Sensation was scorching through her, the insistent throbbing in her groin growing into a desperate, pounding need. She was so hot, so swollen. She bucked against his thigh, clenching it between hers, desperate for release. He pulled his leg away, unfastened her jeans, and pushed inside her underwear. He groaned as he stroked the wetness up and down the length of her opening.
Slowly and deliberately he ran his fingers to her clitoris, and she jerked, crying out. He rubbed her wetness over her nub, licking and sucking each breast in turn, as she shook beneath him.
He dipped back into her core, pushing two fingers inside her, growling as she tensed around him. Any illusion she had of control dissipated. He circled her clitoris with his thumb, inexorably increasing the speed and the pressure. She cried his name, giving her body over to pleasure, over to him.
He held behind her head and anchored his mouth to hers, swallowing the sounds of his name. Her climax began to ignite, building within her, a light getting brighter and brighter until it exploded in wave after wave of pleasure. She stiffened, her jaw locking, as the orgasm ripped through her. He kept the rhythm going with his hand, eking out every last ounce of feeling until she jerked and collapsed back onto the bed.
Her breathing was heavy, her limbs like lead. She stared at the cabin roof, the wool insulation like fluffy clouds above her. He tugged off her jeans and pants, then lay by her side, tracing her freckles.
‘You’re so beautiful. I don’t think I could ever get enough of you,’ he murmured.
Zoe flushed, seeing the intensity in his eyes, her nakedness in contrast to his clothed body. ‘I haven’t had any of you yet,’ she replied softly. She reached down to unbutton his trousers and he stopped her, shifting till he was crouched above her, clasping her arms by her sides on the mattress. His hold around her wrists was soft, but when she tried to move, it became steel.
‘Rory?’
‘I can wait. I haven’t finished with you yet.’
He touched his lips to the freckles at the base of her throat. Zoe felt his soft kisses, the caress of his tongue, the tickling of his hair as it brushed against her skin. He was frustratingly slow; teasing her, kissing down to her breasts and around them, but never quite reaching the centre. Her desire uncoiled itself within her again, searching for more. She moved, trying to angle herself into his mouth, a sound of frustration whimpering out, as she fought to free her arms. ‘Rory, please.’
He kept her anchored to the bed and licked across the tip of one nipple. She jerked, a flash of sensation shooting down through her. He licked the other one and she cried out. Her legs were restless, her feet pointing and flexing, trying to relieve the tingles that fizzed through them. The soles of her feet were itchy, desperate to be scratched, needing a physical release of any kind. He spread one of his powerful legs across hers, keeping her still on the mattress as he took a nipple, greedily sucking on it, rubbing his tongue over it, as she panted and arched up against him.
He moved to the other breast, moving his stubble lightly across the end, taking it in his mouth as she sobbed with her need for release. Her desire was trapped within her, contained by his weight, agonising flashes of intensity rushing through her.
He released her wrists and she buried her hands in his hair, scratching her nails over his scalp and pulling at the roots. He kissed down to her belly button, swirling his tongue inside, then spread her legs.
Freed, she opened to him, panting, delirious with desire. He spread her soft lips and buried his tongue in her, humming his enjoyment. Another orgasm was building, a deep fire he was stoking with the hot and hard movement of his tongue. He held tightly behind her thighs, licking up her length, lapping at her clitoris, feasting on her. Her breath quickened and she tensed her inner muscles, chasing her pleasure. Her legs shuddered and he sped up the movement of his tongue, driving her over the edge. She screamed his name and clamped his head between her thighs, arching her back up, her body wracked with sensation. He held on, sweeping and sucking, as she convulsed, calling out his name, again and again.
Her legs fell back to the mattress, fingers fisting into the duvet beneath her. He brought his tongue to her opening and licked slowly up to her sensitive bud. She jerked beneath him, her breathing ragged, her legs twitching.
‘God, Rory, I can’t,’ she protested feebly, her hands fluttering off the duvet then dropping back down again with a resigned thump.
