Make Love Not Comedy
No chance Calum was getting out of this. Could she tie him down and have her way with him? No, he’d see that coming.
She considered what tactic to employ. Seduction might be his area of expertise, but she was a fast study, and he’d been a proficient teacher. He might be warrior tough, but she could make him tremble, she’d felt the fine tremors run through him. Besides, he’d just shown her his weakness. The man suffered a serious lack of restraint. He tended to get caught up, so she would distract him enough to catch him off–guard.
After arranging a candlelit periphery, she put on soft music. The sight of him fixing the fire rendered her motionless. One side of his face was aglow, his jaw darkened by his light beard angled into a square chin, his hair flecked with gold brushed his neck. He stood up and leaned into the mantle, arms stretched above him, the hard lines of his body graceful. The dusky room cast his broad back in shadow, and the scent of sandalwood candles mingled with wood smoke enticed her. She let out her breath.
A few steps brought her up behind him where she ran her fingernails down his back lightly in waves. The sexy low noise he made in his throat prompted her to knead the muscles in his shoulders.
“That feels nice, m’eudail.” Knowing he treasured her was a direct turn–on. She stayed behind him, slipped her hands under his shirt, around to his chest and down to feel the gentle ripples of his abdomen. Touching his bare skin intensified the pulse beginning to beat low in her womb. The strength of the sensation felt completely new to her.
When she lifted his shirt, he went perfectly still, so she kissed his back, inching the hem up and up, running her fingernails in lazy circles over his skin. When the position was just right she swept the shirt over his head, and while he could have stopped her, he didn’t. Nothing like a good back scratch to distract a man. He turned and gave her a wry look.
“A shirt for a shirt is only fair. Of course you know where it leads.” She used her most sultry voice as she clamped down on his nipples.
His chest drew a slow inhale.
“Touché, lass.”
“You have a beautiful body, Calum. Did you truly look like this before?”
“Yes, when we gave our oath to each other. Shall I tell you about those days?”
“Not now.” That story could wait, like she’d been waiting to have his flesh at her mercy. And she did have him there. His breathing deepened as she kissed him from shoulder to shoulder, and she hadn’t released his nipples. This was fun. She was going to play with him, tease and arouse, exactly as he’d done to her. She tasted every inch of warm skin, slid her lips over hard muscle, titillated each nerve ending, and brought the blood surging to the surface. He stood still all the while. His hands didn’t move to touch her.
Calum made that sexy noise in his throat again, the voice of a wildcat struggling with what he would allow her to do. The pulse in her grew, and she used it like a rhythm to move her body against his.
“You keep doing that to me, and you will find yourself naked on the rug, lass. I’m giving you fair warning. One of us will find some release.”
She didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Her desire was a newfound gift and she wanted to explore. Up and down, across and back in a slow dance of her lips learning his chest, her fingernails travelling his back. Like her insides, the man was hot and fierce and wildly aroused. Perfect.
“Lie down with me,” she whispered, letting her lips touch his earlobe. He pulled her down and tried to place her in a sweet cuddle that would position him behind her, out of reach. Not what she had in mind. Before she thought about what she was doing, she grabbed his groin.
Her gentle squeeze stopped him cold.
“Let go your hand. We talked about this, no? Tonight is for your pleasure.”
“I’m not letting go, and I’m not waiting.” She had a substantial handful for a man unerect. “You don’t seem to be lacking any endowments here.” She palpated him, discerning what was what.
“Bloody hell, woman, that feels good.” He spoke through his teeth. She smiled her best seductive smile, not nearly as refined as his tended to be, but enough to melt a sliver of his tension and pop one of his buttons.
The mixed look on his face of disgruntled and excitement gave her a heady feeling that translated to giddiness. He grabbed her wrist. “That’s enough, lass. There’s nowhere for this to go.”
She squeezed, feeling a fun sort of wickedness. He released the pressure on her wrist, but only slightly. Her desire grew like a wild thing inside her. “Lay back, Calum. I’m not stopping, and if you don’t do as I say, I’ll squeeze you into compliance.” She gave him a little compress as emphasis.
“Holy God, are you meaning to damage me, then?”
“Not permanently.” To have a hold over the rugged warrior was such fun. “What was it you said about some edge between pain and pleasure?”
“I didn’t mean that kind of pain. I was referring to the ache of anticipation.”
“Oh, I’m feeling that ache, believe me. Just lay back, I’ll have you aching too, in no time.”
“That’s just it. There’s no end to the aching, Beth, don’t you get it?”
“Let me try to ease that for you.”
“Listen to me, it’s not that I wish to fight you on this.”
“You’ll fight it as long as I did when you had me prone over your knee, touching me just enough to, well, you know, and then you walked out. So I get the aching part. I’m not going anywhere, Calum, and I’m telling you right now, these pants are coming off.” A bubble of laughter escaped her.
“You’ve no idea how long a memory I have,” he warned. “And I’m bigger than you. You can’t hold my balls forever, and when you let go, I’ll teach you what it’s like to really ache, Beth, because that episode over my knee, that was child’s play. I will go so slow and take so long with you, you’ll be begging for climax, and you won’t have it, not until you’ve paid tenfold.”
