Page 80 of His Highland Duchess
“So ye keep saying.”
“Forgive me for what I am about to do,” he said. “Even if it is all your fault.”
Her heart was racing. Her mouth was salivating. Never had she wanted someone more than she did her husband right in this moment. He stayed back, breathing heavily, his eyes searching her as if deciding where he would start.
“You best hurry,” she purred. “If what you say is true, I would nae want ye to change ye mind.”
“Impossible.”
“Prove it.”
That’s exactly what he did.
He took her by the face and pulled it into his own. Their lips met, clashing brilliantly, opening so that their tongues could lick and lap and tangle together. Her own hands grabbed Lysander by the waist, squeezing and holding on for dear life because that kiss alone had her entire body reacting in ways she knew to expect but was still growing used to.
Her legs were already trembling. Her thighs quivering. And as a warmth spread up her entire body so that she could hardly breathe, Margaret felt herself grow moist between her thighs so that she was already sure to be dripping on the floor.Oh… Lysander…
Their kiss continued with passion. Lysander, taking control, spun Margaret around and then drove her back so that she was against the door. Next, one hand went under her chin, pushing her face back so that he could kiss and suck at her neck. His other hand was around her waist, squeezing it before moving up and cupping her breasts. Margaret closed her eyes and let her body melt into the wall as she felt his lips on her neck and his hands around her face and body. Her right leg lifted then, wrapping around Lysander, pulling him into her, which made him growl with delight.
“Careful…” He growled again as he started down her neck, his hands grabbing at the front of the dress as if looking for an opening.
“I think we’re well past the point of careful,” she purred as she ran a hand through his hair.
Lysander, struggling with the dress, soon became undone. He let go a roar and grabbed Margaret by the hips, spinning her about and pushing her face and body into the doorway. She gasped and tried to look back, but he stepped into her, his body against hers, his hands wrapping her front as he buried his lips again into her neck from behind.
“Do you trust me?” he asked her as he sucked her earlobe.
“Urgh…” she moaned as his tongue licked her ear.
“Do you trust me?” he asked again.
“I do, Lysander. I trust ye.”
She could feel his breathing as his hands ravaged her. And she could feel his manhood through his breeches against her buttocks. It had her heart racing with excitement and curiosity and hunger. Without knowing what she was doing exactly, she reached a hand around and found his bulge, grabbing hold of it and squeezing.
“Urgh…” Lysander’s body turned stiff. “Margaret, you are trouble.”
“Ye have nae idea,” she teased as she squeezed him again.
Lysander acted quickly next. His hands had been groping her breasts, wrapping themselves around her neck, and pulling at her hair. But he seemed frustrated, and it had everything to do with her dress. She still had her back to him, but she felt him pull away as his hands began to fumble with the lacework at the back. And she sucked in, shuffling her legs inward and then wiggled her hips as he undid the dress and dropped it to the floor.
“Better?” she giggled, shivering to feel the air on her bare skin.
“Not quite…” Lysander next grabbed the skirt of her shift and began to lift it up her body. His fingers traced her thighs lightly, squeezed her bare buttocks roughly, stroked the small of her back so that gooseflesh erupted across her entire body. She lifted her arms as the shift reached her upper body, freeing herself entirely, her breathing catching to hear the shift drop to the floor by her feet. “Much better,” Lysander said.
She had never been so exposed in front of him. For a brief moment, embarrassment took Margaret, and she moved to cover her breasts.
“I do not think so.” Lysander snatched her hands and pulled them back down. He was still standing behind her, and he stepped into her again, his chin resting on her shoulder and his hands now moving up her body and cupping her breasts fully.
He attacked her neck with his lips as his hands squeezed her breasts. His fingers pinched her nipples. His crotch pressed into her back. He had her against the wall, and all she could do wasclose her eyes, lean her head back, and give herself over to the pleasure that rippled up her body.
His hands slipped down her waist and toward her thighs. He spread her legs, those same fingers stroking her inner thighs. He ran a finger over the outside of her lips as if to test how wet she was…
“Urgh…” She moaned and very nearly collapsed. “Lysander…”
“Tell me that you’re mine,” Lysander whispered into her ear. “Tell me that I can have you.”
“Mmmm…” she moaned, feeling his fingers dance across the outside of her lips. “And if I say otherwise?”
