Haunted by the Highlander: A BDSM Story

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Haunted by the Highlander: A BDSM Story Page 2

by J. A. Bailey


  “Ah, I didn’t say that.”

  He stopped outside her door and Samantha frowned. She didn’t remember telling him her room number. God, she was more drunk than she realised.

  “So it is haunted?”

  Though it was dark, she could sense his gaze on her, his mouth probably twisted in amusement.

  “Maybe.”

  “What’s that meant to mean?”

  “Inverrock is centuries old. Its history spans all the way back to the 11th century. A place like this holds memories. Whether they are ghosts or not, I can’t say.”

  She shoved her key clumsily into the lock and pushed open her door. She felt the kilted man follow closely behind, the heat from his body quickly traversing the space between them. She breathed deeply and frowned. She expected the smell of cologne or perhaps soap but she couldn’t smell anything. Not even the scent of male musk.

  Facing him again, she noted that the light coming in through her windows was brighter here and she could see his features clearly. Jesus, he was sexy. So broad and rugged. He towered over her small frame. Her gaze landed on his lips which were, as she had suspected, tilted in amusement.

  “Have you seen any ghosts?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He chuckled but said nothing and Samantha shook her head. What an elusive man he was. Picking her way carefully across the floor, she swore as she stumbled over her trainers.

  “Are you okay, lass?”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped. Her shin smashed into the chair and she yelped, clutching at her leg. She hopped around for a moment and stumbled, falling with a cry to the floor.

  There was a rasp and a crackle as the man lit a match and set it to the candles on the mantelpiece. He looked over her with a raised brow.

  “Who carries matches around in this day and age?” she muttered to herself as she pulled herself to sitting and inspected her shin.

  “I do, especially in an old place like this.” He knelt down in front of her and brushed his fingers over her leg.

  She gasped but couldn’t bring herself to withdraw her leg from his touch. Her skin tingled with awareness.

  “No permanent damage,” he concluded, meeting her gaze from under his brow. “Though you’ll probably have a bruise in the morning.”

  Samantha stared at him as his fingers lingered on her calf, stroking absently. An odd pressure pushed against her back, like icy cold fingers, and with a slight cry, she flung herself forwards. She looped her arms around the man’s neck and he gave a startled grunt before wrapping his arms around her waist.

  He gazed down at her and she realised now his eyes were green. Deep, dark green and they sucked her in. “S-sorry,” she flustered but before she could pull back from him, he swooped down and captured her lips.

  A vague part of her wondered if she should pull away - I don’t even know his name - but his tongue invaded her mouth and all thoughts of escape left her and she moaned against him. God, this man knew how to kiss!

  His lips were oddly cool but her body surged with heat as his tongue clashed with hers and she snaked her hand up through his hair, tugging at the silky strands. He growled and pressed the kiss deeper, increasing the ache between her thighs as his hands kneaded her back. The man hauled her onto his lap and she stiffened and made a sound of surprise as the evidence of his desire prodded her bottom.

  Releasing her mouth, he looked at her with regret. "Sorry."

  Samantha shook her head rapidly. "Don't be...I..." She sucked in a breath as she noted the hungry look in his eyes. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. This gorgeous, sexy Scot wanted her. She allowed a smile to thread its way across her face. "I'm not."

  Studying her for a moment, he tangled a hand into her hair and swept it back from her face. "Good," he said before claiming her lips once more.

  Samantha relaxed into him and let the desire sweep through her body once more. Her skin prickled, her body throbbed. Never had any man had such an effect on her. Not even Marcello. Why not shag him? If the pulse of his cock was anything to go by then this was where it was heading. A hand curled around her neck, his callused tips sending a shudder down her spine and she sighed, gripping him tighter. Yes, why not indeed.

  Curious fingers snaked under the neckline of her wet dress and she arched up into his touch. He groaned at the feel of her soft flesh before pressing down across her stiff nipple. He plucked and pulled roughly at it until she whimpered. With a sudden movement, he thrust her dress around her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra along with it and his mouth was suddenly on her breast.

