Chapter Fourteen #2
Conan felt the change in her and cupped her cheeks gently in his large hands. “Mhàiri.” Her name on his tongue was thick with lust. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her against him, creating a wild need for him to plunge his hardness into her. “I want you, àluinn.”
“But do you love me?”
“Aye, but you already knew that. I want you to be mine. Every day. Forever.” He threaded his fingers through her hair as if it were precious silk. “You are mine, a chuisle,” he whispered, sounding hoarse. “I claimed you before, but this time I’m never letting you go.”
With a carnal sound, he pulled her lips to his and scorched her with his kiss.
Mhàiri groaned and leaned her weight against him. This was not like any kiss before. This was a branding, primal, and possessive kiss.
When she brushed her hard nipples against his chest, she was rewarded with a callused hand coming up to press her breast with one hand. Her eyes rolled and her head fell back, body arching to his touch. He smiled. Mhàiri wanted him as well.
As quickly as possible, he eased off her and removed all her clothing. She lay there before him, the firelight flickering over her body. He marveled at her beauty.
Her body throbbed under his stare. Her skin grew hot and sensitive. Mhàiri loved his touch, but longed for more. She reached up and pulled his mouth to her waiting lips. She let out a soft needy moan, and he went wild.
He covered her with his massive body, pushing himself between her legs. His hands flowed over her skin, cupping the tightest, most luscious breast that was ever captured by five fingers. She moaned again, and he took her mouth with his as she pressed her core against his painfully hard shaft.
She rubbed herself against him, driving him mad with lust. If she continued, he would lose the bare tendrils of control he still had, and he refused to let their coming together be that quick.
Pulling away, he grabbed another log and tossed it on the fire, preventing any touch of the cold winter’s storm. Then he unhooked his belt, dropping his tartan, and tore his leine over his head, removing the last bit of hindrance between them.
He basked in the feel of her soft naked skin against his own as he climbed over her.
Immersing himself in the feel of her soft, warm body beneath him, he leaned down and seared her mouth to his.
Her arms came around his neck to lock him in place, as if he had anywhere to go when he had her right where he wanted her.
He almost thought it was more than he could bear, and then Mhàiri began to stroke his back and buttocks with roaming fingertips. His shaft strained for her body. He needed to be inside her, but as bad as he needed her tight core clutching his shaft, he had to know she was absolutely ready for him.
Mhàiri made an aggravated sound when he removed his mouth from hers and raised an eyebrow at him. But she caught the gleam in his eye, a wicked look burning with promises of things to come.
In the next instant, her hard, little nipple was in his mouth. Conan twirled his tongue over the first peak, then the next, suckling, deeper and deeper. Arching into his touch, Mhàiri cried out from pleasure. The sensation was better than she remembered. It stole her breath.
But Conan had only just begun.
He continued flicking and teasing her breast with his tongue, letting his hand trail down her stomach and through the soft curls until he met with her core.
She gasped once more, mindless with an overload of sensation.
“Is this where you need me?” His voice sounded rough and on the verge of losing control.
“Please!” Mhàiri cried out and began rocking her hips in search of relief.
Conan’s lips returned to her breast as his finger made slow, maddening circles along her opening. Then he delved one finger inside her.
Mhàiri’s breath hitched and she opened wider for him. A second finger entered, increasing her pleasure. “A chiall beannaich mise! Conan!” she cried out. The sensations he was creating overwhelmed her, making her heart pound against the wall of her chest as pressure began to build.
Her nipple was in his mouth, his tongue swirling over the peak, teasing and stroking her. Mhàiri did not know what to do with the double onslaught of sensations.
Conan could feel coiled tension condense about her. Mhàiri opened her knees wider to take him even deeper. She was on the brink.
Conan watched her intently, waiting, as the world started to coalesce into a potent point of pleasure. He smiled possessively as the first jolting spasms echoed deep within her, the sound of her panting scream muffled by the storm raging around them.
Shifting, he gripped her thighs and opened her legs to him. Her eyes went wide, and her heart began to hammer. He groaned.
Mhàiri was just coming back to earth when she realized what Conan had planned.
She shuddered in anticipation. When his hot tongue met her liquid core, she could not prevent the scream of pleasure that came from somewhere deep inside her.
She writhed, thrashing her head on the blanket, and then another scream tore out of her as she climaxed once more.
The waves of pleasure seemed never-ending, and all the while, he continued his relentless licking and sucking.
When Mhàiri finally went limp, Conan rose above her and eased himself between her legs. Slowly he pushed himself against her, rubbing their slickness together.
