She gasped, pulling in much needed air. That delicious little nibble aroused her in a way foreign to her.
She wanted him to do it again.
Fisting her fingers into his hair, she set him on her other breast. “Now this one.”
As Reid feasted on her favors like a starving man, she felt the flutter of an orgasm churn low in her belly. Eoin had never paid her breasts any attention, and not until this moment did she realize how deprived she’d been.
Reid pushed her undershift over her wide hips and caught her around the waist when her legs failed to hold her weight. With one muscular arm wrapped around her middle and the other supporting her duff, he carried her to the bed’s center. Not once did he take his exquisite mouth from her breast as he settled her amidst cool bolsters smelling of exotic flowers. The silken coverlet eased the heat from her back, but did little to prevent the perspiration already rolling down her neck.
Straddling her thighs, he held her arms to the bed and spent long agonizing moments tasting her skin. The man was passionate, loving, and he made her feel desirable. A master of restraint, his rhythm beat in time with the ticking cadence of the spinning fan, then something inside him seemed to snap. His hold on her arms tightened, and his gentle kisses intensified, turning hard—urgent. “Your taste weakens me.”
She squirmed beneath him and arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward his magnificent mouth. The ache in her womb had spread to every pulse point in her body. Everything seemed to swell—her throat, her breasts, her mons. “What do I taste like?” She regretted asking the question the moment his fiery mouth left her skin.
“Finer that the sweetest fruit in the Yucatán,” he began and kissed her ribs one at a time as he spoke. “The Mopán people ferment a drink made from the bark of the sacred balche tree.” His tongue swirled then plunged into her naval, sending her stomach to convulse inward, then he nipped at each of her protruding hipbones. “Balche is addictive.” He kissed the butterfly Songbird had painted just above her womanhood. “But never have I craved its taste the way I crave ye.”
He drew his nose repeatedly over the soft petals of her woman’s flesh—her bare woman’s flesh, which was surprisingly more sensitive. She felt her impending climax squeeze and billow. The circle of candlelight spun in streaks of gold above her. She felt imprisoned by the need clawing at her insides. She wanted to spread her thighs and invite him to drink from her, but his weight pinned her legs in place and thwarted her efforts.
Reid inhaled her essence. His fingertips dug into the supple flesh of her generous hips, but he never slipped his tongue inside the place she desperately wanted his attention. Instead, he lurched back and jumped off the bed.
“By God’s legions, I cannae control myself with you.” He ripped his fingers through his mussed hair.
“I dinnae want your control.” She reached out, grabbed him by the waistband of his breeks, and pulled him back onto the bed with shocking strength.
His eyes snapped wide.
She disregarded his reaction, straddled his waist, and held his wrists against the bed. “If ye wanted a meek, timid virgin, ye have the wrong woman.” She bent to kiss him, rubbing her mound against the rock hard bulge in his breeks, but she didn’t dawdle on his lips. She moved quickly to his chest, licking his salty skin, tasting his masculinity, biting his flesh.
“Ye are the only woman I have ever wanted,” he deemed in a deep husky tone, his breathing raspy.
“Then take me.” She reached for the laces of his breeks, but before she could free his cock, he flipped back overtop her and trapped both her wrists above her head in one of his hands.
“Ye are wanton.” He tweaked her nipple.
She winced. “I am in pain and cannae bear this torment.” Frustrated, she squirmed beneath the vise-like hold on her wrists and bucked beneath him.
To her surprise, he stepped off the bed and removed his breeks. “I pamper you with gentle kisses, and ye call my love-making torture.”
Her breath of relief stuck in her throat when he turned back toward her and glared at her with darkening eyes. He didn’t give her enough time to gauge his mood before he wrapped his hands around her ankles and pulled her to the bed’s edge.
“Ye accuse me of wanting a meek, timid virgin in my bed, but I can assure you, the woman in my dreams is by no means meek or timid.” He stuffed a hard, round bolster beneath her duff, raising her mons to him. “However, she does possess far more endurance than you.”
