Chapter Eight #3
“I suppose I’ll just have to beguile ye first.”
He pulled her skirts up, the night air bushing her thighs, making her shiver. But it wasn’t with cold. Her heart raced, making her skin warm.
“Now, about that spreading yer thighs bit you mentioned earlier…I’ve a mind to sample that bit of wifely service.”
Her breath caught. Brodick chuckled as he stroked one thigh. “There’s something that we are going to have to practice, lass. Talking.”
“One does not talk about intimacies.”
He touched her slit. A single stroke that sent pleasure up along her passage.
His fingertips remained touching her clitoris, rubbing a slow circle over the top of it.
The urge to lift her hips took great amounts of self discipline to quell.
She was struck dumb by how good that touch felt.
It didn’t seem possible that any single part of her body could feel so much pleasure.
“Then how did ye learn about French kissing?”
She blushed in the dark. “That was talk shared between women.”
“Yet it was about sucking a man’s cock between yer lips. Did ye just overhear or were ye asking for advice on how to handle me?”
“Brodick.”
He chuckled, low and deep. The sound sent a shiver up her body because it sounded so…hungry. He hovered over her slit for a moment, teasing it with his fingertips. Sweet pleasure flooded her with each tiny touch but soon it wasn’t enough. She felt empty, aching to be filled.
“You smell hot, Wife.” He pushed her knees up. “Just the way I like my lover to be.”
A breathless whimper crossed her lips. His lips pressed a kiss against her spread slit, the tip of his tongue flickering across the sensitive bud at the top of her sex.
There was too much sensation. Pleasure, need, hunger all twisted inside her.
It was impossible to remain still. She arched toward his teasing tongue.
Her hands curled into the hay, grasping handfuls of it.
He lapped her slit from the opening of her channel to the top where her clitoris pulsed for friction.
“Sweet, verra sweet.” He pulled the folds of her slit apart to expose her clitoris further.
He sucked it deep into his mouth, pushing her to the brink of climax.
But she didn’t tumble off the peak of arousal yet.
He kept her there, her sheath begging for penetration.
One thick finger slid deep and she moaned.
“Now, there’s a sound that I approve of ye making.”
He pulled free and returned to her sheath with two fingers. He teased the opening before thrusting back in. His lips returned to her clitoris, sucking on the tender bud while his fingers worked in and out of her body.
“Brodick…”
“Aye, any more of yer sweet nectar and I’ll spill myself like a green lad.”
Her body pulsed, hungry and aching for fulfillment. She was poised on the edge of climax, so close, one hard thrust from his cock would send the hard pleasure shooting through her.
She was at his mercy once more.
That rubbed her temper. Jerking up, out of the hay, she pushed him onto his back. She wanted to be more than complacent. More than quietly going along with Philipa’s plan. She wanted to take a lover.
He flopped back onto the hay, raising a thin cloud of dust. It smelled of spring, suiting her mood.
Moving down his body, she boldly pushed his kilt up to expose his cock.
The organ was stiff, swollen with the same need that burned inside her passage.
Reaching for it, she clasped it, stroking the soft skin.
It was very hard, making her long to lay back for his possession.
But not just yet.
“Go on, lass.”
His voice was tight as though his control was stretched.
She enjoyed that idea. Touching her tongue to the head, she tasted the skin.
It was pleasant, filling her with a sense of control over him and his greater strength.
A soft groan rose from his chest when she licked the slit.
There was a drop of slightly salty fluid hidden there that her tongue carried away.
Opening her mouth she sucked the entire head between her lips.
His hips jerked, thrusting toward her head.
His hand grasped her braid once more, a harsh sound coming from his lips.
For long moments she flicked her tongue over the cock in her mouth.
Little thrusts from his hips moved it in and out.
She listened to his breathing turn ragged, the fingers in her hair tightening.
Little zips of pain crossed her scalp, but they only added to the intensity of the moment.
Her body was so alive with need that every sensation added to the inferno.
“Enough.” He pulled her head away from his cock, the head leaving her lips with a small pop. “Ye’ve a wicked grasp of applying what ye hear to the practical act.”
He sounded immensely pleased by that fact, too.
“I suppose it’s a good thing you don’t want a dim-witted wife.”
