'm used to large spaces. My home in Scotland is rather…sizable. The lass and I stand in a short hallway, beyond which lies a spacious and luxurious living room. Other doorways open off the hall, leading into more rooms. I watch her face while she glances around at what she can see of the suite, her brows rising and her eyes widening, though only for a moment.
I settle my hands on her hips and back her into the wall, my gaze riveted to hers, my body tautening in anticipation of what's to come. During our taxi ride from the bar to the hotel, I'd kissed and fondled the lass until she was virtually melting in my arms. She tastes like nothing I've ever experienced before and feels so good that I want to savor every inch of her body. I roam my hands down to her erse to splay them over her flesh, like I'm branding her body as my property. Well, it does belong to me—for tonight. I mold my body to hers, my stiff cock crushed to her belly.
She cranes her neck back to gaze up at my face, her expression tender and lustful at the same time.
I search her face, wondering for the twentieth time if I should really do this. But I cannae stop now. I massage her erse and grind my hips into her. She rocks her hips forward as if she's craving contact as much as I am. I draw her earlobe into my mouth to suckle and nip at the tender skin, then trace a path down her throat with my lips and tongue.
"I haven't changed my mind," she says. "In case you were wondering."
"Mmmm," I murmur against her skin. "Ahmno doubting ye want me."
"Who are you?"
"Does it matter who I am?" I feather my lips over hers. "We'll have one night and only one night."
Why do I feel so excited by the prospect? I've shagged strangers before, but the thought of shagging this woman excites me more than anything I've ever done in my entire life.
I dive a hand under her T-shirt and sweep it up to close my palm over her breast. When I thumb her nipple, she arches her neck. Bod an Donais, I want her naked right now. Only a thin layer of fabric separates our bodies, but I need her skin on mine. I flick my thumb across her nipple, earning a wee gasp from her that makes my cock throb. I grasp her erse in both hands again while I seal my lips over hers and plow my tongue deep inside, ravishing her mouth with abandon. She moans, the sound muffled by our joined lips, and flings her arms up to encompass my neck, her fingers tunneling into my hair.
Lifting the lass onto her toes, I bring our faces closer and tear my mouth away from hers. A slight pinkness tinges her cheeks, and I'm sure mine look the same. "For you, ahmno rushing. Plan on savoring every moment with ye, my wicked little angel."
She is little compared to me. I tower over most women, which usually makes them uncomfortable. But this lass doesn't seem to mind at all.
I claim her mouth again, devouring it with ravenous swipes of my tongue while I knead her erse, pushing her forward into my waiting erection. She hooks a knee around my thigh, plastering her flesh to my groin. I rub my length into her cleft while the scent of her need overwhelms my senses with its musky, heady aroma. I need to be inside her, but her clothing still shields her body. So I dip my head to her breast and swallow the nipple through her clothing, sucking it hard and fast. She arches her back and clutches my head to her chest. I've saturated her shirt, but I donnae give a toss.
"More," she pleads, her voice throaty. "Oh God, please, more."
A raspy growl rumbles out of me, and I gather her in my arms, carrying the lass into the living room. With heavy-lidded eyes, she glances around the room at the pool table upholstered in crimson felt and the sofa with chairs arranged in front of it, one of them upholstered in the same crimson as the pool table. Her gaze travels further into the room, to the French doors and the terrace outside. She seems a touch surprised by the opulent surroundings.
I set the wicked angel on her feet behind the red armchair and, with my hands on her hips, urge her to lean back against it.
A semitransparent white curtain shields the floor-to-ceiling windows that I'm sure she can see from her position. But then I move between her body and the wall, blocking her view. My erection is tenting my kilt, and the lass gazes at it while licking her lips.
Stepping closer, I cage her to the chair's back with my hands on either side of her body, then I kiss her again—with more passion than I'd intended. This woman will drive me mad for certain. I settle my hands on her hips, tugging her into my body, compelling her to arch into me. She clamps her hands on the chair behind her, those bonnie tits rising and falling with her every labored breath. I nibble at her lower lip, and she sags against me while I skate my lips along her jaw.
"Want ye naked," I breathe into her ear. "Need to bury myself inside yer sweet little body."
Plunging my tongue inside her mouth, I devour her with demanding strokes while I struggle to unbutton my shirt but fumble. She pushes my hands away to take over the task, deftly freeing the buttons while we keep kissing. The second she unhooks the last button, I shrug out of the shirt.
Then I lunge both hands under her shirt, whisking it up her skin. Gooseflesh crops up on her arms. But whether from desire or a chill, I donnae have the brainpower right now to deduce the answer. I peel my lips away for only a second to tug the shirt over her head. I want all of her body, so I unzip her jeans and strip them off her along with the lass's knickers without even hesitating in my ravishing of her mouth, not until I duck my head, meaning to latch onto her nipple.
But I stop, my attention riveted to the twenty-dollar bills sheltered between her breasts, inside her bra. She keeps money in there? Maybe that's what she'd been doing earlier, in the bar, when I watched her adjusting something inside her shirt. I cannae help smiling a little, because I have never before known a woman who kept twenty-dollar bills in her lingerie. I hook one finger inside her bra to pull it out just enough that I can peer down into the space between her breasts.
I raise my head, lifting one brow at her.
She shrugs. "Don't like to carry a purse in crowded places."
My cheeks feel tight, and I think I might be smiling more than a moment ago. She is the strangest, most adorable lass I've ever met. I pluck the folded-up bills out of her bra and toss them onto the table beside the chair, then move my arms behind her to unhook her bra. The last piece of her clothing flutters to the floor, near my feet.
I take one step back and allow myself a moment to admire her nude body, from her delicate throat down to the nipples that jut out from her full breasts, and across her flat belly with its perfect navel, then lower to the hairs on her mound and the sensual curve of her hips and thighs. I run my tongue over my lips. She is more than bonnie. She's the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.
Her gaze lands on my chest, and though her attention wanders down to my groin, she can't see anything with my kilt still covering my hips and thighs.
I unfasten the leather belt that prevents my kilt from falling off. With a swift tug, I shed the plaid. It settles into a heap on the rug.
The lass pulls in a shaky breath while she roves her gaze over the part of myself I've unveiled for her. She seems to like what she sees, considering that she bites her bottom lip and her eyes drift half-closed. She's fixated on my cock. It sways before me, curving up toward my belly, and the head glistens with moisture. I'm in this state because of her, because I need to quench my lust inside that beautiful body.