“You’re really scaring me, Calum, but you’ll have to wait your turn.” She tried not to laugh again. Her bottom lip trembled. “And, Mister I’ve-Got-A-Supersized-Memory, did you forget that you’ve had your way with me more than once. I can tell you’re not the submissive type, but I do have the upper hand on your balls right now, and I’m not letting go until you release my wrist and lie back on that pillow.”
“It’s not going to work, and we’ll both be disappointed.” He dropped her wrist.
She popped another button. “Get over it. Lie down.”
She could tell it was killing him and felt just a little guilty for wanting to laugh so badly.
“If I had any doubts over your innocence, they’d be set to rest now. This is no way to make love. When you give a man your virginity, you give him a gift, and you’ve no chance to reclaim that first time, lass. ‘Tis a gift of trust and my duty is to give you memories to cherish.”
“That’s lovely, Calum. Don’t worry about me. Let me do this my way.” She popped another button, then leaned over and kissed his lips. “I don’t care what happens. If you work or you don’t. I’ve been saving myself for you, whether it’s this moment or another. My wanting to touch you is no less than what you feel.”
She reached into his pants and touched skin. That did it. He expelled a sigh, punched the pillow under his head and lay back, grumbling something she didn’t quite catch, fortunately.
Beth ran her fingers lightly over what was still stuck in his pants then tucked her hands into his waistband. “Lift your butt.” He didn’t argue, and the pants came off. He lay perfectly still for her, naked and glorious. She sucked in her breath, and ran her hand up his powerful thigh.
“You are magnificent, you know.”
His smile was still wry.
“Thank you, Calum. I know it wasn’t easy for you.” Her smile was misch
ief.
“You’ve got me at your mercy, lass.”
“I know. I’m relishing it.” She ran her fingers through the curly, light brown hairs at his groin, wondering how to fulfill those promises she had made.
Fascinated by the feel of satin skin, she touched his shaft tentatively for a few minutes, applying pressure gently as he’d done to her, rolling his smooth head between her palms until she felt tremors begin to shake him. She obviously had a natural talent for this. He rose up on an elbow and caught her eye.
“You sick man.” His tremors had been of a different sort. “You’re laughing?”
“Sorry, lass. You’re very sweet, but how many men have you stripped naked?”
“One.” She didn’t add she had been six years old at the time. How had she reached this age without feeling the desire that now pulsed through her veins, desire that turned her nipples to hardened peaks, desire that plumped the folds between her thighs, desire that craved long, hard strokes deep inside? “Why? Do I not make you sizzle?”
“Come here.” He sat up and with a finger under her chin, brought her lips to his and kissed her gently. “You warm my blood to a sizzling point when I’m watching you from afar, so imagine how hot your touch makes me.” His smile was a flame to her blood as he clamped down on her forearm. “I believe I made you a promise.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her upstairs to bed.
So perhaps she lacked a little finesse, but at least she had the man naked. He laid her down on the bed and began to make good his promise. She learned fast that he had every intention of drawing this out. For a long while, he did nothing but kiss her, surely a prelude to heaven, a slow tantalising push and pull. Her arousal grew like a force of nature, sending her hips gyrating against the bed. Swollen with need, her breasts pushed against her shirt aching for that flick of his tongue.
With painstaking precision, he removed her blouse once again, one unhurried button at a time, touching her skin with the backs of his fingers, ascending her breasts in a slow climb performed with every aspect of his mouth, bringing his lips so close to her aching nipples, then nibbling her too lightly. He wouldn’t let her reach the summit he had brought her to before. The tease made her vibrating body burn inside.
“Calum,” she begged, breathless over wanting him. “You’ve made your tenfold point. No need to torture me any more.”
He flashed her a smile of devilish satisfaction. “Lie still now, love, ‘cause I’m just getting started on you.”
“You are evil.” Deliciously evil.
“I gave you fair warning. Now, it’s time to slip these pants off and get to the sweet torture.” His fingers dipped in under her waistband while his tongue dipped into her navel. An erotic jolt electrified her loins.
How had he managed to turn the table on her once again? She had never felt so far out of her league, on the edge of the unknown, vulnerable, both craving and anxious over what he was about to do. There would be no denying him. She would have to be brave.
Her breasts were alive from his relentless attention. It was an exquisitely excruciating feeling. She imagined her entire body heightened to that extent and pressed her fingers into his arm in sensual frustration. It only served to please him — the beast.
It took him forever to get her pants off. With the tips of his fingers, he touched her so delicately over every fold under her panties, leaving them in place, leaving her chest panting, leaving her hips grinding. He moved to her feet and lavished his way up to the backs of her knees, caressing and tasting, along the inside of her thighs, not an inch of skin escaped his attention. When he finally pulled off that last piece of clothing and nudged her legs apart, he pulled back to look at her. “Ah, Bethia, you are as stunningly beautiful as always.”
