‘Anna said your colouring is your mother’s mark.’
‘You spoke to Anna?’ she asked, her spirits rose. ‘Is she well?’
‘Once she recovered from fainting at the news, aye, she is well.’
She took a deep breath and met his gaze then. Now, instead of the anger and exhaustion, she felt only desire and a need she could not identify there.
‘Alan,’ she whispered. ‘I lied about so many things to you.’
‘Did you lie when you told me you wanted me?’ He lifted her chin up and kissed her lips quickly. ‘Did you lie about that, Sorcha MacMillan?’ She could feel the heat of his breath on her face and his fingers tangled more in her hair, holding her close.
‘Nay, Alan Cameron. I spoke the truth about wanting you.’ She could not move or breathe then. Her body ached and felt as though she would die if he did not touch her soon.
‘And I spoke the truth about loving you, Sorcha.’
Tears gathered at his declaration. It made her leaving so much harder, but his words could not make her stay. They changed nothing for them, but it made one thing very clear to her.
‘I must leave in the morn, but I want to spend this night in your arms, Alan. Give me this night, I pray you.’
He stilled and searched her face, a glimmer of hope in his gaze then. She did not tell him otherwise, for she wanted this night with him so she had it to remember for ever. Alan looked as though he would argue for a moment before nodding his answer.
‘Aye, Sorcha. I want this night,’ he whispered against her mouth before he took it.
In spite of the calm and quiet manner in which he’d entered the cottage, all of that disappeared as he tasted her then. His tongue sought entrance and she opened to him. His hands slid up behind her head and he held her tightly to him, slanting his face and kissing her over and over again. She grabbed on to his arms to keep herself standing and felt the blanket slip off her shoulders.
The bedgown she wore was thin and provided little cover. The chill air made her shiver. Or mayhap it was his kisses that did that? Soon his hands released her hair and moved down over her shoulders, along her back until he cupped her bottom and pulled her up and to him. Sorcha gasped as their bodies touched, her soft curves against his hard, muscled thighs and chest.
With little effort, he carried her so across the cottage to the pallet in the corner. Kneeling, he let her down on to the bed and followed her, pushing himself into the cradle of her thighs, against the place that ached the most for his touch. She watched as he leaned back, releasing his hold on her and tugging the belt that held his plaid in place free, then tossing it away. His plaid and then his shirt were next and she watched as every inch of his sculpted chest was exposed to her.
Her body heated and, without hesitation this time, she reached up and outlined the edges of those muscles. He shivered then and she felt powerful when she realised she’d caused that reaction in him. She flattened her palms against his hot skin and caressed him, from his chest down towards his waist, watching his eyes close and hearing the shallow breaths he exhaled. She hadn’t known she’d laughed aloud until he opened his eyes and spoke.
‘Enjoy your power now, for you will soon be under my touch.’
The passionate words promised something that she did not fear. Indeed she wanted to feel the rush of desire and wanting race through her as it had before at his intimate touch. But, she took his words as an invitation to do as she would. And she did.
Sitting up, she reached out and loosened the laces at his waist. He inhaled sharply and held his breath as she slipped her hands inside the border of his breeches and tugged them down. Every inch of his body was more beautiful than the last. Her fingers touched the curly hair below his waist, but that did not stop her.
Bolder now and ready to claim what she wanted, Sorcha moved her hand deeper until she felt his hard flesh against her palm. Encircling the thick rod of him with her fingers, she watched as he gasped at every movement of her fingers over him. He aided her access by shoving his breeches down further and she watched as his erect flesh sprang free of the clothing.
Sorcha stopped then and stared at it, at him. This part of him would be inside of her soon, deep in a private place and changing her for ever. How it would happen, she could only guess.
‘Do not lose courage now, lass,’ he whispered. ‘Learn me.’ He leaned closer and kissed her, plunging his tongue inside her mouth. As he would his flesh into hers soon. ‘Touch me, Sorcha. Touch me.’