He licked deliberately again, inching two fingers slowly into her. She clenched around him, spreading her legs wider, needing more. He increased the speed of his tongue, thrusting his fingers in and out. She arched back, stiffening, her arms and legs rigid as another orgasm tore through her.
She pulled at his hair, urging him upwards. He moved up beside her, stroking down her body. She stared drowsily at him, her heart overflowing, seeing her own feelings reflected back at her.
‘What just happened?’ she asked.
‘You happened. You’re incredible.’
Zoe blushed. ‘And why do you still have your clothes on?’ she asked, frowning.
He grinned and smoothed her hair off her forehead, damp with a thin sheen of sweat. ‘I told you I wanted to make it good for you,’ he whispered.
‘Good? You’ve ruined me for bloody life. How could anyone else ever compare to that?’
Rory swallowed and blinked. ‘I’d do anything for you. Anything.’ There was a desperate edge to his voice, as if they were loving each other at the edge of oblivion. She stroked down his jaw, soothing him.
‘Well, you can start by taking off your clothes and finishing what you’ve started,’ she replied with a smile.
Rory knelt above her and unbuttoned his shirt. Zoe’s mouth ran dry. He was the most gorgeous man she had ever known. She remembered the first time she saw him in the castle courtyard, the sight of his muscles moving as he buried the axe in the wood. And now it wouldn’t just be his shirt that was off, it would be everything. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him. He undid the last button and she gasped, her stomach fluttering. She clamped her hands over her mouth.
He stilled. ‘Please tell me you aren’t about to laugh? My ego was feeling quite good until about ten seconds ago.’
Zoe leapt up, sounds hiccupping in her throat. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s just you’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t believe this is happening. And I’m nervous you won’t enjoy it, and I haven’t done this for such a long time, and, and—’ She broke off, beginning to hyperventilate.
He took her in his arms, holding her into the warmth of his body. ‘Shhh. Breathe. It’s all okay. In through the nose and out through the mouth.’
Soothed by his voice and his touch, Zoe followed his directions, and her laughter slowly sputtered to a halt. She sagged and he shifted against her. She stared at him in surprise. ‘You’re still, erm…’ she trailed off, looking downwards.
‘Hard?’ replied Rory. ‘You’re in my arms and you’re naked. Of course I’m hard. You make me hard when you’re fully clothed and five miles away.’
Zoe blushed. ‘Maybe if I help take off your clothes, that might help my nerves?’ she suggested shyly.
He nuzzled her cheek. ‘I’m up for that.’
She turned her head to find his lips, their warm softness melting her to the bones. She kissed him with her soul, trying to tell him what she was too unsure to say with words. As she slipped the tip of her tongue into his mouth, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, down and off to the bed behind him.
She ran her fingers up the expanse of his back; ripples of muscles defined by a life of work outdoors. She pressed her lips tightly against his, running a hand into his hair, pressing her breasts into the hot skin of his chest. Her heart thudded as he held her to him.
Her whole body was pulsating, pushing at the inside of her skin. She reached between them, pulling at his trousers. A tremor ran through him, but he didn’t try to stop her. She undid the buttons, tugging them and his boxers away from his jutting arousal and down. She
touched his cock, the skin as soft as silk, encasing a rod as hard as steel. He was huge. Her heart pounded as she stroked up the length, encircling him, rubbing the wetness at the tip over the swollen head. She didn’t know how she would fit him in but she would sure as hell try.
She broke the kiss. ‘Do you have a condom?’
Rory stared at her blankly, breathing heavily, his pupils big and dark. ‘I didn’t want to presume,’ he replied. ‘Do you?’
Zoe shook her head, then scooted out of his arms and off the bed. ‘Luckily my friend Sam did the presuming for both of us.’ She grabbed the package she’d picked up from the post office and brought it back to the bed. ‘She sent us a present,’ Zoe told him, opening it up.
She pulled out a box. ‘You have got to be fucking kidding me.’ She showed it to Rory, who laughed.