As she looked up the length of her glistening body where his cock stood proud and tall at her entrance, she didn’t care that he’d insulted her. Her persuasion was about to gain her what she most desired, yet part of her was mildly curious about the woman he spoke of. “What did ye do to this woman in your fantasies?”
He crooked a devil’s grin and swiped his tongue along the crevice of her womanhood. “I fear she was too impatient to find out.” He held her quivering thighs wide and slid the side of his cock over her spread lips.
She raised her pelvis to him, but he held her belly down with four fingers and stroked her pulsing clitoris with the tip of his thumb.
A haze filled her head. A hum droned between her ears. She grabbed fistfuls of bedding as the rise of her climax followed the stimulating swirl of his thumb. She slammed her eyes shut.
He stopped.
Blast him!
“Dinnae hide from me. Open your eyes. I want you to know who you are talking to.”
Her heavy lids opened but narrowed. “I dinnae want to talk,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
He resumed his teasing tactics on the spot that would send her into bliss-filled oblivion. “’Tis only a few words. Try to manage.” He slowly fed her hungry sex the thick bulbous head of his cock.
She wanted more. She needed more, but he did not oblige her.
“Vow you will be my woman.”
She nodded, her eyes flickered beneath her lids. Her heart slammed against her breast.
“Say the words.”
“I vow to be your woman,” she spouted quickly.
“Vow to be faithful to me and call me husband.”
“Aye. Aye!” she hollered, crazed.
He pulled out and pinched her suffering flesh between his thumb and two fingers. “Say it!” he demanded, his tone unyielding.
“I vow to be faithful and call ye husband.”
“For forever.” He stroked the full length of her slit gently.
“For forever,” she echoed in a whisper, binding herself to him like she’d never done with Eoin.
“Have you anything to add?”
“Nay. Nay!”
In one powerful thrust, Reid drove himself inside her.
She screamed.
He howled, then withdrew all the way and set the rhythm. Inch by wondrous inch he pushed deeper into her canal. Her muscles clenched around his girth, squeezing, gripping, until she came with a resounding cry. Her orgasm pulsed through her body wave after wave and pushed the scorching fire from her body.
Relief. Perfectly wonderful relief.
“Thank ye,” she mumbled and giggled at the foolishness of her words as her sated body grew limp.
“’Tis my pleasure.”
“Nay. ’Twas mine.” Again, she laughed and waited for him to find his ease, but to her surprise he kept a steady pace.
Long minutes passed in splendor, then he picked her up and held her exhausted body to his chest. “Wrap yourself around me, love.”
She coiled her arms around his damp neck and hooked her ankles behind his sinewy duff. His strength was astounding, as was his stamina.
While holding her hips, he kissed her hard and slammed her repeatedly onto his thick rod. Stroke after glorious stroke, he thrust in and out of her for an inconceivable period of time. To her astonishment, another climax gripped her, followed by a series of quivering spasms.
She whimpered, and let the sensations wash over her. Multiple orgasms were certainly new to her. Never coul
d she have imagined such passion, such delicious pleasure.
She liked it. She liked it a lot.
“You are magnificent,” he spoke into her ear, then added, “wife.”
She opened her eyes and found him smiling at her, then all at once, he pushed her onto the full length of him until the head of his erection touched the plain of her womb. He embraced her with trembling arms in a crushing hug and planted his seed inside her.
Not until that moment did she realize what her self-indulgent desires had cost her. She’d pledged herself to him. She was now his wife. He held power over her. What was worse, she hadn’t gained his promise to lead the clan.
18
~ INDULGENCE ~
Robbie felt Reid’s eyes on her before she awoke. He wasn’t touching her, but she sensed he’d been staring at her for quite some time. She held still, purposely feigning sleep while she collected her thoughts. Her mind’s eye filled with flashes of Reid’s lovemaking, but she forced the images out of her head in order to prepare words regarding Clan MacGregor. Leading the clan was his birthright. It was the honorable thing to do. She would ask him to protect those she held dear and make him see the right in it.