He scoffed at her. “We were both born to the positions that required we marry well. I’m pleasantly surprised by who ye be without yer father’s lands.”
The hand in her hair pulled her back up his body, until they were face-to-face once again.
Clasping her tightly against his chest, he rolled over, her thighs spreading for his hips.
She whimpered when her skirts got in the way.
She loathed the barrier, reaching down to yank the fabric out of the way herself.
“In fact, I dinnae care a wit if ye’re poor as a beggar. I’m going to tumble ye good and hard.”
He raised his kilt and the head of his cock pressed against the wet opening to her body.
“Ye’ll be tender.” He thrust forward, controlling his speed. His body shuddered with the effort. “Easy…”
He didn’t sound as if he wanted to enter her softly. His voice had deepened and roughened. But pain rose from her sheath as it was stretched by his flesh again. It didn’t last as long as last night, fading into a dull ache almost instantly. Her clitoris begged for friction.
“Take me, lover.”
Her words were as bold as her needs. She heard his swift intake of breath before he pulled free. With a hard thrust he impaled her again, pushing his length deep into her body. Sweet enjoyment speared up into her belly, her back arching to make sure he was lodged completely.
“Aye, lass, that’s exactly what I plan to do with ye.”
His body jerked, setting up a fast rhythm of hard thrusts.
Each one drove his cock deep before he pulled free for only a mere second.
The skin of their thighs slapped together from the speed and force of his action.
Her hips rose up off the hay to meet each downward motion.
Each stroke drove more delight into her belly until she couldn’t endure any more.
Tension knotted around her sheath and the hard flesh stretching it.
She reached for her lover as a cry left her lips.
Savage enjoyment flooded her, ripping her away from any thoughts or concerns.
There was only the pleasure and the hard body of her lover.
He growled in her ear a moment before she felt a spurt of hot fluid hit her deep inside her passage.
His cock jerked as it pumped his seed against the mouth of her womb.
Her passage tightened around his length, milking every drop from it.
She was suddenly aware of their breathing.
It sounded loud against the silence of the night.
Perspiration dotted her skin and the night air was cool as it blew across her exposed legs.
But her lover was warm. His body weight was caught on his elbows, his chest working like a bellows.
Raising a hand, she placed it against his chest. Her fingertips caught the hard thumping of his heart.
A soft kiss touched her forehead.
“Did I hurt ye?” He kissed her cheek and then her lips before raising up to look at her face. “Did I?”
“Only when you looked at me with suspicion.”
That fragile bond of trust was growing into a web. Surrounded by the night, she felt at ease confessing her feelings. He sighed.
“I was so busy fighting off the urge to tumble ye, I didn’t give a damn about supper. I was trying nae to toss ye over my shoulder like a raiding barbarian.”
“Your brother—”
“Was teasing me. So I shot him back a harsh answer.”
Her lower lip trembled. She wanted to believe him. Her heart needed to believe that he trusted her. All of the tender emotions that had begun to grow deep inside her demanded that she embrace his words.
“Since ye nae have any siblings, ye dinnae ken how they can needle at each other. ’Tis a way of showing affection. I swear it.”
He sat back on his haunches, gently closing her legs for her.
A firm hand drew her skirts down to cover her legs, too.
A shaft of pain went through her heart as she considered how true his words were.
She often teased Bonnie, and her brothers were hellions when it came to taunting one another.
Only their mother managed to quiet them.
He drew a stiff breath when she remained silent.
“I suppose I’ll have to be patient with expecting ye to trust what I say.”
She could hear how much he didn’t like waiting for that to happen.
“Come on now, lass. I’d better get ye into a warm bed before ye catch a chill.”
He pulled her to her feet, the hay falling off them both. A soft giggle escaped her lips, surprising her. She hadn’t made such a carefree sound in years. Brodick picked a few larger pieces from her hair, brushing his hands down her skirt to dislodge what he could.
He clasped her hand in his, silencing her once more. She looked at their joined hands, oddly touched by the simple gesture.
“Helen will tear a strip off my back if ye take ill from lying down in the stable.”
“Do you actually think women are so frail, or is it merely because I’m English?”
He turned to look at her. “Aye, I see ye’re fine and strong. Maybe I’m a wee bit overprotective. I know many a lass who would have quarreled with sleeping on the trail.”