As he drank in the sight, her exposure only served to heighten her arousal. When he leaned in close, she felt his warm breath over her aching nub. When he flicked his tongue over her, she couldn’t restrain the mewls that escaped her as the tempo inside her swirled to its limit. Yet every time she was so close, he backed off and nibbled at a new place. He even had the nerve to moan himself as if he was the one on the excruciating edge. The man was clearly enjoying himself.
“You are beyond evil. What do you want? The sun? The moon? And how do you read me like that? Calum, seriously I get it now, the aching part, you win. Please … just please.”
“Ah, love. I didn’t mean to tease you like that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Perhaps I did,” he conceded, “but not to make you suffer.” He kissed the inside of her thigh. “You’re breathing fairly hard.” Another long, wet, exploratory kiss. “Was there anywhere on your glorious body my lips felt good?”
“You have to ask? I thought you knew what you were doing?”
He knew. It was written all over his smug face. Then his expression changed, and she saw the game was over. When his lips came down on her again, sucking, nibbling, laving, she lasted mere moments before he adeptly brought her to her second earth–shattering end that night.
Gathering her resplendently limp body in his arms, he whispered in her ear, “So, m’eudail, are you ready?”
She felt drained down to her toes which exasperated her problem, stealing the energy needed to drive her brain. How was she supposed to restore Calum? Nothing had worked. Her feeble attempts had left him unchanged.
Perhaps tomorrow would serve them better. “Ready for what? Aren’t you tired?”
“Tired of playing games, yes.”
“And that means …”
“I’m wanting to make love to you, Beth, as best I can.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”
He snorted. “Ah, no. It’s not been about love between us, not yet. It’s been about conquering and teasing. It’s been fun, lass, but that’s all.” He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. The gentle gesture moved her.
He was right. Finn had said it — sex won’t work. Their sexual play hadn’t been about love, not on her part at least. No doubt, she’d been excited, but more than once she’d had to grit her teeth — first and foremost to stop laughing — not that she thought his problem humorous. The absurdity had been the circumstance — she’d not foreseen having to threaten the master of seduction out of his pants.
Beth looked down the slope of his body. With his naked magnificence established and duly noted, would she be in this bed if Calum had chosen a different body? If he’d come to her less gorgeous? She studied his face. When had she decided he was gorgeous? He’d been merely attractive at first glance. Perhaps it had been his endless pursuit of her that had endeared him, or that he treasured her enough to change worlds, or that he accepted her exactly the way she was, or that he knew the difference between sex and making love. Perhaps it was because she could keep adding to the list of what rendered him gorgeous.
You’re not ready to see me, Beth. She saw him now. Yes, she would be in this bed no matter what body he wore.
The moment felt tender all of a sudden, her need to heal him, body and soul, to have him feel what welled up inside her, no words. If you allowed your passion to grow with his, if you freed your soul to feel for Calum. What she felt for him, she felt passionately, and what struck her was the purity of the feeling. Her passion for Calum was not tainted by her childhood perspective and for the first time she had no wish to quell it.
Touching him this time wasn’t about sensation. She ran her fingers along his cheekbone with an overwhelming affection from her soul to his. Every touch, every kiss connected them until her head hummed with the soul–craving chorus of their love. Hours could have passed, she lost track, feeling only the stillness of this time.
They paused when a honeysuckle breeze wafted in, caressed up the fine hairs on their bodies and gave Beth a tremble that took her breath away.
“Holy God,” Cal
um breathed heavily. “I feel something.” He looked down, confirming with his hand. Her warrior looked ready to weep his heartfelt gratitude. The look on his face was bliss. “Give me your hand, Beth.”
She wrapped her hand around his erection — satiny hard. Her insides dipped in a frenzy of anticipation.
“I can’t wait, lass, not another moment. It has to be now.”
And while she thought his urgency might render him less tender, it wasn’t the case. He took a deep breath that seemed to slow him down and then took time to ready her. Slow kisses to her lips in between whispers of his love brought them together as he pushed gently inside her. He waited while the pressure eased, and their eyes locked in passionate discourse, and the feeling inside Beth unfurled and blossomed. Every slow movement intensified until she wanted to feel him deeper inside and she lifted her hips to draw him in.
His groan thrilled her to know she could pull those pleasure sounds from him. He grasped her hips and showed her how to move with him, so their rhythm became a dance that flowed on a wave of rapture.
His eyes watched her as the understanding dawned that she would never feel so profoundly connected to another man, only this man who’d crossed worlds to reach her. A slight flicker of unease struck her at this realization before she was captured by the ecstatic spasms that enveloped the man inside her, and she became hopelessly lost in the glory of coming together as one.
Chapter 22
Who Needs the Real World?
Calum woke as the sun approached its zenith. He drew a fresh breath from the rich forest around him, clean and satisfying. It had been a beautiful dawn. In the early morning, he’d wrapped Beth in the duvet and carried her outside where they laid together in a hammock and watched the first light of day brush colour into the mountain. The poor lass hadn’t the energy to walk, he recalled affectionately — he’d brought her to her knees more than once. She still slept tucked in close to him, her cheek on his chest, her hand covered in his hand and drawn up under her chin.
Love of Her Lives Page 16