It was that simple. She inhaled and slowly blinked her eyes open, but Reid was not there. Across the expanse of red silk sat a small black monkey staring at her with huge round eyes.
Robbie quickly scanned the chamber filled with a new day’s light only to find it empty. She sat up and pulled a bolster into her lap to hide her nudity from the beastie’s innocent inspection. “Good morrow. Ye must be Myah.”
Of course, the monkey didn’t comment. Instead, she carried a half-piece of green and pink fruit across the bed and held it to Robbie’s lips. Myah waited for Robbie to finish the fare, then seemingly satisfied with her task, she leapt off the bed and climbed the silk drapes up the wall where she disappeared though an open window.
“My thanks,” Robbie offered futilely and rose from the bed.
A dull pain stretched through her core. She cupped herself, surprised by the soreness throbbing between her legs. One would think she’d been a virgin. “Mayhap ’twas my spirit’s maidenhead.” She laughed foolishly as she made up the bed and fluffed the hordes of bolsters.
When she entered the butterfly chamber—her chamber—she was prepared for its grandeur. The butterflies’ antics turned the ceiling into a moving masterpiece while Oscar bathed himself atop a pink footstool in the chamber’s center.
“Ye are obsessed with bathing, Oscar.” She rubbed his ears. “I dare say ye could teach Shane and Bryson a thing or two.” A bout of homesickness welled within her.
The beastie paused long enough to wink at her with both eyes, then continued to swipe his paw over his long whiskers again and again.
“I like ye, Oscar,” Robbie decided aloud, then stepped before an empty cradle. Her heart grew heavy with longing. She flattened her hand beneath her navel and imagined what it would be like to have Reid’s child, but the babe she saw in the cradle was Alana—a precious, blue-eyed babe who didn’t stand a chance at survival without someone to fight for her.
More determined than ever to gain Reid’s promise to lead the clan, Robbie stepped before one of the two armoires in search of a garment. After opening the doors, she was met with layers upon layers of thin drawers. Inside, she found baubles aplenty encrusted with diamonds, rubies, pearls…. S’truth, every gemstone was accounted for. She estimated their value based on how much food could be bought for the clan, then a butterfly pendant caught her eye. Four emeralds made up the wings and a pink diamond represented the body—the heart of the butterfly.
“Rukux,” she whispered as emotions sent her pulse into a frenzy.
Without you, the Rukux has no reason to beat. The man said such foolishly romantic things. She draped the gold chain over her head and positioned the butterfly between her breasts. Mayhap, she would keep just this one.
The bottom drawer was three times as deep as the others and contained the oddest assortment of trinkets: colored feathers of various lengths, red silk scarves, a strand of olive-shaped beads. She pushed the contents from side to side and found a heavy gold bracelet too small even for her thin wrist. A butterfly adorned the center with protruding antennas. Though puzzled by the bauble, she returned it to the drawer and looked upon another odd bit of frivolity. ’Twas the oddest trinket thus far. It sat in a velvet box embossed with leafy vines that formed smooth ridges over the surface. She picked it up, surprised by its dense weight, and studied it. ’Twas raven black in color and had a soft squishy texture consistent with day old sap. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a sheath of sorts that stretched over small gold balls.
“I see you have been exploring.” Reid’s words startled her, but not half as much as the slide of his fingers down the curve of her waist.
She shivered and caught his roaming hand at her navel. “What are these?”
“Trinkets. Toys. Nothing of import. They are not for you.” Reid pulled her hair aside and kissed the pulse point beneath her ear. The hand she’d caught sliding down her abdomen changed course and fondled her soft breast still tender from his overzealous attentions the eve before. He was certainly feeling randy.
“They are in my chamber. If they are not for me, then who are they for?”
