Chapter 31 #2
Tyra tilted her head; her fingers brushed his chest. He caught her wrist gently, sending a thrill through both.
“Ye are… remarkable,” he murmured, voice low. “I have never kenned anyone like ye. Fire and grace all at once.”
She leaned into him. “Then dinnae leave me wondering what that means,” she whispered.
His lips brushed hers in a slow, deliberate kiss, leaving them both trembling. As they parted, the heat between them ignited in a flash of desire that was like thunder and lightning.
Ewan’s hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him. The press of her soft breasts, the beat of her heart, the warmth of her breath – all intoxicating.
“Ye are driving me mad,” he ground out.
“How so?” she asked softly.
“Ye ken what it is between us. It’s ye, all of ye I want in me arms.” he replied, husky with want.
They kissed again, both surrendering to the intensity, their connection forged through every glance, every touch. Tyra threaded her hands through his hair, holding him as if their kiss would never end.
When they drew apart, breathless, the room seemed smaller, warmer, charged with their closeness.
Ewan rested his forehead against hers. “I cannae imagine a day without ye.”
Tyra pressed her lips to his temple. “Then ye must nae.”
They lingered, wrapped in each other’s arms. The castle’s bustle outside seemed distant, held at bay by the bubble of warmth they had created.
Finally, Ewan straightened, but his hands remaining at on her waist. “Taenight, the world can wait. Let us have this precious time together before whatever comes next.”
She looked up, her eyes as dark as moss, and rested her head against him. “’Tis what I wish. I’d nae have it any other way.”
Outside, the wind whispered around the towers. The loch shimmered with faint light, the scent of pine heavy in the air. For that fleeting, precious moment, all that existed was the two of them.
His hands stroked her hair, tangling his fingers in the curling wisps around her cheeks, outlining her jaw, caressing her throat. She clutched his hand.
“What we did together stays in me heart.” She looked up and his eyes were dark as midnight, showing that his desire was as strong as ever. It matched her own.
Taking his hand she led him to the bed, reached up and slid open the velvet drapes.
Feeling the heat rush into her cheeks she turned to him. “I wish us tae lie taegether as we did. I wish tae feel ye inside me again.”
She reached for the buckle on his belt and slipped it open.
He laughed softly. “Och, ‘tis a wee wanton ye’ve become, Lady Mackenzie”
She swatted his shoulder. “And is that nae tae yer liking, Laird Mackenzie? After all, it was ye and yer wicked kissing and fondling that have turned me intae a wild woman.”
The sound he made was nothing less than a growl and his voice was husky when he spoke.
“Aye. ‘Tis very much tae me liking, wild woman. ‘Tis what I’ve dreamed of even when I never dared tae think of such a thing.”
He grabbed her shoulder, turning her, crushing her lips with his mouth in a breathless kiss that shook her to her core and had her melting against him.
“Yet I ne’er believed the wild lass of me dreams was real.”
Laughing, she pulled off his belt and his kilt slipped to his feet, leaving him in only his boots and shirt. Her hand strayed to his hard shaft making a tent of the front of his shirt.
Seizing her in both his arms, he lifted her onto the bed before him. “I’ll nae be naked wi’out ye naked beside me.” After quickly shedding his boots, he reached for the lacing on her dress and pulled it undone, so that the dress was open at the front, the soft nubs of her breasts on display.
He growled again and leaned down, taking one rosy-pink nub in his mouth and one between finger and thumb. He tweaked and suckled her until she cried out and moaned.
His hands found the hem of her gown and raised it to her waist, baring her. She shivered, anticipating what was to come. He bent lower and suckled at her mound, his finger sliding into her slick folds. She writhed under his probing fingers and pulled him up so she could kiss his lips.
“I cannae wait, lad. I’m aching fer wanting ye inside me. Yer fingers are sending me tae that place where the fairies dance and the mad people dwell wi’ flowers in their hair.”
“Ye mean, these wee fingers?” He stroked and teased some more, so that she gritted her teeth and seized his shaft. “That thing of yers is what I want, dinnae tease me more. Ye’ve made me mad wi’ wanting ye Mackenzie, now ye must gi’ me what I ask.”
She arched her back, moving her hips under his hand.
He buried his head at her shoulder where her hair was spread, her braid undone, the ribbons hanging free, and rolled her so that she was above him her knees apart.
“I am yers tae dae whatever ye wish,” he said, as she drew herself up, a hair’s breadth from his upright shaft.
She shifted so that she was sitting over him, sliding down onto what she craved, while his clever, wicked, fingers toyed with the hard little nub between her thighs that brough her so much delight.
It took only the slightest of movement and she was poised over his tip. Straddling him, his shaft between her folds she gasped as she lowered herself, taking in the length of him, looking down at his face in the throes of ecstasy.
He rolled her again so that she was under him, and thrust hard, taking her.
“Ye’ll nae be able tae complain now, lass, that I’ve nae given ye yer heart’s desire.”
She grunted, reaching up for him so that his head came down to meet hers for a fierce kiss that lasted through the coming rapture. She was tipping over the cliff, tumbling through wave after wave of infinite joy, until he joined her, taking his shaft from insider her, to empty into his hand.
When they at last came to their senses, she was frowning.
“I want all of ye, Ewan Macenzie. I am yer woman, and whatever ye fear I’ll risk it all tae have a wean wi’ ye.”