Chapter 11 #3
“Nae,” he returned, finally lifting his head again. “Ye liked that, I assume?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Good. And there’s more, as well.”
“I … My goodness. More?”
“Aye. We’re only just beginning.”
“Then you should remove the rest of your clothes, too.” Her smile matched his. “I feel very naughty.”
He kneeled again, pulling her into a sitting position in front of him. “Come here,” he said, taking her hands and moving them to his waist.
She hesitated for a bit as if she didn’t quite know what to do.
Then, blowing out her breath in a soft O, she unbuttoned the fastenings of his trousers.
The tug as she worked at unfamiliar buttons had him clenching his jaw.
“I want to do this correctly,” she said, her face setting into grim lines as she wrestled another button open.
“I dunnae think ye need to worry over that,” he responded, carefully keeping any amusement from his voice and expression.
“I don’t like not knowing what to do.”
“Well, that’s one of the lovely things aboot sex, lass. If ye stop thinking so much, yer body knows what to do. Sex has been aboot fer a fair amount longer than ye and me.”
Her hands paused, and she lifted her face to look at him. “How can anyone simply stop thinking?”
“I’ll have to introduce ye to my brother Munro. He’s a prime example.”
“Arran.”
He covered her hands with his. “Just do what feels good to ye, Mary. We’re here, and we’re together; naught else matters.
” Drawing her arms up around his shoulders, he lowered his head and kissed her upturned face again.
Tonight she tasted like sin, sweet and spicy and far too enticing for his peace of mind.
Reaching between them, he opened the last button of his trousers himself and pushed them down his thighs. Thank God. For a moment there he thought he might be permanently bent.
Mary, her arms still around his shoulders, looked down between them. “So that’s what that does.”
“It does more than that.”
She reached one hand down to stroke the length of him. “I think you should show me, Mr. Fox,” she murmured.
“With pleasure, Mrs. Fox.” He scooted backward to sit on his backside. “Help me with my boots, will ye?”
She tossed her own dancing slippers aside, then knelt to grab his heel and pull.
After doing the same with the other boot, she set them both aside and stripped his trousers down his legs and off.
Now that felt better. And this was where they belonged—together.
And whatever awkwardness she’d felt seemed to have vanished, because with a curious, aroused glance at his face she reached between his legs to curl her fingers around his cock and touch his balls.
“All this goes in your trousers,” she mused. “It doesn’t seem comfortable at all.”
“Well, in its resting state it’s nae as impressive,” he commented, beginning to wonder just how much a man could stand before he let loose and ruined the rest of the evening. “But if ye kick a man there, he’ll definitely feel it. It’ll drop him to his knees faster than a punch to the jaw.”
“But how—”
“If ye dunnae mind, my lass, might ye save the anatomy questions till after I’ve had ye? I feel like I’ve been waiting a day past forever fer this.”
Mary released him, pressing up along his chest to kiss him again. “Have me, then,” she whispered.
She didn’t need to tell him twice. Wrapping his hands around her back, he lowered them both down to the quilted bed again.
Arran kissed her, running his hands along her slim, smooth body until he felt near to coming right there.
That wasn’t going to happen, though. He’d waited too damned long for this.
He settled himself between her thighs, shifting her legs farther apart until the tip of his cock brushed against her.
“Now, Arran,” she urged him, her breath coming faster again.
“It’ll hurt ye fer a minute, lass. But I’ll nae hurt ye again.”
“I’m ready. Please.”
Moving as slowly and carefully as he could force himself to do, he canted his hips forward and slid inside her, hot and tight.
When he met resistance he paused, holding her lovely green gaze with his own, then moved deeper.
Mary gasped, and he caught the sound with a kiss.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, but he held still, fully engulfed. Now she belonged to him.
“Relax, lass. Feel me inside ye.”
Gradually her eyes half closed. “Dear heavens,” she murmured.
With her fingers still restlessly kneading at his back, he slid out, then pushed back in again. “Does it still hurt, my bonny Mary?”
She shook her head. “No. It feels … Do it again.”
That made him grin. “My pleasure.” He pumped his hips into her, slowly at first, then harder and faster as her ankles locked around his thighs. Each motion felt like a statement—that she belonged to him, that he wasn’t letting her go.
“More,” she groaned, arching her back.
He obliged, again and again, then shifted his weight to free one hand so he could pinch and tug at her nipples. When she came he felt it, and with a grunt he joined her. For a long moment he held her, both of them shuddering.
Let the Campbells try to stop them now, if they would. Or the MacLawrys. Wherever this adventure took them next, it would be together.