  The moist heat of his mouth made her cry out as he pressed her back against his arm, cradling her as his teeth went from one breast to the other.

  "God, you taste good," he murmured against her skin. "You are so bloody gorgeous, lass."

  Her heart twinged in appreciation and she threw back her head and gave herself up to his mouth, digging her nails into his scalp in a bid to keep him in place. His mouth left her skin and she shuddered as the air chilled around her. The man drew her back up to sitting and palmed her flesh as he kissed down her neck.

  "I want to fuck you," he told her as he unhooked her bra.

  Samantha nodded mutely, her eyes wide as his coarse words sent a flutter to her dripping cunt.

  He didn’t say anything, just stared down at her, tracing every inch of her with his gaze. Her nipples hardened so much that they ached. She stared back as she waited. Waited for him to make a move. Waited for that hard cock to be unleashed. Her heart pounded in her ears.

  A hand clasped over her breast again and she sighed in relief as he plucked at her nipple before giving it a sharp tug. She released a small cry of surprise as her pussy flooded and she flopped against his shoulder, his strong arm around her back.

  Cradling her as if she were a delicate treasure, Samantha enjoyed the moment, as the feeling of being protected mingled with the apprehension of what he could do to her with his muscular body and rigid shaft.

  “I want to fuck you,” he murmured into her ear as he dipped his head to nip at her lobe, “really, really hard.” His hand slipped from her breast and pushed underneath the fabric of her dress. She heard the little moan of appreciation as his hand encountered her slick, bare pussy but barely had time to register it before his fingers pressed sharply into her sheath.

  Galvanised by the intrusion of his powerful fingers, she arched back into his arm and he used the opportunity to bite down on her neck, securing her flesh between his teeth as if claiming her. She shuddered and gasped.

  God, she’d never had such a strong reaction to a man. She gripped at his arms, relishing the feel of his undulating muscles as he finger-fucked her roughly, his thumb occasionally rasping across her clit. His take-control manner plucked at the submissive, feminine part of her. The part that wanted to be needed and desired by a dominant, commanding man. The part that no other man had reached for many, many years.

  His fingers left her abruptly and he threaded a hand roughly into her hair, jerking her head away from him. “Stand up,” he commanded hoarsely.

  Instinctively obeying, Samantha pushed herself to her feet, her legs wavering underneath her. She didn’t need to worry though. The Scotsman was standing in an instant, flattening his hard body against hers as he forced her dress off her, leaving it to slip to the floor. His hands cupped possessively at her hips, coaxing them back into him so she could feel his throbbing cock rubbing against her arse.

  “Jesus, you are so hot.”

  Samantha simply sighed as he worked himself against her, mimicking a fucking motion. Her pussy clenched with every thrust of his kilt-cladded dick until moisture trickled down her leg. Shit, she would kill to have him buried inside her needy cunt right now.

  He squeezed briefly at her arse cheeks, and she whimpered as it felt like his fingers had left imprints in them, before spinning her round and bringing his mouth down on hers. Swallowing her mo
an, he swept his tongue over hers before drawing back and nibbling at her lip. His fingers worked over her back and arse, kneading and stroking her skin. Samantha tried to do the same but his shoulders were so broad and his kisses so consuming that she barely managed to cling onto him. Just when she thought she might press her fingers underneath his jumper, he hauled her into his arms, grasping her buttocks so that she had to wrap her legs around him. Her heels slipped off and clunked to the ground, the sound echoing through the room.

  With a growl, he drove her back against the wall, her spine meeting heavily with the textured wallpaper. Christ, she hadn’t had sex like this since Marcello. This Scotsman sure had the dominant thing going on. Samantha squealed as he explored her mouth further and she dug her nails into his neck. Just as she eased into his kiss, he surprised her by hefting her higher, shifting her legs over his arms and then up and over his shoulders.

