“Lass, yer supposed tae be removing those pins.”
“This feels too good.”
As impatient as he was to have her naked, he moved to her heel and pressed his thumb into it. Her head fell back as she moaned again. Christ but she was a sensual creature.
He reached for the other leg, pulled the stocking down, and began to massage that foot. With one leg on either side of him, he was in exactly the position he wanted. He was still massaging, when she finally opened her eyes and plucked at the bodice of her gown. The materials fell away, and she lifted her shoulders and removed the rest. Next she reached for her skirts, but she couldn’t drop those with him between her legs.
With a curse, he stood and pulled off his coat and loosened his neckcloth, while she squirmed out of her skirt. He’d just finished with his boots when he looked up and saw her standing only in her shift. She was shivering. Of course, she was. He’d banked the fire and it gave off little to no heat. He pulled her close and kissed her. He could feel her slim body under the thin linen. His hands began to roam, but she kissed him and then moved away. “Take off your shirt,” she said.
His brows rose even as his blood pumped harder. “Ye think ye can tell me what tae do now?”
She nodded. “Take it off.”
Christ and all the saints, but he liked it when she gave him an order. He was so hard now, it was painful. In a hurry, he pulled the tail from his trousers, unfastened the sleeves, and yanked the linen over his head. Before he could grab her, she held out a hand to still him.
“Wait.”
Now he was the one to groan as her hands went to his shoulders, then ran down his arms. Her touch was like liquid fire, making all of his senses come alive. When her fingers slid over to his chest and down to his belly, he inhaled sharply. Her skillful fingers toyed with his waistband. “What is under here?”
“For a virgin, ye arenae verra demure.” His voice was a low growl, and he felt like a caged beast, ready to pounce at the first chance of freedom.
She frowned. “What is the demure?”
“Nothing I want, lass. Loosen the placket and see what’s there.” Please. He needed her to touch him.
Bold as ever, she didn’t hesitate. She’d told Duncan she wanted him almost from the start, and even though he’d been a complete arse, she hadn’t changed her mind. She unfastened the trousers and he sprang free, hard and hot against her small hand. He had to bite his cheek to keep control as his head went dizzy with arousal. She murmured something in Portuguese.
“I hope that was a compliment,” he said.
She gave him an enigmatic smile then moved her hands to his hips and slid the trousers down. When his trousers were on the floor, she moved around him, running her hands over his bottom then giving it a squeeze. His entire body quivered at her touch, and though Duncan liked a forward woman as much as any man, he’d been pushed to his limit. When she moved to his side, he grasped her hands and yanked her to him. “Like what ye see?”
“Very much.” Her voice was breathless and her eyes hazy with desire.
“My turn.” Releasing her hands, he grasped her shift in both hands and pulled it up and over her head. He thought she might try and cover herself, but she stood straight in the flickering lamplight. Her skin was smooth and olive, her breasts small and tilted upward, the nipples dusky and hard. The small triangle of dark hair between her legs beckoned him. “Let me worship ye, lass.”
He dropped to his knees and kissed her belly, drawing her close with one hand on her round bottom. He left that hand there, kneading that ripe flesh while his mouth trailed lower, his tongue darting out to learn the feel of her and licking at her sensitive skin. Finally he was between her legs. She smelled of soap and the hint of vanilla that he always associated with her. And when his mouth found her lips, parted them, and then his tongue explored until it came upon that sensitive nub, he tasted her. Her body went rigid as he laved and suckled. He put both hands on her hips to hold her steady as she was shaking. Her hips began to move in an instinctual rhythm he knew well, and she moaned in that way that made him all but come just at the sound.
He could have done this all night. He loved the way she felt in his arms and the sounds she made. He’d never known what it was to be wanted this much.
She gasped and her body arched, and he knew if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have collapsed. Instead she wantonly pushed her sex against his mouth, and he felt the way she tightened and then exploded with release. Feeling pleased with himself, he grinned and decided to do it all over again. But she went limp. He let her fall over his shoulder then stood, her bottom in the perfect spot for his hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked dreamily.
“Putting ye in bed.” He dumped her onto the soft mattress, and she looked up at him in a tangle of limbs.
“That was much more romantic in my mind.”
“Imagined me doing that, did ye?”
“I imagined you doing many things.”
He wedged a knee between her legs, opening them, enjoying the view of her glistening pink sex. “Ye dinnae need tae imagine any more.” He kissed her, and she wrapped herself around him. Her skin slid against his skin, her flesh warm against his. His cock knew exactly where it wanted to be, and he pushed the head against her warm, wet entrance.
“Sim,” she said, her voice filled with desire.
“I dinnae want tae hurt ye, lass.”
She pushed his hair back from his face. “My sister says the pain is worth the pleasure. Can you make it worth the pleasure?”
It sounded like a challenge, and Duncan was always ready for a challenge. He kissed her again, entered her slightly. She was so tight and felt so good as she closed around him. At her moan he had to restrain himself from plunging in. Instead, his fingers found that tight, swollen nub and stroked it. He thought it might take time for her to react. After all, she’d just orgasmed, but a moment later, she was breathing heavily and moving her hips in an undisguised invitation. He slid in deeper, pausing when her channel was too tight, allowing her to adjust to the feel of him and allowing himself to catch his breath.
His lips found her breast, closing in on the nipple and suckling as his fingers danced against her. Her hips arched, and it took all he had not to thrust inside her. He slid just a bit deeper, and Christ but he wanted to sheath himself in her. “Am I hurting ye, lass?” he murmured between teeth gritted against the growing pleasure.
“Sim. Não. Duncan!”
He knew what she wanted, knew he could give it to her. He pressed his thumb against her throbbing clitoris, and she cried out and stiffened. Duncan squeezed his eyes shut at the feel of her muscles clenching around him, and then as soon as they began to loosen, as she began to come down, he slid deeper. He expected her to cry out in protest at the discomfort, but she clawed at his back, urging him closer. He moved slowly until he was buried inside her, his face in her neck, her legs wrapped around him.
This. Yes, this. He had lived all of his life to be here with this woman, in this moment.
He looked down at her, and her dark eyes met his. “Show me,” she said.
He moved inside her, watched her wince slightly, then relax. He was careful, gentle, and gradually, she moved with him, learning his rhythm, her breath beginning to hitch when he pressed in just the right places. He might have been able to pleasure her again, but he had restrained himself too long. His own need crested, and he swore. “I cannae wait, lass.” With a feral growl, he gave himself to the pleasure, pulling out and spilling his seed on garments scattered beside them. And then he collapsed beside her, gathering her close, needing her near him. His hands roved her body, her hair, her lips. He did not know how he had survived without touching her, without having her scent surround him.