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Chapter Three
No, I am not done with this woman. I haven't sunk my cock deep inside her body yet. I've already spent more time giving her pleasure than I ever have with another woman, but I can't stop until I've felt her come all over my slat. Lying on my side, I let myself appreciate her body one more time, admiring every curve and swell and dip until I'm sure I've memorized every inch of her skin.
I rest my hand on her collarbone, fanning my fingers over her throat.
Her eyes are half-closed, and her lips curl up a wee bit as if she loves my touch.
Christ, I love touching her. She's more responsive than any woman I've bedded before.
I smooth my hand down the center of her chest, over one breast and then the other, rolling her nipples between my thumbs. Dragging my hand down to her belly, I swirl my palm around her navel. She takes short, gasping breaths while her belly rises and falls in time with her inhalations. With my gaze, I track the path of my hand as I move it over her skin, so focused on the task that I compress my lips. My hand ventures lower, but when it dips to within millimeters of her mound, I sweep it over to cup her hip while massaging the hollow with my thumb.
Her lids flutter closed.
Sighing, I skate my hand down her thigh and over her knee to skim it along the side of her calf and past her slender ankle. Afflicted with a need to touch her everywhere, even in places where I've never touched another woman, I dance my fingers over the top of her foot and around to the sole, making the lass squirm. Already I've learned she wriggles like that when she fancies what I'm doing to her, so I rub her sole with deliberate strokes while I imagine what it might be like to spend an entire night with this woman, running my hands over her skin and pushing her toward one climax after another.
No, I will not stay the night. It's against my rules.
I shift my hand to her other foot, relishing her responses when I knead the sole with leisurely motions.
She exhales a breathy moan, every muscle in her body slackening.
But I cannae stop myself. I glide my hand up the inside of her leg until I reach her inner thigh. Then I graze my longest finger across the outer folds of her cleft, hauling in a long breath and letting it out on a groan that embodies all my carnal desires for this woman. "Yer scent drives me mad, it's like whisky and honey and musk." I comb my fingertips through those curly, silken hairs. "The scent of lust."
She opens her eyes, though they seem unfocused.
I hover my head over the flesh below those hairs while I coast my hand down her thigh, then slide it back up slowly.
The lass fists her hands in the sheets.
What is her name? I want to know, but I will never ask. That's another of my rules.
I curl my hand around her thigh and press my lips to her belly. Even her skin tastes like every decadent flavor ever invented. I kiss a damp trail up to her breasts, pausing there to nuzzle my face between them.
She flattens her palms on my back.
I dart my tongue out to moisten the peak of one nipple.
"Yes," she murmurs while her fingers sink into my flesh.
Taking one nipple into my mouth, I coil my tongue around the tip again and again, my cock jumping when she gasps and jerks as if the pleasure I'm giving her has hit her as powerfully as a lightning strike. I release her stiff peak, only to latch onto the other and repeat the process. She plows her hands into my hair while I give up her nipple so I can lie beside her again, my head near hers and my hand resting on her hip. I pull her snug against me, roll the lass onto her side, and tuck her head under my chin. Why am I snuggling with her? I never do that, but for reasons I can't comprehend, I want to feel as close to her as possible. I move my hand off her hip and down to her thigh, lifting her leg to expose her folds.
She stretches an arm over my torso as if to hold me close.
I hook her leg over mine, spreading my palm on her erse, and draw her toward me until my slat brushes her flesh. My pulse beats fast enough to pound in my ears, and I have trouble catching my breath, but I cannae think about what that means, not anymore. The need has grown too intense, obliterating everything else. I push inside her with one slow, smooth stroke, feeling her flesh stretch to conform to my cock until I'm seated deep within her body.
"All right?" I rumble in her ear.
She buries her face against my neck. "Yes. Don't stop."
"Willnae."
I grip her erse and begin to thrust in a controlled rhythm, struggling to keep the pace unhurried while I plunge inside her, only to retreat again, over and over until the lass is clinging to me and whimpering against my neck. I drive in and pull out, reveling in the sensations of her hot flesh around mine, the softness of her channel, the flexing of her thigh muscles, and so many other things that I can't focus on anymore. I blow out a breath with every thrust and suck in a breath every time I withdraw from her heat.
The lass locks her leg tighter around mine, pawing at my back as if wordlessly begging for more.
Bod an Donais, I need more, need all of her. I roll us both over so she lies flat on her back with my body above her, and I hold myself up with one straight arm. Then I whisk my free hand up and down her side, from her ribs down to her thigh, desperate to feel every inch of her even while I maintain the relentless rhythm of my thrusts. I bend my supporting arm to lower my head near hers, our foreheads touching. The mesmerizing color of her eyes draws me in and refuses to let me go, even while she rolls her hips up to meet my cock, opening her legs wider.
"Ah, lass," I groan. "Come for me now, come for me again."