  Crying out at his sudden show of strength, Samantha found herself pinned halfway up the wall, with his head buried in her soaking pussy. His hands held her steady and her nervousness quickly dissipated at being so high up as his tongue lapped at her, stroking boldly across her folds with the flat of his tongue.

  He licked forcefully over every part of her sex before settling over her nub, drawing it briefly into his mouth before massaging his tongue over it in small circles. Samantha bucked against him as her legs clamped around his head.

  "Fuck," she cried out as he sucked at her clit.

  No one had ever paid such attention to her pussy before. Her sheath clenched and pulsed against his tongue as he probed it. She could feel the tension building, the unbearable need for release making her sex swell as he continued his torturous routine. Sweeping, licking, sucking. It was almost too much to bear.

  And then he drew her bud into his mouth again and tugged on it rhythmically with his teeth until the pleasure crescendoed, ricocheting through her body and she quaked against him. He held her firm, keeping his mouth buried between her thighs as he licked away her juices.

  When the spasms slowed, he withdrew carefully and dropped her to the floor with ease, sliding her body down his. She bit back a moan as the length of his shaft touched all too briefly to her tender folds.

  "You taste so damned good," he told her before kissing her.

  She inhaled the musky scent and tasted herself on his tongue. It was so decadent, so sinful and her sex pulsed back into life as the need to taste his sex overtook her.

  Blinking away the satisfied haze that her climax drowned her in, she tugged at the waist of his kilt before bunching the fabric in her hands. She waited a moment, as if waiting for permission and he nodded. With a smile, she dropped to her knees and hauled his kilt up and over his straining erection.

  "Oh God," she breathed as she came face to face with his pulsing, shining cock.

  A small drop of pre-cum hung from the end and she darted eagerly forwards to lick it up, savouring its salty taste on her tongue.

  "Uhmmmm," she moaned as she wrapped a hand around his shaft, feeling it surge under her fingers, and drew it into her mouth.

  Circling the smooth head with her tongue, she explored his ridges, pressing against the sensitive underside of his dick and drawing back. His hands in her hair urged her forwards once more and she took him as far back as she could.

  “That’s it, take it deep, lass.”

  The man grunted with surprise as she swallowed and drew him further down her throat, taking most of his length. Samantha grabbed his hard buttocks and held him there for a moment before working up and down his cock as he enthusiastically screwed her mouth. His distinctive male tang on her tongue sent a curl of need straight to her still twitching pussy.

  His buttocks flexed beneath his kilt as he rocked back and forth and emitted small groans and harsh breaths. Samantha stared up at him as he towered over her. In spite of the spit dribbling down her chin, she would happily have him fucking her mouth all day. God, he was so bloody gorgeous, especially with his jaw clenched tight in pleasure. The pleasure that she was giving him.

  Feeling the sudden surge of his cock, Samantha picked up the pace. His legs vibrated with unspent power as his fingers pressed into her scalp, holding her in place until his cock exploded, sending streams of hot cum straight down her throat. She gulped and shuddered as he milked himself against her throat.

  “Mmm, swallow it,” he ordered huskily.

  He went to pull out but she gripped his arse and held him in place as she licked and sucked his semi-hard shaft clean.

  His fingers curled around her and he hauled her to her feet. She wanted to protest - I could lick his cock forever - but his muscular arms came around her and he held her tight as he swept her hair back from her face, pressing an urgent kiss to her mouth. She used the opportunity to force her hands underneath his jumper and shirt.

  “Oh…” she sighed as her hands met with sleek, warm flesh.

  The man laughed and pulled off his jumper and shirt. His hand went to his kilt but she touched his arm and shook her head. “Keep it on.” He raised an eyebrow as he grinned at her. “Please?” she begged.

  He shrugged and kicked off his boots, yanking off his socks with them. Samantha expelled a heavy breath as she studied him, completely forgetting her own nudity. His chest flexed with every breath and he reminded her of a warrior. Somehow, without the bulk of his jumper, he appeared even more daunting.

  “Are you done, lass?”

  Samantha giggled and nodded before flattening herself against him. His breath hissed between his teeth as their skin connected and her skin prickled at the contact, her nipples pressed hard against him.

