“Do it again.” His voice rumbled up her body.
Then he pushed his tongue into her once more, and she ground against it. Over and over he thrust as she caught him, trying to hold onto the sensation. Then the hand that cupped her breast moved down, and a well-learned finger began to rub her clit. He stroked her a couple times before the pressure broke. Her body cracked with light as a ripple soared through her. She mewled as wave after wave of pleasure cascaded into every pore of her body, then released itself out in pulses of silver.
She realized she would collapse. Right on his beautiful face. Extracting herself from his tongue, she felt another pulsation tear through her body and fell sideways on the plaid, away from him.
She still shook with her orgasm when she felt his hands holding her, moving her.
“Ye all right?”
She fluttered her lids open enough to see him wipe at his face, along his short beard. Something about that, the thought that it was her on his visage, made another wave of pleasure settle through her womb and shake all her other muscles.
She nodded while closing her eyes. “So good.”
“Why’d ye stop me then?”
“I was going to fall on your head, baby.” She giggled. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Baby?” His voice was soft and quiet.
Flicking her eyes open, she asked, “Is it all right if I call you that?”
A small smile grew on his face. “Aye.” He maneuvered her to lay under him as he hovered over her, his plaid tenting toward her. “Do—do ye need a break? To sleep for a bit?”
She couldn’t help but softly laugh again. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Reaching down she tried to catch his hard cock in her hand, but he held her still. His red brows furrowed. “But I’m not about to force myself on ye. Mayhap ye need to rest?”
“Oh, baby,” she reached up and kissed his forehead then nose, “sweetie, I’m verrah much a willing participant.” She borrowed his accent and phrase, making him smile. “I want you, Duncan. I want you inside me, please.”
His nostrils flared. “I want ye naked.”
“I want you naked.”
He huffed a quick laugh.
“How—how do you take off your plaid?”
“The belt.”
Eagerly she reached for the leather binding, trying to unbuckle it in a flash.
“Wait. My boots and hose,” he said as he reached down and hurriedly slipped them off.
She couldn’t help but admire him as he took off something like a garter she hadn’t even seen on his long socks. And where had that knife come from? His wide shoulders bunched and squared as he went to work, and then she spotted his perfect stomach, the way his muscles rippled as he unrolled his hose.
She was going to make love to that. All of that. He would be inside her again. Her body spasmed again, utterly surprising her. Then he turned and looked at her with a tiny smile.
She tsked him, shaking her head. “Next time, I want a show.”
“A show?”
“Like this.” Slowly she pulled up her shift, revealing her thighs again, then unrolled one of her stockings. Making sure her shift hid most of her, she lifted her leg, then finally flicked off the hose.
He moaned. A muscle bulged in his jaw line. “Lord, that was bonny.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’m not goin’ to do that.”
She giggled and he softly laughed too. Then he planted his huge arms on either side of her shoulders and slowly lowered himself to kiss her.
He pulled away quickly. “Sorry. I forgot. Want me to wash yer taste out?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He groaned again and plowed into her body with his next kiss. Grinding against her sex, she also felt the loosened belt buckle pinch into her stomach. Reaching down between their bodies, she somehow finished what she had started. But the plaid didn’t fall away as she had hoped. Struggling with it, he finally stopped kissing her and sat up on his heels. Slowly he pulled the plaid down, his erection springing up the instant the wool was free from him.
Now, she moaned. His wide shoulders, his narrowed hips, every muscle of his bunched, seeming full of a tension she could release. His penis was a bit on the big side, and she was glad she hadn’t seen it before they’d made love the first time. She wouldn’t have thought he could fit.
“You’re huge.”
He glanced down, his cock wavered a bit. “Sorry.”
She giggled and beckoned by curling her finger at him. “Please don’t be sorry. I’m a lucky girl.”
A crooked, cocky smile grew on his lips then. He placed his hands on either side of her again, but this time she reached down and caught his hardness with her hands. He stiffened then and closed his eyes as she descended his length.
As she made her way back up and spent a little extra time on the head of his cock, he whispered, “Oh Lord.”
One of her hands cupped his bullocks then squeezed as she felt the base of his cock again.
“Need ye now.”
She opened her legs wide, then slightly pulled on his member, guiding him to her.
He stopped her, and removed her hands. “Need ye naked.” Without a word, he rolled off her other stocking. She smiled as he righted himself over her again. But he’d suddenly gotten serious. “Do...do ye want to roll over, so I may unlace yer stays?”
“Sure.”
But he hovered over her, looking down at her with a pained expression.
She reached out and caressed both sides of his face. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“I want ye so badly.”
“I want you too.”
His brows furrowed, then he squinted his eyes shut. “I want ye that way. I want ye from behind.”
She feathered her fingertips over his tense face. “Sounds good to me. Can I stand though?”
His eyes popped open. “But...but ye don’ think me—”
“It sounds fun, Duncan. All of it sounds fun.”
