CHAPTER TEN #3
His face pressed to her ear, he murmured, “Hold on tight.” And he thrust hard and deep.
Wet, hot, huge strength. Claire gasped, blinded by having Malcolm finally inside of her, stretching her wide.
His size was shocking, and she felt the power bursting from his erection.
Claire felt a violent climax begin, making the first one pitiful in comparison, rolling over her in greater and greater waves.
Pleasure escalated impossibly, until there was only mindless ecstasy, spasm after spasm, as he slowly and deliberately moved his massive length and breadth inside her. He gasped and she sobbed and keened.
Malcolm began thrusting with real urgency.
The waves kept building. Claire thought she might die.
This must be what he had been talking about, pleasure in death.
She was shattering over and over in a black universe of ecstasy and she was never coming out.
She didn’t want to ever return to reality again.
Malcolm gasped. She felt him expand, lengthen, explode. Hot seed scalded, going deep. And it didn’t stop…
Claire did not know how long she had been in the throes of either multiple orgasms or a single endless one, but at some far point in time, her body finally softened, giving up its greedy grasp on pleasure, and she began to float back into Malcolm’s arms. He kissed her cheek.
Still dazed, she realized he remained hard and engorged, his entire body shaking, as if he hadn’t come.
But that was impossible—except—she wasn’t imagining things.
In fact, unless time moved differently here, she was beginning to think his orgasm had been extraordinary in duration, as well.
He kissed her cheek again and Claire realized she rode his waist, her back pinned to the rough rampart wall. And to make matters even more interesting, her body was warming to his once more as he impaled her still.
“Let me take ye to my bed, Claire,” he murmured in the sexiest tone she had ever heard.
Desire flamed. “We don’t need a bed,” she said thickly. She could not manage even the briefest separation.
And he started moving inside her again, long and slow. “I canna fuck ye properly against a wall.”
She smiled against his face. She couldn’t imagine what that meant. “Then hurry.”
He pulled away, holding her as she came to her feet. “Lusty wench,” he murmured, his eyes ablaze.
No man had ever looked at her with so much heat. Claire hollowed, desire fisting in her gut, her knees useless. And then she froze.
They hadn’t used protection.
“Claire?”
“May I assume that you might get me pregnant?” she managed to say.
Instantly he swept her up into his arms, smiling. “Yer not in yer time o’ month, Claire. If ye were, I wouldn’t be filling ye with my seed.”
“What?” she cried.
“I can sense when yer fertile. Can ye imagine how many bastards a Master would have otherwise?”
“Are you certain?”
“I am very certain,” he said with a wicked smile as he carried her down the narrow stairs.
She was so relieved. “Can you put me down? I’m not a feather. I’m five foot ten, for God’s sake!”
“Aye, and most of ye be legs. I be a fortunate man, especially when ye have them around my waist.”
He kicked open the door to his chamber, thrilling Claire.
Elbowing the door closed, he swiftly crossed the room and laid her on the bed.
His smiled re-formed as he tossed his brat aside.
Claire sat up against the pillows, highly interested now.
He grinned, removing each boot in turn. “I like yer eyes on me that way.”
Claire didn’t answer; she couldn’t. She was interested in one thing now—the object that had given her so much extraordinary pleasure. As he tossed the leine aside, she inhaled.
He sat down beside her, laughing. “Ye have nay shame.”
She wet her lips and ran her fingertips down his incredibly thick length. His smile vanished. She looked into his eyes, then abruptly stood.
Claire fumbled with the brooch.
Malcolm became still, watching. His eyes were molten silver now.
“I like your eyes on me that way,” Claire whispered. He didn’t smile and she knew he couldn’t.
She shed the brat and belt, and then tugged the leine over her head. She faced him in her miniskirt and tee. His eyes were so hot she expected a fire to break out in the room.
He nodded. “Go on, lass.”
She trembled, heat dripping down her thighs. That had been an order and just then, she liked his macho ways. She stepped out of her boots, her skirt riding high over her ass as she bent over. Malcolm didn’t make a sound but she felt his lust escalate.
She faced him, slowly tugging off the tee and pausing with the hands on the snap of her denim skirt.
Malcolm was breathing hard. His penis looked fuller, bigger, but that was impossible. “What do ye call the chemise?”
“A bra,” she said softly. It was sheer and lacy and Malcolm seemed mesmerized. She unsnapped her skirt and let it pool to the floor.
