Page 36 of Bound to a Highland Beast
With a soft sigh, Tiernan parted his lips, his tongue flicking out to brush against the seam of Isabeau’s. She parted her own, too, letting him deepen the kiss even more and lick into her mouth, her hands tracing the contours of his muscles on his chest and stomach, his shoulders, his biceps. Last time, she hadn’t had the chance to touch him like this, but now her touch was greedy, her fingers digging into his skin and feeling him everywhere she could reach, wanting to memorize every part of him.
She didn’t know how many other chances she would get. If this was her first and only time, then she wanted to make the most of it, to burn every part of him in her memory.
Grabbing her by the hips, Tiernan pulled Isabeau into his lap, making her settle there with her legs on each side of his hips. Like this, she could feel his hardening manhood against her, theheated length of it pressing against her thigh, and the thought excited her more than it frightened her. Even with this, she knew Tiernan would never hurt her. His touch was gentle, tender, and delicate. There was nothing forceful about him, nothing that made her fear her first time would be as painful as some women claimed.
“Dae ye have any idea how bonnie ye are?” Tiernan whispered into her ear before he pressed a kiss right below it, to her neck. “Yer eyes, yer lips, yer breasts… even yer cleft. All I can think about is tastin’ ye again.”
Isabeau couldn’t help but groan, burying her face in his dark hair. As he spoke, Tiernan reached between them, between her legs, and traced a finger over her opening before bringing it to his lips to do just as he had told her, sucking the digit in his mouth. At the sight, Isabeau’s cheeks turned a bright red, equal amounts of need and embarrassment coursing through her.
How could he dae such a thing! It’s absolutely indecent!
And yet, she couldn’t deny that it aroused her beyond any measure, knowing that Tiernan craved her this much. Just the thought was enough to draw more moisture from her core, slicking her heated skin.
With eager hands, Tiernan pulled at her clothes and Isabeau helped him as much as she could, their hands tangling as they struggled with her tunic. Soon, though, she was once again naked before him and this time, she was not ashamed of it. Even when Tiernan looked at her with that insistent, hungry look, shedidn’t try to shy away from him. It was clear to her now that he liked what he saw and it aroused her even more, having him watch her like this.
“Let me pleasure ye,” he said, one arm wrapping around her waist to pull her close to him. When Isabeau nodded, Tiernan reached between them once more and traced his fingers over her folds, drawing a gasp out of her. The touch was barely anything, so soft that it was only teasing her, driving her mad with lust. Even as she whined, though, and rocked her hips, trying to get Tiernan to touch her properly, he only chuckled and pressed a kiss to her neck, nuzzling the curve of it.
“Patience,” he told her, his touch getting only a little more insistent, but not enough to provide any real relief. Desire coiled deep within Isabeau, her body getting more and more heated as Tiernan toyed with her. And then, just as she was about to complain once more, Tiernan shifted his other hand so that it snaked under her from behind, finding her entrance.
Isabeau cried out as Tiernan pushed just the tip of his finger inside her, rubbing against her walls. His other hand teased that sensitive spot at the top of her mound, thumb rubbing small circles over it until she convulsed with pleasure. She was entirely in his mercy, her body nothing more than an instrument for him to play as he pleased, forcing wave after wave of pleasure upon her.
“More,” Isabeau gasped, unable to help it. “Please, Tiernan, I want tae feel ye.”
With a groan, Tiernan did as he was told, his finger plunging deep inside Isabeau with ease. She was so relaxed, so slick with need that there was no resistance as he pushed into her again and again, the pad of his finger brushing repeatedly against her sensitive walls. Moving his other hand to her rear, Tiernan grabbed the ample flesh there and lifted Isabeau up a little, until he could suck one of her nipples in his mouth, moaning around the hardened peak. When he added a second finger inside her, Isabeau couldn’t help but echo his moan and move her hips, taking him all the way to the knuckle, and Tiernan encouraged her with the hand on her buttock, helping her set up a slow, sensual rhythm as she took over and pleasured herself with his hand.
“That’s it,” he told her. “Take all ye want from me. Does it feel good?”
Isabeau could only shut her eyes firmly and nod, lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to stop herself from crying out again, fearful that the entire inn would hear her. Tiernan, though, wouldn’t take that for an answer.
“Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me how it feels.”
“It feels good,” Isabeau said, the words coming out rough and choked. “It feels so good. I can feel ye so deep inside me.”
Holding her hip still, Tiernan picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers with renewed vigor. Isabeau couldn’t stop her cry this time, the sound echoing off the walls around them as he forced her pleasure out of her, making her fall apart in his arms withinseconds. It only took a few more thrusts of his fingers before Isabeau reached her peak, her core pulsing around him, her wetness drenching his hand as she held on to him for dear life.
It felt as though her pleasure would never fade, the soft, rhythmic twitch of her walls continuing for several moments. Tiernan held her through it, lazily moving his fingers to draw every last bit of her pleasure out, until she finally sagged in his arms, all the strength gone from her body.
For a while, she stayed like that, panting against Tiernan’s shoulder and trying to regain her composure. When she finally did, she realized she was not done.
Pulling back just enough to look at him, Isabeau bit her lip, her gaze falling to Tiernan’s lap. “Make me yers,” she said. “I need it.”
Tiernan gave her a ravenous look, one hand threading through her hair as he observed her carefully. “Are ye certain?”
“I am,” she assured him. “I want it.”
“But—”
Isabeau didn’t let him finish his sentence. She didn’t want to hear why this was a bad idea; she knew it well enough on her own, without anyone else telling her. There were so many reasons why she shouldn’t be asking for this. If there was one thing everyone had made sure to tell her when she had come ofage, it was that she had to save herself for her husband, that it was unbecoming of a lady of her station to seek the pleasures of the flesh. She had other things with which to occupy her time—embroidery, poetry, archery. All noble things that were supposed to keep her mind off boys and, later, men. Things that would keep her days filled until it was time for her to wed and have children. Then there were the lessons, the ways of diplomacy, everything she needed to know to become the Lady of the Clan once she was wedded, which took up so much of her time.
She had followed those rules religiously. She had studied under her tutors with such vigor that she had even surpassed her brothers in many subjects, burying her face in books while they were out on the training grounds, keeping each other busy with their swords and their fists and their strategies. She had been nothing short of the perfect young lady, the one any parent would want to have.
And she was tired of it.
Her family had kept her so sheltered in that castle that there were so many things she didn’t know, even at twenty-five years of age. She had been raised to know how to deal with nobles, how to entertain them, but at the same time, even if she could wield such power, she felt like she knew nothing that mattered. What was the point of all those lessons if she couldn’t even survive in the real world, outside the castle walls? What was the point of her life if she couldn’t have a single pleasure in it?
This was what she wanted and she could have it now; Tiernan wanted it as much as she did, and Isabeau wasn’t going to let that opportunity go. Her body ached for him, savoring every touch, every brush of his lips, every sigh of her name from his mouth. She didn’t care if it was a sin. She didn’t care if she was going to ruin herself for anyone else.
Peasant women didn’t have such taboos; why should she?