Sam had wrapped the box of condoms in white paper. On the outside, in thick black pen, she had written ‘How desperate are you?’ and encased the box in an entire roll of Sellotape. Zoe picked at it with her nails, wailing as she failed to find a way in. Rory took his Leatherman out of his trouser pocket. He flipped open the blade and deftly cut through the tape, passing it back to Zoe to open as he ripped his trousers and boxers off.
She excavated the box from its Sellotape tomb. They were XL sized. ‘She obviously knows you well,’ she said with a smirk.
Rory’s cheeks burned. He took the box from her, pulled out a condom and ripped the packet open. He looked at Zoe and she nodded, watching him as he unfurled it down over his length. The sky was darkening outside and the light was getting lower, making his muscles more defined. She wanted his body on hers, to feel him inside her. She scooted back on the bed, reaching out to draw him to her. He exhaled a long tense breath.
‘You’re so beautiful, Zoe.’
Her heart skittered out of control. He exuded raw, unfettered masculinity. She pulled him to her, spreading her legs, angling her hips up to meet him. He settled between them, cradling her head, teasing open her mouth with his tongue. He gently nudged at her opening, pushing against her tightness.
He was so big, she involuntarily tensed, not knowing how she could take him in. He held her hips still with one hand, taking the other to stroke along the line of her jaw, soothing her, his tongue caressing her mouth. She sighed, and let him ease her into relaxation, the hot tip of his tongue trailing fire across her lips as he slowly inched his cock into her. With every lick, he pressed deeper, her muscles prickling with the sweet invasion.
He moved so slowly, so tenderly, as he filled her completely. She trailed her fingers down his back, feeling the movement of his hips, each thrust sending a tingling deep inside as she adjusted to his size. She let his kisses soften her, his breadth stretching her until she was completely wrapped around him. She clasped him to her and he stilled, his cock buried deep, his tongue in her mouth, his body on hers. She felt a fullness, a unity, an all-encompassing love.
She tensed her muscles around him and he tore his lips from hers, panting into her hair. ‘Fuck! Zoe, Jesus!’
She could feel his body vibrating with the effort of holding back. He drew shallow breaths into her neck, fisting his hands into her curls, as he began a slow rhythm; withdrawing slowly, then plunging deep within her.
Zoe cried out, clawing at his back, wanting, needing more. Each thrust sent a shower of sparks through her, igniting a fire that throbbed and burned. She brought her legs over his, tucking her feet under his thighs, and raked her nails into his hair and down his spine, holding onto the rock-solid muscles of his bottom, pushing him deeper. He growled into her neck, nipping at it and thrusting harder as she brought her hips up to meet him.
She felt his restraint but wanted more, clenching as he withdrew, dragging her pelvic floor against him. Each time he sank his cock deep, she gasped, light tearing up through her body. Another release unfurled within her, flames licking down her inner thighs and up into her abdomen. She reached between them to touch herself. She saw him watching, as her fingers circled her wet clitoris.
‘Fuck, Zoe! I can’t, I can’t hold on,’ he hissed through gritted teeth.
But she was gone, crying his name, bucking her hips up to him, her muscles spasming, her body imploding around him.
He let go, thrusting into her, roaring her name. She clutched at him, his orgasm pumping deep within her. He collapsed on top of her, fighting for breath, shaking in her arms.
He tried to move his weight from her but she clutched at him with a fierce strength, wanting to keep him inside for as long as possible. His face was buried in her neck, his hair lying like a blanket over her face. He flicked it off her and she kissed him. He stared at her as if she was the dawn of creation, the Holy Grail, nirvana. She smiled and he blinked, as if trying to reassure himself she was still there and not a figment of his imagination.
Zoe tried to speak but his weight was too much. He immediately shifted, withdrawing from her and lying on his side, head propped up on his hand. He traced from freckle to freckle down her body. She ran her fingers over the hard ridges of his abdomen, and her toes through the hairs on his legs.
She stared at him, the breath stopping in her throat. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, the most desirable human on the planet. Even dipping him in chocolate couldn’t increase his appeal any further. That thought sent a reminder from her stomach to her brain she hadn’t eaten for a while.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Always,’ he replied, taking her nipple in his mouth, licking it with languid strokes, his free hand rubbing the tip of the other. It hardened under his touch.