  The Scotsman rubbed his large hands over her, sweeping over her buttocks as he kissed at her neck. Abruptly, he turned her around and urged her towards the bed.

  “Kneel down,” he commanded as her knees hit the edge of the bed.

  Her heart kicked up as she got down onto her knees, his hand pushing lightly on the back of her neck. The light pressure of his hand pressed her over the bed so that her bottom jutted out and she rested her head against the thick satin throw as a shiver on anticipation threaded through her.

  He knelt down beside her and smoothed his hand over her arse, dipping briefly between her legs and making her jolt towards his fingers.

  “You seem like the kind of girl who would enjoy a spanking,” he mused.

  A strangled noise left her throat. Oh God, yes. How did he know? Was it the way her bottom bucked into his hand that gave it away?

  “Do you like a spanking, lass?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered as his hand continued to stroke agonisingly slowly across each arse cheek, “Yes, yes, yes…” she continued to whisper.

  His palm came down so suddenly that she’d barely had time to realise he’d stopped caressing her. She yelped as the sharp slap resonated in her ears and her bottom smarted. The scent of her arousal suffused the air as he smacked again and again, shifting his attention from one buttock to the other. Her skin stung and she snivelled as the blows became heavier, the man seemingly intent on spanking every inch of her trembling arse, but she’d never felt so alive.

  She squealed as he gave her four more sharp smacks. Two to each cheek, harder and stronger than the previous ones. Then his lips came down and tickled across each heated buttock before trailing up her spine and sweeping aside her hair and kissing the back of her neck. His kilt chafed against her arse as his erection prodded into her and his hands came underneath her to cup at her breasts, drawing her upright and against him.

  He kissed his way across her shoulders, nipping lightly at her skin as he plucked at her nipples. She rubbed herself against his cock as the ache in her cunt became unbearable.

  “Please,” she murmured.

  “Please what?”

  “I need your cock…in me…” she grated out as his sharp tugs on her nipples stole the breath from her.

  He chuckled and hefted her into his arms, hooking one under her legs. He lifted her easily an
d climbed onto the bed. The mattress sank beneath him as he lay back and positioned her over him. She sucked in a breath as she took in all that muscle laid out just for her.

  “Ride me,” he said.

  Hell, yes. Samantha grinned, aware that she probably looked like the Cheshire cat when she did so. She flipped up his kilt and gave his erection a quick rub, feeling it harden further beneath her fingertips. She shifted forwards, settling her drenched folds over him, teasing them both as his velvety head slipped across them.

  His large hand came suddenly around her neck as the other one gripped at her hip and he shoved her downwards, impaling her viciously on his thick length.

  “Fuck,” she cried out at the sudden intrusion as he urged her up with the hand on her neck before directing her down onto him again.

  The hand around her neck remained firm, not squeezing but simply controlling her. The heat of his fingers wrapped around her made her feel oddly protected, the knowledge of all that contained strength tugging at that hidden womanly part of her once more. Here she was completely at his mercy, giving over every ounce of her trust and he knew exactly how far to push that trust. How to give her everything she needed.

  Pressing his hips into her, he grunted as her sheath clenched around him. With the positioning of his hands, Samantha barely had to do anything. He controlled her movements, allowing him to pound upwards into her until she vibrated with need and their skin sheened. The hand on her hip closed suddenly over her sex and he pressed his thumb into her clit. He held it there as their violent rocking motion made her nub run furiously over his callused digit.

  Her body tightened as the sensation in her pussy verged on the edge of unbearable and his hand on her neck became more determined, plunging her down onto him with increasing force.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” she squealed.

  “Say my name,” he groaned. “Finn. Say it,” he commanded.

  “Oh, Finn…” she cried out as the tension claimed her, her pussy pulsing as her orgasm surged through her clit and inside of her, spiralling through her body.

  “Sam…” he muttered against her hair as she collapsed forwards and he thrust up into her, his salty spray surging into her pulsing cunt.

 

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