Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Well, we could make this bath more interestin’,” David said with a sinful smile. “Are ye in?”
“What is this about?” Elinor knew where this was headed and she was enjoying the feeling.
“Ye just have tae tell me if ye are in lass.”
“I’m in.”
David didn’t waste another moment. His hands, rough from years of wielding a sword and tending to the land, moved to the ties of his tunic, pulling them loose with deliberate slowness.
The fabric parted, revealing the broad expanse of his shoulders, the deep valleys between his muscles, the faint scars that mapped his skin like stories of battles fought and won.
Elinor’s breath hitched as she watched, her own fingers fumbling now, the ties of her gown slipping through her grasp.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry. The sound of his belt clinking as he unbuckled it sent a shiver down her spine. The weight of his gaze was almost physical, burning into her as she finally managed to loosen the last of her laces.
The gown slid from her shoulders in a whisper of fabric, pooling at her feet like melted snow.
The cool air of the chamber kissed her bare skin, raising gooseflesh along her arms, her nipples tightening into stiff peaks.
She stood before him in nothing but her shift, the thin linen doing little to hide the flush spreading across her chest, the way her body responded to his hunger.
David’s breath came faster, his chest rising and falling as his eyes raked over her.
“Ye’re so bonnie, Elinor,” he murmured, his voice rough, like gravel beneath boots.
The words sent a thrill through her, her knees nearly buckling. Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his calloused hands cupping her face.
She leaned into his touch, her lips parting as he dipped his head, his breath mingling with hers.
The first press of his mouth was soft, almost hesitant, as if he were savoring the taste of her. But the moment her lips moved against his, the kiss deepened, turning hungry, desperate.
His tongue slid between her teeth, tangling with hers, and she moaned into his mouth, her hands flying to his chest, her fingers curling into the hard planes of muscle.
She could feel the heat of him, the way his body radiated warmth, the unmistakable press of his arousal against her thigh.
Her core ached, a deep, throbbing need that made her shift restlessly against him.
David groaned, his hands sliding from her face to her waist, his grip firm as he pulled her flush against him. The hard ridge of his manhood pressed against her belly, and she gasped, breaking the kiss to drag in a shuddering breath.
His lips trailed down her jaw, along the column of her throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below her ear. “I’ve wanted this,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. “Wanted ye.”
She could only whimper in response, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he stepped back, his eyes dark with promise.
The firelight caught the glint of something feral in his gaze as he reached for the buckle of his belt, the leather hissing as he pulled it free. The sound was obscene, a precursor to the filthy things she knew he’d do to her.
“Let me wash ye,” he said, his voice rough, his brogue thickening with desire. She nodded, her heart hammering against her ribs as he turned toward the wooden basin near the hearth.
The water inside steamed faintly, tendrils of warmth curling into the air. David dipped a linen cloth into the basin, wringing it out before turning back to her.
He moved slowly, as if he were memorizing every inch of her, his gaze lingering on the swell of her breasts beneath the shift, the way her nipples strained against the fabric.
When he reached for her, his touch was reverent, the cloth gliding over her collarbone, down her arms, the water leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
Elinor’s breath came in short, sharp gasps as he worked the cloth lower, his knuckles brushing the sides of her breasts. The shift clung to her damp skin, the linen growing translucent, offering him glimpses of the pink buds beneath.
His free hand followed the path of the cloth, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist before sliding upward, his palm cupping the weight of her breast. She arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her as his thumb circled her nipple, the fabric doing little to dull the sensation.
“David,” she whispered, her voice trembling. He didn’t answer, his focus entirely on the way her body responded to him.
The cloth dropped from his fingers, forgotten, as he gripped the neckline of her shift and tugged. The fabric tore with a soft rip, baring her to his gaze. Her breasts spilled free, full and pale in the firelight, her nipples tight and begging for his mouth.
He didn’t make her wait. With a growl, he dipped his head, capturing one stiff peak between his lips. The wet heat of his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core, her hips jerking forward as he sucked, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud.