‘No, I, I mean, I mean food. Do you want— Ah!’ She broke off as he gently squeezed her nipple, rolling it as she writhed beneath him.
He blew a steady stream of cool air across the wet tip. ‘Oh, I want to eat all right,’ he promised, and reached for the box of condoms on the bed, taking out another. He took the used condom off his hard cock, tied a knot in the end and dropped it over the side of the bed onto the floor.
Zoe was confused. ‘What? Again?’
Rory kissed down the centre line of her abdomen, swirling his tongue in her belly button, then kissing into her curls. He gave her a devilish smile. ‘Oh yes. Only this time there’ll be a bit more finesse.’
* * *
The next morning Zoe sat at her chair in the library, a dopey smile on her face. It hadn’t been a dream. They’d had sex. A lot of sex. Universe-shattering sex. They had continued to make love as the cabin darkened into night, all thought of food abandoned. Rory promised he would make it up to her with a meal the next night, and when he’d finally left to get back to Bandit, she had flopped back onto the bed and passed out in a blissful haze.
Now, back at the library, she mixed work and pleasure by editing the photos from the photoshoot. They went into three folders: one for the generic castle shots, one for the photos of Rory, and one for the pictures Fiona had taken of the two of them. She decided to come to the wedding album last.
The pictures of him in his kilt made her shift about on the plastic chair, her heart beating faster. In the library, the least erotic space in Kinloch, she was feeling extremely hot and bothered. She tried to look objectively at the photos, imagining different people finding the website. What would they see?
She knew in her heart of hearts what they would see. They would see a male in his prime, a fantasy, no matter if you were young or old, gay or straight. For many, it would be a purely sexual one, as they took in his perfect form, his virility, his eyes staring out at you from the screen. For some it would be a fantasy about how they wished they looked, what would happen if they woke up one day in his body instead of their own. For others it would be a historical fantasy, a reimagining of the past, when the world was shaped by warriors, not politicians.
To her, he was everything. Strong, funny, caring, and hot as hell. She couldn’t stop flicking through the photos. In the end, the homepage was entirely made up of the one of him on the battlements, s
word in one hand, flag in the other. She used the one with his shirt on, but you could still see his muscular chest underneath. The main text read ‘Discover the Power of Kinloch Castle’. She added more text in a block underneath, then went to the other pages she had written, adding more photos and playing about with the layout.
Finally, she came to the photos of her and Rory together. They seemed like a couple in love, a couple who saw only each other. She didn’t know if she could ever use them on the castle’s website. There was a rawness, an intimacy about them. Should she send Sam a photo of her and Rory in their wedding outfits? Title it ‘Thanks for the condoms, look what we did today!’
She sniggered to herself. The thought of her reaction was almost enough for her to do it, but then Sam would ring her parents, they would raise their freak-out level to DEFCON two, drop whatever they were doing and drive up. So, she resisted the temptation and instead went back to the website. Rory had texted her his email address, the descriptive ‘[email protected]’, and she emailed him a long list of questions about the history of the castle she hoped he would be able to answer. She then went online to do a more thorough search for information.
Ten minutes later she found a few references to the estate on the Highland council website. She opened the one with the most recent date on it and flicked over the text. It was a planning application for a spa and retreat centre. She scanned the details, seeing the name Stuart MacGinley, then the map of the site. It couldn’t be right? The area was by the loch, and her land was right in the middle of it.
As her brain processed the information, she fell apart. Her heart stopped with a shooting pain, and her stomach rolled, trying to empty its contents. She gripped the edge of the desk, her head swimming, reading and re-reading. Trying to find a way to convince herself what she was looking at was incorrect, that she was wrong, that it was all wrong. She was falling out of a heavenly dream into a living hell, as she tried to control the mouse to print out the web page.
Highland Games: sparkling, sexy and utterly unputdownable - the romantic comedy of the year! (The Kinloch Series) Page 19