In a rough voice, he asked, “Do you love me?”
Heart drumming, she gazed back at him and challenged him with a question of her own. “Do you want me?”
His answer came quick. “Forever,” he replied and then they came together with the strength of a McTiernay Highlander who had found his sonuachar at last.
He relished the exquisite feel of her soft flesh around him and dipped his head to take one of her beckoning nipples into his mouth.
Forcing himself into a slow rhythm, he eased in and out of her, trying to keep himself from bucking too hard.
He watched her breasts rise and fall with her heavy breathing.
Her nails dug into his back, and soon she was writhing beneath him.
Her legs widened for him, and her back arched, causing her breasts to press against him.
“More . . .” she begged, her voice a strained whisper.
Mhàiri was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld.
Lifting her hips off the ground, Conan obliged. He thrust into her again and again, filling her full of more pleasure than she thought her body could contain.
Ecstasy was a word she had only thought she understood. Her body quaked at the unbelievable feel of him inside her. It was almost too much to bear. She had never felt so connected to anyone, and she wanted the sensation to last forever.
Mhàiri heard someone screaming and realized it was her. Bowing her back, her body convulsed around his shaft so that Conan soon followed her. On and on it went for both of them, until they were both drained and fatigued from the onslaught of pleasure.
Conan slumped on top of her, holding himself up by his elbows so as not to crush her. Mhàiri nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Her legs were still wrapped around him, her hands rubbing his arms, his chest, his back, as if she could not get enough of touching him.
Conan rolled to lie beside her and pulled her against him as they slowly were able to catch their breaths.
Mhàiri sighed with satisfaction, burrowing deeper into his chest, and Conan knew there was no better feeling than having her in his arms. If he had realized every one of his prior dreams, none of them could compare to being with Mhàiri.
They lay there like that, basking in each other for a long while. Not speaking, just touching, kissing, loving each other.
* * *
Mhàiri awoke to a heavy need. Wetness was pooling between her legs and she soon began to move. Conan’s fingers were touching her, building desire. Her nipples were already hard. Her body wanted him again. She could not get enough.
She cracked open her eyes and smiled. The flickering firelight heightened the shadows on Conan’s face and illuminated his rich, blue eyes.
Conan gave her a wicked grin. “I cannot get my fill of you.” His voice was husky. “Imagine a lifetime . . . a lifetime of this . . .”
Mhàiri responded by grinding her hips against his turgid arousal. Never had she thought she would be so insatiable.
Wearing a luxurious half smile, she demanded, “I want more.”
“I’m at your service,” he said and then kissed a path down her breastbone to her navel to lave her with his warm tongue.
A hard, masculine groan vibrated through her core, and Mhàiri shook with sheer pleasure.
What Conan was doing to her was nothing short of amazing.
He continued to stroke and caress her until he had her panting, chest heaving, body aching.
Fisting the blankets, her head thrashed back and forth until there was an explosion of ecstasy.
Riding her through it, he dipped a finger inside, heightening her pleasure.
“I think I’m addicted to you,” he said as he kissed his way up her body, stopping to pay close attention to each breast. Then, Conan was inside her. Not hard as the night before, but gentle. It flooded her mind with bliss.
Cupping her backside as he thrust into her, Conan watched her with sapphire eyes. She wanted him harder, deeper. He quickened his movements.
Taking her mouth with his, he swallowed her cries of satisfaction and followed her with his own release.
* * *
Mhàiri snuggled against him as their legs intertwined. “I guess we should dress and get ready to return.”
“Aye, since there is a search party looking for you.” Conan kissed the top of her head but did not move otherwise.
Mhàiri tried to move to look at him, but Conan held her in place. “Why? My father knew I was capable of building a shelter to outlast the storm.”
“Maybe, but I did not know that.”
Mhàiri giggled. “We should probably return soon then to let them know they don’t have to send a search party out for you.”
Conan tickled her side. Mhàiri screamed and began to thrash. By the time she begged for mercy, he was atop her and she was breathing heavily. He had to fight the urge to take her once more.
“Maybe we should return because you need to plan a wedding.”
Mhàiri’s soft green eyes sparkled with love and excitement. “A wedding?”
“Aye, a wedding.”
“By chance whose wedding would I be planning?”
Conan leaned down and kissed the top of her nose. “It just so happens, you will be the bride and I will be the groom.”
Mhàiri bit her bottom lip, her grin large and full of joy. “And when is this wedding to take place?”
“Tomorrow. Right at sunset.”