Page 58 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
They shared a laugh as they reached her chamber door, and she turned to him. Struan wanted to take her in his arms. Wanted to hold her and convince her to remain by his side. But in the end, he stood before her and offered her the only thing he could… a wan smile.
“The warm milk daesnae seem tae be daein’ the trick this time,” she said. “I still dinnae feel tired and probably willnae be able tae sleep.”
“Aye. Yer tonic has nae made me feel sleepy either.”
“Well… why dinnae ye come in and sit with me fer a while?”
“Aye. I’d love tae,” he said.
Isolde opened the door and walked inside, letting him follow her in. Struan closed the door behind him and watched as Isolde walked over to the window. She turned her face to him and smiled.
She is so beautiful!
He gazed into her eyes for a long moment, feeling an energy crackle and pulse between them. His heart stuttered drunkenly in his chest and a surge of desire welled up within him. Before he knew what he was going, Struan stepped closer to her, pinning Isolde between his body and the stone wall behind her.
Her full, soft lips parted, and a sharp breath escaped her mouth. Her eyes sparkled, filled with the same need that was coursing through him and when Struan leaned down and kissed her, she did not resist. Instead, she melted against him.
Isolde’s soft tongue darted into his mouth and rolled languidly around his. Her breath was warm and sweet. Struan groaned low as she pressed herself against him. He reveled in the feel of her soft, full breasts and generous feminine curves beneath his hands. As he let his fingers roam and explore her body, Isolde’s breathy moans rang in his ears, igniting the fires of desire within him.
She pulled back for a moment and looked at him, her breath shallow and quick, and her eyes shining with her passion.
“Are ye all right?” he asked.
She nodded and touched her lips with her fingertips as her cheeks turned bright red. A slow, mischievous smile curled the corners of her mouth, and she leaned in again, kissing him hard and with a zeal that took his breath away. Still pinched between him and the hard stone wall behind him, Isolde writhed, grinding herself against him. The feel of her body, its soft curves and taut planes, stoked the inferno of passion burning brightly within him.
Struan’s insides churned and he felt himself thickening and lengthening. She gasped and looked down, feeling his rigid staff pressed against her belly. Isolde surprised him when she slid a trembling hand down his body and tentatively rubbed him through his breeches. The touch of her hand sent lightning bolts of sensation through Struan that made every hair on his body stand on end. It seemed more curious exploration than passionate embrace, but her touch, light and delicate made him tingle from head to toe and stared into her eyes, needing her more than he’d ever needed anything in his entire life.
She yelped when he scooped her up and carried her over to the bed. He sat her down on the edge of it then knelt down before her. Struan turned his face up to her, their eyes locking and filling the air around them with a white-hot intensity and a sense of anticipation he’d never felt before. He licked his suddenly dry lips.
“Dae ye trust me?” he whispered.
She nodded. “Aye.”
“Tell me if ye want me tae stop.”
“Aye. I will.”
“Are ye sure?”
“I am.”
Struan gently laid her down on the bed then braced himself over her on his arms and stared into her eyes for a moment. He leaned down and kissed her. Their tongues rolled around one another sensually and he felt her body moving beneath him as she filled his mouth with small, breathy moans that drove him crazy.
He slid down, letting his fingertips trail down her body then pushed the hem of her nightgown up. As his fingers slipped along the soft, pale flesh of her thighs, she shuddered. And when he parted her legs, Isolde gasped. She raised her head and stared down at him, her eyes glittering with a hint of worry, but a powerful wave of desire. Struan was waiting for her to say something. To stop him. But Isolde licked her lips and said nothing. She just watched him.
Struan breathed in deeply, savoring Isolde’s musky scent. He ran the tip of his tongue along her inner thighs and felt her quiver.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about this fer a long time now,” he said.
“Aye. So have I.”
A sultry grin on his lips, he leaned forward and brushed the tip of his tongue across her wet, trembling seam. Isolde gasped, her body jerking in response, every muscle tightening with sharp anticipation. When his tongue parted her folds and dipped deep into her core, she let out a strangled cry, hips arching off the bed. He moved with slow, deliberate strokes, licking and tasting her as if she were the only thing he craved. Isolde writhed beneath him, breathless and overwhelmed, her hands tangling in his hair. She gave a sudden, desperate tug, drawing a grunt from his throat, but it only seemed to drive him deeper, more relentless.
“Ye taste so good,” he murmured, stroking the insides of her thighs gently.
She was sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted, and he didn’t seem able to get enough. He felt her arousal running down his chin and coating his lips, and he kept lapping at her sex, indulging in the taste of her. Struan flicked the stiff tip of his tongue across her bud and Isolde let out a sharp moan that echoed around the stone walls of the chamber. Her grip on his hair tightened and she pulled his face down to her again, grinding her wetness against his mouth.
“Bleedin’ hell,” Struan gasped, feeling himself growing stiffer.