“But the kirk says I’m a sick man for wantin’ ye that way. I shouldn’t—”
She interrupted him by softly kissing his moving lips. “Doesn’t the church think all of it is perverse, making love in general? All I know is I don’t think you’re sick.” She petted his face more, feeling the tension in his body slowly leave. “You’ve tried all your life to do the right thing, to follow orders. But with me, I just want you to follow . . .” She swallowed. Damn it, she was supposed to be strong right now and be bold enough to say, “to follow your heart.” It seemed like an easy thing to voice but could lead to such complex issues. So her stubborn fear resisted, and all she could do was point to his heart. “With me, I want you to have fun.”
He smiled widely, then with only one arm he lifted her. God, that was sexy the way he could raise her as though she didn’t weigh much at all. He kissed down her throat as he slowly spun her around. She felt his erection press against her back, his fingers loosening her corset. Gently, he lifted her hair and placed it over her shoulder as he kissed the nape of her neck. Tingling sensations shot down her back. It felt so good.
One hand reached around and he cupped her breast, kneading her at first, but once he found her nipple, making her moan, he rolled over it, lightly pulling her tight nub. Her corset finally gave way and he used both hands to tug it down her hips. Then he lifted her shift gently up and over her head.
“I want to see ye,” he whispered in her ear, then sucked in her lobe.
Placing his hands on her waist, Duncan slowly turned her around. Feeling a bit nervous of his reaction, Fleur caught his large arms for balance as he kept holding onto her stomach.
Finally she glanced up, curious about his silence. His gaze flittered all over her body, scanning her from head to toe.
“Now who’s the lucky lad?” he asked with a smile.
She gave in and grinned back. His hands feathered over her skin, stopping briefly over her hips. Then he knelt before her.
“Ye’re so bonny, Fleur.”
She swallowed, sensing the compliment filter through her skin, making her feel as if she radiated beauty and femininity. His hands caressed down to her thighs, then he smiled up at her. A bit impishly. Leaning forward, he caught one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasped the instant his mouth drew her in. Arching into him, she gripped onto his strong shoulders, feeling for herself the powerful muscles move as he gripped her backside. His mouth found her other breast, then one of his hands reached up and found her clitoris.
His tongue circled her nipple simultaneously his talented thumb did below. She found her body beginning to build the precious tension again.
“Duncan.”
He pulled away from her nipple. “Aye?”
“I need you now.”
His thumb rubbed against her a few more times, making her legs almost buckle with need. But he finally stood.
“Just a moment.”
And then he was gone.
He’d just made her so close to orgasm again, and he left? Shaking, Fleur wondered where he’d run off to, when he came back with a long wooden box. He placed it beside the stall’s wall, then straightened, smiling.
“’Tis for ye to stand on.”
“Stand on?”
His face fell. “Oh, we don’ have to...if ye changed yer mind.”
Then she finally got his meaning. He was giving her the box so she wouldn’t have to stand on her toes, or, heck, she hadn’t guessed the logistics of how to make love with his front to her back. Leave it to the big guy to figure it out.
She softly giggled, then stood on it. Facing him, she curled her finger at him again. “Don’t you think of everything?”
He smiled, but then faltered. “We...don’t have to. If ye changed ye mind...we don’t have to—”
“Duncan?”
“Aye?”
“Get over here, please.”
He obeyed quickly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was almost as tall as him now, and when he got closer his cock was no longer against her stomach but glided through her thighs. So close. They both moaned. He rested his hands on her hips and rocked into her again, then again. They began kissing somewhere in the midst of it all, letting their tongues meet once more. He bent slightly, and lowered his hand until it gripped her knee, then he tried to lift her leg.
She pushed against his chest. Not hard enough to drive him away, but to stop him. His wild green and orange eyes were glassy, but he tried to focus on her.
She shook her head. Then slowly tiptoed around to face the wall. Twisting her neck she smiled at him. “Is this what you wanted?”
He looked down at her body, nodding.
“This is what I want too.”
He lunged for her then, his mouth on hers, his hands on her hips. Again, his length plummeted between her thighs, but after a few crazy thrusts, she held onto his cock and guided him to her entrance.
He growled, pulling away from the kiss, but didn’t move the rest of his body. Only the head of his penis was inside her, and she so badly needed more. Gripping onto the wooden wall in front of her, she pushed her hips back, feeling inch by lovely inch of him fill her. It had been just a few hours since he’d made love to her against the wall outside the house, but even so she was ravenous for this, for him.
He pulled on her chin, turning her face to his to kiss her again, devouring her lips. Then he finally began to pump into her. In and out, he gripped onto her hips. His kisses became clumsy and his hot breath met hers.
“So good,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she moaned.
Reaching around, he found her clit again, instantly tightening the building tension in her body. He circled her nub with his fingers, timing it perfectly with every thrust of his. She had to break away from the kiss and lean farther into the wall, her knees becoming weak. In so doing she arched more into his pistoning hips. His other hand found her breast, caressing her sensitive skin, finding the nipple and pinching.
His thrusts were becoming more powerful, faster.
