Page 61 of Sins of a Scot
Iseabail’s eyes widened at his words.
“I ken. I lied,” he continued. “I pretended it didnae matter tae me, but ye’re nay fool, Iseabail. Ye’re bound tae ken it did.”
Iseabail inclined her head knowingly. “I ken that it mattered tae me,” she admitted.
Owen turned toward her then, and cupping her cheek, he lowered his lips to hers. In response, Iseabail pushed herself to her knees, and as the blanket fell from her shoulders, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Her lips felt soft against his, but as his desire grew, Owen wanted so much more. Slipping his tongue inside her mouth, he roved about, wrapping his around her own, tasting her sweetness. Desperation rose between them, and panting, he could not seem to get enough of her. When she had compelled him, he had felt like he might die if he didn’t kiss her. This time, that feeling was simply evoked from his own desire.
Moving from her mouth, his lips trailed against her throat, Iseabail gasping and moaning in pleasure.
“Ye’re so beautiful, Iseabail,” he growled against her skin. “I want ye so badly.”
Pulling away from her, he tugged at his plaid, and after unwrapping it from his body, Iseabail curled her fingers around the bottom of his tunic and tugged it up, telling him what she desired. Helping her, he pulled it over his head, and heard a soft gasp leave her throat.
Gazing at his muscular form with parted lips, her fingers trailed across his solid frame, and then leaning forward, she laid gentle kisses on his chest.
Owen wrapped his arms around her, and with ease, for she barely weighed anything at all, he lifted her off her knees and softly laid her onto her back. Gently, he tugged at the towel that still remained wrapped around her body, and as her nakedness was revealed to him, his breath caught in is throat.
“Och, me God,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
His eyes travelled down her body, taking in the slenderness of her throat, the prominent collar bones, dressed in her soft skin, her soft round bosoms and her pert nipples. Taking her all in, his gaze continued over the flatness of her stomach, until he finally came upon the dark-haired apex of her thighs.
“Look at ye,” he murmured. “Ye are the most exquisite thing I have ever laid me eyes upon.”
Iseabail smiled bashfully, and though he could hardly tell, for the heat of the fire had reddened her face, he was certain she blushed at his words.
“I want ye, Iseabail. But nae without yer permission.”
Looking up at him with sparkling eyes full of affection and desire, she nodded. “I want ye too.”
He lay his hands on either side of her, supporting his weight, and then slowly, he lowered his head to one of her pert nipples. Catching it with his tongue, he heard her gasp. He gazed up at her, watching her eyes close as she lost herself, his tongue flicking her nipple over and over again.
He moved to the other breast, and repeated the same, all the while feeling his manhood growing between his legs. He did want her, and now, with her say so, he was going to take her. But first, he had to make her ready for him.
“I need tae ken, Iseabail,” he said, as he trailed kisses across her stomach. “Am I the first?”
He looked up at her again, and though she looked embarrassed, she nodded.
“Very well. Then I want tae ready ye fer me.”
He parted her legs and slipped his fingers down over her soft hair. Immediately, he felt her slickness, which made him growl with delight.
“Och, I can see that ye want me,mo ghrádh geal,” he growled, slipping his fingers inside of her. His thumb found the tiny nub he knew so well. While his fingers slid in and out of her wet tightness, his thumb caressed the nub that he knew would bring her so much pleasure.
“Oh, me God,” she gasped, her hips writhing in some crazed fashion, pushing herself against him.
Lost in the passion of the moment, Owen was delighted that she had remained innocent and untouched. Proud, in fact, that he was the first man to show her what pleasure her body contained within it.
He continued, stretching her a little more as his fingers slid deeper, back and forth, while his thumb rubbed against her, over and over.
“Och, God. Och, God,” she gasped, arching her back.
She was panting now, and he could already feel her tightening around him. He knew a woman’s body well, and in his expertise, plucked from her the pleasure she had never before experienced.
She was close now, for she was barely breathing, her body tensing, sitting on the peak of her explosion. A few seconds later, he felt her contract around his thick fingers, and from above him, Iseabail let out a delighted squeal.
“Och. Och. Ah.”