She cried out, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, holding him to her as he lavished attention on first one breast, then the other, his free hand kneading the flesh he wasn’t devouring.
Elinor was drowning in sensation, her body alight with need. Her hands found the laces of his trousers, her fingers working them loose with frantic urgency.
The fabric gaped, and she pushed it down his hips, her breath catching as his manhood sprang free, thick and heavy, the head already glistening with arousal. She wrapped her fingers around him, her thumb swiping over the slick tip, and he hissed, his hips jerking into her touch.
“Damn it, Elinor,” he groaned, his voice strained. She stroked him slowly, her grip firm, her thumb circling the ridge of his crown.
His manhood pulsed in her hand, the veins beneath his skin throbbing. She could feel the way his control frayed, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. It was intoxicating, the power she had over him, the way he shuddered when she tightened her grip, when she twisted her wrist just so.
“Ye’re killin’ me, lass,” he rasped, his hand covering hers, stilling her movements.
She looked up at him, her lips curved in a wicked smile, her eyes dark with challenge. He chuckled, the sound low and rough, before grabbing her hand and pulling her to the bed, laying her down amidst the furs with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his eyes.
He followed her down, his body covering hers, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress. She spread her thighs, her core slick and aching, her fingers tracing the muscles of his arms as he settled between her legs.
The head of his manhood brushed against her folds, the contact sending a shudder through her. “Ye’re mine, Elinor,” he growled, his voice a dark promise.
She nodded, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. “Aye, David. Only yours.”
He teased her, the thick length of him sliding through her wetness, his thumb finding her clit, circling it with maddening slowness. She bucked her hips, trying to take him inside her, but he held back, a smirk playing on his lips as he tortured her.
“Are ye sure ye want this? Ye ken that ye cannae turn back… and as gentle as I will try tae be, ye will feel a wee bit of discomfort,” he insisted, making sure she knew what she was gifting him.
“Please,” she begged, her voice hoarse, her nails digging into his shoulders.
His chuckle was dark, primal, as he finally, finally pushed into her.
The stretch was exquisite, the burn of him filling her completely, her walls clenching around him as he bottomed out.
Elinor cried out, her back arching off the bed, her body straining to take all of him after a first instant of pain. David groaned, his forehead dropping to hers, his breath hot against her lips.
“So tight,” he murmured, his voice rough. “So perfect.”
He began to move, his hips snapping in a rhythm that stole her breath. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound mixing with the wet slap of skin, the obscene squelch of her arousal as he pounded into her.
She could feel every inch of him, the way he dragged against her inner walls, the way his skin slapped against hers. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion—her moans, his grunts, the filthy words he whispered against her ear.
“Ye feel that, lass?” he growled, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Feel how deep I am?”
His words sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her body clenching around him. “Aye, just like that,” he praised, his pace quickening. “Take me, Elinor. Take all of me.”
She was close, so close, her body coiling tighter with each thrust. Her fingers clawed at his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, her heels digging into his ass as she urged him deeper.
“David, I—I can’t—” she gasped, but he cut her off with a searing kiss, his tongue claiming her as his manhood pounded into her relentlessly.
Her orgasm crashed over her like a storm, her body trembling as waves of pleasure ripped through her.
She cried out his name, her walls fluttering around him, her juices spilling around him. David groaned, his thrusts growing erratic, his own release building.
“Let me feel ye again, Elinor,” he commanded, his voice raw.
She obeyed, her body trembling as another wave of pleasure wracked her, her nails raking down his back. With a growl, David buried himself to the hilt, his manhood pulsing deep inside her as he came, his seed filling her in hot, thick spurts.
He collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the furs, his heart pounding against hers.
For a long moment, they lay there, breathless, their bodies still joined. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over their tangled limbs.
David lifted his head, his eyes soft as he brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “I love ye, Elinor,” he murmured, his voice tender. She smiled, her heart so full it ached, and reached up to cup his face, pulling him down for a slow, lingering kiss.
“And I ye, David,” she whispered against his lips.
As they finally disentangled, their skin slick with sweat, the furs clinging to their bodies, they both knew that was only the beginning.