Chapter 7 #2
If he’d closed that last inch, tangled his fingers in those brown waves, and claimed the lips that had been begging for his own, he had no doubt she wouldn’t have fought him.
In fact, he liked to think she would have melted into his chest, perhaps wrapped her arms around his neck.
He’d have taken that as a cue that she wanted more. He wanted more, too.
He’d have caught her by the waist and pulled her up, helping her straddle his lap.
She’d have been as fearless as she was with everything else he’d seen her do and followed his lead readily.
He would have released her lips to nip his way down her neck and shoulder, drawn one of her knees further forward over his leg to give himself easier access.
That same hand would have found its way easily beneath her skirt and shift. She would have gasped, perhaps even whimpered. But he’d have found her core wet and hot, eager for the touch he was just as eager to provide.
He’d have returned his mouth to hers, nipping at that bottom lip she’d been nibbling on earlier, his fingers sliding between her slick nether lips to tease the nub he knew lay between them.
A touch so gentle she’d have growled against his mouth, a demand for more, eager.
A touch she wouldn’t have believed him capable of, which would have made it all the more fun to provide.
He’d have obliged her unspoken demand. His other hand would still have been holding her firm where it had tangled in her hair, his mouth still battling hers.
Perhaps she’d have bitten him back. He’d have given her a firm tap in reply and drawn a little yip from her before gentling his hand again, stroking up and down through her folds, reveling in the slickness he felt there.
The way his fingers glided. The way her hips bucked against his touch.
The way she sought more and whimpered again when he withdrew, leaving the barest trace of his fingertips.
Just enough to have her panting against his lips.
Just enough to make her plead. To beg him for more, to be the ferocious Laird she expected him to be.
He would have let her. Then he would have finally, mercifully, applied full pressure with his fingers and circled them against her sensitive nub with enough force to draw a gasp.
To make her drop her head and buck her hips against his hand again.
He would have slid one finger into her hot core and continued the pressure with his thumb instead.
Massaged her until she begun to quiver against his hand, her legs shaking as she tried to hold herself up and found it harder and harder.
Angled his legs enough to spread her own until she was fully bare to his hand.
He would have found that place just between her neck and shoulder, the soft space that would have drawn such a satisfying whimper when he bit down just hard enough and increased the pressure between her legs.
His other hand would have still been in her soft hair, tugging just a bit to keep her neck bare to him.
He would have eased the pressure just a bit and waited for another demanding little sound from the back of her throat.
Then he would have redoubled his efforts, just a bit too rough, the pressure her body was begging for now.
He would have waited for her to start shaking again. Knowing she was so close, he would have eased back just slightly, let her wonder if he was going to give her release. Let her start to plead again.
Then he would have—
“Me Laird, are ye all right?”
Her voice had the same effect as a bucketful of river water, and he jerked his head upright, wrenched from the fantasy he’d let himself get entirely too lost in. Something he hadn’t done since he was a lad with a fancy.
Aiden jerked his arm entirely from around her waist as if she’d seared him and pushed himself back against the cantle as far as he could. Praying his plaid and her cloak were generous enough to spare him the embarrassment of further question.
“Aye, lass.” His voice was hoarse. “It’s late. I may have nodded off a bit.” He immediately tried to save face. “After all, ye already had a nap this evening.”
Hannah had been watching him compose himself with a confused expression on her face. Then she chuckled and shook her head, turning to face ahead again. Seeming none the wiser, which may have been the most mercy he’d received in his entire life.
“We’ve a little way yet to go, lass. Are ye holding up?”
“At least one of us has to, aye, me Laird?”
Aiden forced a chuckle and shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position as his body tried very hard to react every time his mare’s movements made her brush against his chest. Every time a breeze gusted and brought him her scent, he had to bite back a groan.
He had to fight with every fiber of his being not to draw her back against his chest fully and bring some of the fantasy that had stolen him away for several delicious minutes to life.
He wasn’t a gentleman, but he wouldn’t take advantage of a girl alone on the road with him in the middle of the night, no matter how hungry he was for her.
He adjusted his position again, trying his absolute best to keep a gap between his chest and her back, trying not to breathe in the unique scent of her hair.
“Lass?”
“Aye?” She glanced back at him.
“Me name is Aiden.”