He kissed the back of her shoulder. “They are for another woman.”
Rage gripped her like a bolt of lightning. “What other woman?” Jealousy and insecurity sharpened her muscles. She squeezed the object in her hand and felt the slight shift of the gold balls inside. “I am your wife. Ye vowed to be faithful to me.”
“Actually, you vowed to be faithful to me. I made no such promises.” He chuckled.
The pompous scut bluidy chuckled.
“S’help me Odin.” She searched inside the drawer for a weapon and decided the club in her hand would serve her purpose. She spun around and whacked him on the side of the head.
“Och, woman! Are ye adder-bitten?” He caught her wrist with one hand and wrapped his other around her throat to hold her at bay.
“I’ll not be married to a lecher.” If he thought he could stray from her bed like Eoin had, then he was sadly mistaken. “I want the words.”
“What words?”
“I want your vow to be faithful.”
“I vow to be faithful,” he obliged without thought. “Hold your temper, love. I was merely jesting with you.” He tried to kiss her, but she lurched back.
“Jesting?” She trembled. “I find no humor in your words. Say what ye imply or say naught at all.” His attempt to be amusing didn’t soothe the doubt still on the surface.
“Forgive me.” He caressed the column of her neck. “I had expected to find you in better spirits. I only intended to tease you.”
He’d never teased her before. She didn’t like it.
She stared at him, trying to decide whether or not to continue her tirade. “Then what other woman were ye referring to?”
“The woman in my fantasies?” he reminded her in a questioning tone. “The other woman is inside you, Robbie. I meant to imply that you are currently far too impatient for such trinkets.” He tickled her arm from shoulder to elbow repeatedly.
“Oh.” Not only did she feel slightly dim of wit, she now questioned whether or not she’d pleased him. Mayhap she was a poor lover. Mayhap that had been the reason Eoin strayed from their bed. She exhaled. “My impatience is a flaw I intend to overcome.”
Reid offered her a roguish grin and pulled her close. “I will assist ye in your task and when we reach our goal, we can play with the trinkets as reward. Aye?” He kissed her forehead lovingly.
She peeked back into the drawer and damned her curiosity. She should let the subject rest. She didn’t. “Play with them how?”
He gave her a sidelong look and seemed to ponder longer than normal before educating her on a given subject. He retrieved a yellow feather and drew it down the front of her torso. Her nipples crinkled into p
ointed buds, but she didn’t hide them from him. ’Twas odd, but she felt comfortable standing naked before him.
“They are for…stimulation.” He grinned and cocked a brow. “Or for pleasure. An indulgence.”
“They are for love-play?” ’Twas no wonder she knew nothing of such toys.
“Aye.” He tickled her throat and then her lips, which caused gooseflesh to spread over her scalp.
The feather she understood. Even the red scarves conjured up interesting images in her head. “But what is this?” She held the phallic shaped object between them.
He stared at her and blinked.
“Reid?” she prodded and blinked back, mocking him.
“’Tis an olisbos.” He emphasized the second O in the foreign word with a peculiar high-pitch note as if that would somehow convey his meaning.
She drew her brows tight and continued to wait for further explanation, now feeling even more inexperienced.
“Mayhap you have heard it called a diletto.”
“A diletto?”
“Godemiches. A red belt. A scarlet baubon. A false pillicock. A dil—”
“Ack! Hold your wheesht.” She held her hand up to stop him. A false pillicock was self-explanatory. She studied it further then scowled at him. “Ye are certainly well-educated on the subject.”
The fool flashed sparkling white teeth. “I read a lot.”
Her snort came automatically. She narrowed her gaze on him, debating whether or not she really wanted to know the details of his past transgressions.
“I’ve spent time in France as well as London. On business,” he added.
“Business, aye?”
He blew a quick breath out his nose. “I’m no saint, Robbie, but I intend to be a faithful husband. You must trust in that.”
Caribbean Scot Page 17