He knelt there before her, exposed, rampant, wanting her to touch him. So she did. Without his breeches to block her, she used both hands to explore him. She’d seen a man’s privy parts before, but did not expect them to feel as they did under her hands. Hard. Hot. Smooth. Throbbing in her grasp.
Every touch, every sensation of her fingers on him echoed in her own body and she found herself panting as he did as she cupped her hands and held him in her palms. He moaned as she stroked up and around the length and width of him. Her breasts grew tight and her own flesh throbbed as she learned him. When a small bead of moisture gathered at the opening at the top of his flesh, she leaned over to look more closely at it. She was wet between her legs and this seemed his body’s reaction.
Another moan echoed in the silence around them as he guided her hands to capture him and to stroke up and down in quicker movements. He thrust then, his hips pushing forward and bringing him even closer to her face. What would it be like to kiss him there?
‘Nay, lass,’ he whispered in a ragged voice. ‘Have some pity on me.’
Sorcha did not ken exactly what he meant by that, but she drew back and instead slid her hands down over his strong thighs, enjoying the way he tensed under her palms. The differences between their bodies fascinated her and she moved her hands around until she could touch his buttocks. Again his hips thrust forward as she massaged and stroked his firm muscles there. Was there no part of him that was not hard and muscular?
He’d held himself in check, barely, but now he needed to touch her and explore her body as thoroughly as she did his. Alan eased back out of her grasp and leaned back on his heels.
‘Take off your gown and lie back, love,’ he urged.
Alan saw the momentary hesitation as she heard his words. He wanted to see every inch of her. He wanted to touch and taste every part of her body before he finally let himself find satisfaction. He saw the tiniest glimmer of fear in her gaze when she saw and felt his size, knowing he would join with her by putting that part into her body. Now, he wanted to show her such pleasure that it would wipe out any fear between them.
She gathered the length of the bedgown in her hands and tugged it up over her head. The movement brought her breasts, her lovely, pink-tipped breasts, up and out, begging to be touched. Whether she’d pulled her legs closed on purpose or not, she presented him with the most perfect pose as she tossed her gown off the pallet.
Her hair flowed around her, cascading down and swirling over her breasts and her hips. As she moved, the lengthy curls did, too, teasing him and gifting him with enticing peeks at her creamy flesh. If she thought it gave her some measure of protection from his gaze, she was wrong. He reached out and caressed her ankles, easing them apart so he could crawl up between her legs. As he did that, she leaned back until she lay spread before him like a virgin sacrifice to the ancient gods.
But she was his virgin. His to take. His to love.
His cock grew even harder as he watched her slide her hips down on the pallet. His fingers itched to touch the soft curls now before him. Alan reached out and stroked the inside of her legs, watching as she trembled with each inch he moved closer to those curls. He caressed gently, up and up and up, stopping just before he touched them. Her body arched each time as though trying to make him finally reach his goal. Now, she pulled her knees up and her legs fell wide enough that he could see the glistening fle
sh there, plump and wet and aroused for him.
But he wanted her ready for him when he would enter her, to ease whatever pain there might be in their joining. The last time he had rushed his caresses to the most sensitive flesh but now, knowing she was untouched but for him, he would take his time and pleasure her before that last intimacy.
‘Sorcha,’ he said, sliding back so he could lean down between her legs. ‘Look at me.’ She lifted her head and stared at him with glazed eyes. ‘Do not look away.’
She nodded and he dipped his mouth to kiss the inside of her thigh. Sorcha gasped and her legs fell open more. Alan followed with more kisses, open-mouthed, suckling kisses that moved ever closer to his goal. He never took his gaze from hers as he reached the curls there and placed his mouth right on the plump and heated flesh. She moaned and began to close her eyes.
‘Watch me, Sorcha,’ he said. When her gaze was back on his, he slid his hands under and around her thighs, pulling her against his mouth and spreading her even wider. ‘Feel this. Feel me tasting you.’