Malcolm’s gaze flew to what the lace thong contained. “Turn around,” he ordered. “Show me the entire garment.”
Claire didn’t laugh. She was ready to have an orgasm just standing there.
She slowly turned in a circle, and before she had finished, he stood behind her, his huge erection pressing between her buttocks, his mouth on the side of her neck, his hands beneath the soaking-wet thong, covering her sex.
Claire cried out, throbbing in his palm.
“Ye be so very beautiful, Claire,” he whispered harshly. And then he lifted her up abruptly and Claire fell back into the pillows.
He spread her thighs. Claire went still as her heart lurched and raced in wild anticipation. Braced up on all fours, Malcolm met her eyes with his hot silver gaze. “I need ye now. I’ll use me tongue on ye later, lass.” He tugged the thong to the side.
Claire moaned, looking down as he posed to take her, restlessly throbbing over her. “I can’t wait,” she choked.
“Aye, ye can.” He slowly lowered himself and when she felt his slick heat stroking against her, she cried out, clawing his back.
“’Tis better slow,” he breathed, beginning to press against her.
Claire dug her nails deep. “I hate you,” she wept.
“Aye, fer a moment.” He kissed her briefly and then began a slow entry, inch by single inch.
Pleasure cloaked her mind. She couldn’t breathe. He smiled, pushing four inches deeper, then five. Claire felt herself begin to shake. She heard herself panting and she realized she was begging, but he did not accelerate his pace. And before he was through, she felt herself break.
She met his gaze and as he watched her, she came. So much ecstasy shattered over her, sweeping her into that dark scintillating universe where waves of pleasure begat even greater waves, and Claire cried out, eagerly embracing the vortex. “Malcolm!”
He smiled once, triumphant, and he moved more swiftly, joining her in that mindless frenzy now.
“CLAIRE, ’TIS ALMOST DAWN.”
Claire barely heard as Malcolm left her, moving onto his back beside her.
She was in a daze of ecstasy and agony, the evening spent in pure frenzied hedonistic passion.
She had long since lost the ability to think.
She closed her eyes, absolutely breathless, waiting for the tremors and trembling of her aroused body to cease, waiting for her heart to finally slow.
And when she was coherent, she was in disbelief.
Malcolm was an insatiable but superb lover, and his prowess in bed was clearly not human.
No man could arouse and continually pleasure a woman as he had done for hours and hours, without tiring or even flagging.
She was finally aware of being exhausted.
She was also aware of a level of satiation that was impossible to define.
And there was even more than that. Her heart began a little dance inside her chest. No, she thought quickly, don’t you dare go there!
They were lovers, that’s all, and clearly that made her one very lucky lady.
Slowly, she turned her head to look at him in the gray light of the coming dawn. And she inhaled at the tender look in his eyes.
He had one arm under his head and he was regarding her intently. “Ye be pleased, lass?”
She had to smile. “Are you kidding?” And before he could tell her he did not understand, she said softly, “I am very pleased, Malcolm. I have never been so well pleased.”
To her surprise, he abruptly reached out and pulled her against his side, smiling in satisfaction.
Claire was amazed. He wanted to cuddle? She pressed her cheek against his chest and was rewarded with the slow, strong thudding of his heart. It would be so easy to fall for this man, she thought.
His hand stroked down her arm, then he toyed with strands of her hair. “Tha ur falt brèagha,” he said softly.
Claire looked up. “You said that to me in my store. What does it mean?”
“Yer hair be beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze holding hers. “Almost as beautiful as ye.”
Claire felt a rush of pleasure. She ran her hand down his magnificent torso. “You are the beautiful one.”
He laughed. “One o’ us needs be dressed.” He got up, reaching for his brat, which was on the floor.
Claire shifted so she could ogle him openly. He smiled at her as he deftly wrapped the brat around his bare hips. Amazingly, Claire felt her mouth water. “That is sexier than nothing at all.”
He smiled and returned to the bed, instantly taking her back into his arms. “It pleases me that ye like my manliness.” He hugged her.
Claire’s heart danced anew and she reminded it to stop. “All women like your manliness,” she said with a smile.
“Aye.”
Claire decided not to go there. She had just been made love to as if there was no tomorrow, in ways that weren’t really possible, and she was floating with satiation and happiness. If he made love to other women that way, she didn’t want to know.
“I ha’never wanted any woman as I do ye,” he said gently, clearly having listened to her thoughts.
“You haven’t?”
“Nay.” He tilted up her chin. “An’ ye, lass?”