“Oh, Duncan.” Over her shoulder, she saw him—so strong, touching her everywhere, losing himself in the act.
He moaned.
She wanted him to say her name, and the fact that he hadn’t stung, but she did her best to push that thought away.
“Fleur?” Duncan stilled and with one hand pulled her face closer. “Where did ye go? Ye have such a far away stare. Do ye want me to stop?”
She shook her head.
He took a huge breath. “Ye don’ want this. Jesus, I’m—”
Somehow, she twisted herself enough to kiss him. After forcing her tongue in his mouth, he began to move, not only his lips, but his hips too. But very slowly.
She knew she had to say something, he was hesitating. Pulling away from the kiss, she told him as much of the truth as she could bear. “I...I’m...I’m just so happy.”
Giving her a wide smile he kissed her tenderly, sweetly. Then pulled away and out of her. She pouted right away, but he lifted her in his arms.
“I’m so happy too, Fleur, my bonny flower.”
He laid her on the plaids he’d prepared for his bed, spreading them out, then fanning her hair around. Hovering over her, he kept his grin, but it had waned into something a bit more serious.
“Aye, so happy.”
Slowly he kissed her as he fitted himself between her thighs. Then he was inside her again. This time his thrusts were slow, careful, deliberate, and so tender. All the while he kissed her, letting her invade his mouth, then vice versa. She lifted her legs, wanting him deeper inside, placing her knees along his sides. His pace quickened. After she moaned, he reached a hand between their bodies, where he found her nub, making her arch into him. She lowered one leg to try to meet him thrust for thrust. His breath accelerated as did his rocking. He growled against her mouth.
The combination of his talented finger, his hardness inside her, pleasuring her, his chest against hers was too much. She clutched onto his shoulders, accidentally digging in her nails when her orgasm shattered through her body, making her scream out his name.
Then his thrusts hastened all the more. He released her clit and gripped her hips, plunging into her until finally he went very rigid, groaning. Twitching, he ground against her a few more times. Opening his mouth, he looked like he was going to say something but captured her mouth to hers, kissing her in a whirl of passion.
Chapter 28
Duncan kept kissing her, making it impossible for his foolish lips to whisper the words he ached to say. He loved her. Lord, how he loved her.
After many moments of boneless joy, they settled into the house, sleeping on Fleur’s bed. He briefly wondered if his mother would mind. But he figured he’d fib to Helen. Tell her that they were hand-fasting. That Fleur wanted that. To marry him.
It wasn’t that he wanted to lie to his mother.
Nay. It was because he wanted the lie to be the truth.
If the fae or muses had brought her here, then there must be a reason for it. Why not to wed him? Hadn’t he had enough hardship in one life? Couldn’t he have this one thing? Love.
Before he’d gone to bed with Fleur, he’d checked on his ma who slept like a babe. An incredibly pale bairn, but it did him good to see she no longer fevered. Her face no longer pinched in agony. The cancer had stopped. His mother was recovering.
Mayhap he could now start living. He could take his mother and Fleur to the Americas, find his brothers, then...then his life would be happily set, wouldn’t it? He’d have Fleur at his side. Whether she knew it or not, she was practically engaged to him after what they’d done. Perhaps it was a bit manipulative to not tell her that by sleeping together, she was binding herself to him. But Duncan hoped she would forgive him eventually.
Especially if they had a child together. In the dark of the night he held Fleur closer, lightly touching her belly wondering if she already could be. She nuzzled her nose against him and wrapped a leg around one
of his. Resting one of her dainty hands against his chest, her head on his shoulder, he couldn’t believe his luck had changed so completely. His mother was becoming healthy again. And even if it were a wee bit unscrupulous, he had love, love that could potentially be his forever more. Better yet, what if Fleur loved him in return?
He couldn’t help but envision his future with Fleur and possibly...a daughter. Closing his eyes, his heart found such peace thinking of a little girl with a vicious temper who would sass him and fly through the air to land on him and hug him with powerful small arms. She’d have Fleur’s hair with a few strands of red glistening in the black. But she’d have his eyes. His mother’s eyes. What he loved so much about his future daughter was that she had her mother’s spirit—so wild and brave, virtuous and fierce, so beautiful. Drifting into the most restful sleep of his life, Duncan wondered if the fae finally found mercy for him.
*
He woke when he heard the squeak of a door. Opening his eyes, he saw his mother’s shadowed frame in the doorway. It was still the dead of the night, and he wondered why she was there, watching him. He tried to get up, but Fleur laid spread over him. Helen reached out her palms, indicating he stay in place. She stood there in the dark, where he couldn’t make out her face to see for himself if the fever had returned. But he felt her smile from where she stood. He couldn’t help but grin back.
“I’m so proud of ye, my bonny son,” she whispered.
His throat tightened, his chest pinched. Lying there with a woman he loved but wasn’t married to yet, he would have never thought to hear those words from his ma. He’d marry Fleur, somehow convince her to wed, then his ma would be all the more proud. And she’d have grandchildren.
Highlander of Mine Page 24