He licked in long strokes, parting the folds with the tip of his tongue. Her body blossomed beneath his mouth, swelling and growing wet until he lapped at her essence. He felt the moment when she lost herself to the pleasure, falling back and gasping over and over, no longer able to keep her focus on him.
Alan laughed and felt it reverberate through her as he relentlessly pushed her on to more pleasure. Her body arched against his mouth, accepting his tongue as it dived inside her woman’s channel. Tight. She was so very tight and he kenned he was the first to touch her here. He reached his hands over her legs and stroked her there, teasing her with lips and tongue and teeth as he touched her and found her own little, hard bit of flesh waiting for him. She grabbed his hair then and her body bucked against him.
‘Easy now, love,’ he urged. ‘Can you feel it?’ He licked in a long stroke from her core to that bud. ‘Something inside you is pulling tight.’ Another finger plunged in to join the first one deep inside her flesh. ‘Let me show you where it is.’ He rubbed against the sensitive place within her core and was rewarded by a keening sound she moaned out. ‘Do you feel it there, Sorcha?’ He moved his hand, adding a third finger, and she screamed out. ‘Rub against me now, love. Feel me inside you...here...and here.’
Alan moved then, his hand pressing deep within her, until he could kiss her breasts. Now she was completely enthralled, matching the rhythm he’d set with his fingers with her hips, arching and relaxing, faster and faster until he felt everything within her release. The tips of her breasts tightened against his mouth even as her flesh within her throbbed, spasms tightening her inner channel around his fingers.
He could not help but smile as he watched her reach her peak. For several minutes, her body responded and shuddered against his hand, pouring the moisture that would ease his way on to his fingers. Then he knew the moment when she went limp, when her satisfaction filled her and her body relented. As he eased his hold on her and eased back on to his heels again, he nearly came at the sight of her then.
Like the famed goddess of love, she lay open and glistening before him, her body relaxed in that way that complete satisfaction causes. Her hair lay around her, pooled in places that made him ache to touch and outlining her curves in a silken cloud. Her quick and shallow breathing slowed and became even. Alan waited for her to open her eyes, confident that he had brought her to pleasure for the first time in her life.
‘Alan?’ she whispered as she met his gaze. Her hips shook then as another pulse of pleasure raced through her, an aftershock of sorts to what she’d already felt. ‘What happened?’
‘That was pleasure, my love,’ he said, easing to her side and gathering her close.
‘Are we done then? she asked. ‘I thought you had to...’ She glanced at his still-rampant flesh before she looked back at him.
‘Nay, we can have pleasure without joining.’
‘Oh,’ she said, her well-kissed lips forming the perfect shape that would haunt his dreams for ever. He pictured those luscious lips around the head of his cock and his hips flexed against her, letting her know he was not done yet. ‘Oh,’ she repeated.
‘Not done at all.’
‘When will we...?’
Taking her question as an invitation, he began to show her how pleasure could be shared again and again. And that there was so much more to show her.
Chapter Nineteen
If he’d given any indication that he was surprised or ashamed of the way her body became a thing unknown to her, the soft chuckle that he uttered then dispelled her fear that she had acted unseemly. She’d waited for him to enter her until he drove her mad with pleasure and wanting. He seemed to know what he wanted for his touch was exact and with purpose.
She lay there feeling as satisfied as when she ate too much at the Christmastide feast. But this was fullness and satiation of a different kind. One that made her feel as though she could do this again and again and still want it...again. All it took was his hand sliding along her hip towards her breasts to make her body want more.
‘Will you put it inside me now?’ she asked. Even knowing about the pain to come, Sorcha forgot as the magic of his touch roused her body once more.
‘Aye.’
His hand cupped her breast and lifted it so his mouth could cover its tip. He suckled it and gently bit the nipple, before drawing it out from between his teeth. When the tip slid out, she moaned at the exquisite sensation of pleasure that was almost pain. Would he do that again? Would he put his mouth on her flesh and do that again?
‘When, Alan? When?’
She could barely form words to speak her wants and her need as her body arched then. Her legs moved in some restless pattern against his as he took her other breast in his mouth and did the same thing. An unearthly sound escaped from her, for words would not form for her then. He laughed at her and she kenned in her heart that he was enjoying what he did to her and her reaction to him.
‘Soon,’ he promised, putting his hand against her mound and pressing there.
It both eased and worsened the ache deep inside and all she could do was let her body respond. As one finger slid within the sensitive folds between her legs, she arched against his hand. She wanted him there. She wanted him to bring that pleasure, that ache, that need, back. Sorcha needed to make him hurry, so she reached out and took hold of his hardness.
He laughed then, thrusting against her palm. Her mouth watered then and she wondered what that part of him would taste like. But when she pushed herself up, he covered her body with his and lay between her splayed legs. Now, his erect flesh was against her and, when she lifted her hips, it slipped along her cleft. She could feel the wide head of it touch there. Need and desire took over then and she begged him. She wanted him there. She wanted him inside. She wanted him...
‘Now, Alan,’ she urged, grabbing on to his buttocks so he could not move away. ‘Fill me.’
All it took was a slight shift in his hips and he pushed himself inside of her. His hardness slid within her softness, pressing and then stretching her until it was almost too much for her.
Almost.
Then he eased back a scant inch before pushing further. She gasped at the feeling of it. Just when the burning would begin, he would ease back and begin again. His expression was intense above her as he found a pace that left her gasping and moaning. Filling her, then leaving, thrusting deeper before withdrawing, every stroke of his flesh easing his way back in.
An overwhelming sensation raced through her body then. Invaded, aye. Filled, aye. Stretched, aye. But it was not enough. She wanted more. She wanted something. His soft words, more promise than threat, were the only warning she got before he moved.
‘Now, love. Now.’
He guided her legs up and around his hips and began thrusting faster and faster. N
o pausing now, he led her into a primitive rhythm of giving and taking, of full and empty, of need and want. Her body rose to meet his, taking him in so deep he touched her womb. His flesh grew with each stroke until she could not take more of him. Sorcha needed to tell him to stop, but her body opened for him, allowing him in even more.
She could not breathe. She could not think. She wanted to scream as everything within her came loose and shattered around him. Alan threw his head back and groaned loudly as she felt his seed spill inside her. Over and over, more and again, he stroked her deep and hard until every hot drop had been milked from him by the tightening spasms of her flesh. Sorcha lost herself then, giving up to the overwhelming pleasure, as Alan collapsed on her, tucking his head against her neck and breathing heavily.
‘Done,’ she thought she heard him whisper against her skin.
* * *
It took some time before either of them could breathe or speak.
Completely awed by what had happened, Sorcha lay without moving and waited for him to rouse. This feeling, this satisfaction, was bone-deep and permeated her body and soul. She did not want it to be over. She did not want it to go away. It was then, when he moved ever so slightly, that she realised he was still inside her.
She winced at the discomfort there until he slid his flesh out of her. Then she wished he had not. She was empty in a place she’d never kenned was there. But now, she wanted him back inside. She was about to ask him if that was possible, when he lifted his head and stared at her.
‘Did I hurt you, lass?’ he asked. ‘I ken I was rougher than I should have been with it being your first time.’ When he began to sit up, she clutched at his shoulders.
‘I pray you, do not leave yet.’ She feared that once away from her, he would never return. That the night would be over and she would have this emptiness inside her for the rest of her life.
He settled back down and eased to his side, holding her against him as he drew a blanket over them. Cocooned with him, Sorcha leaned her head against his chest and kissed him there. She could feel his heart beat against her mouth and savoured this closeness for she kenned well it would not and could not last.
Claiming His Highland Bride Page 19