Page 68 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
She whimpered as he caught her around the neck and slid his other hand down, catching her around the waist and pulling her against him. Nothing mattered—not the storm, not the hard ground, not the threats of the Vipers. Not when he had her lithe, soft form in his arms and her lips at his mercy.
Not when he’d almost lost her.
His grip tightened, and Helena squeaked, but he did not stop. Though he slowed, wondering if she would push him away.
Instead, Helena pressed closer, then her hands pressed against his bare chest, and he hissed into her mouth.
She jerked back. “Did I hurt you?”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Nae at all, lass.” He caught her wrist and pressed her hand against his chest, watching hers rise and fall rapidly. “Much the opposite.”
“Oh,” Helena said. Her fingers slid through his chest hair as he dragged her hand up, over, and then let go. “Your heart.”
“Aye,” Damien said. “Ye ken now?” He caught her other hand and placed it on his stomach. “Be as curious as ye like.”
Helena’s eyes darted up and down as she began to run her fingers over him. He tried to control his breathing, but he could feel his blood surging up, his length swelling, and his need for her reaching its breaking point. All the while, she ran her fingers over him like a map she wanted to memorize, her lips parted and her pupils dilated.
When she looked up again, he yanked her against him, capturing her mouth again. Now, her hands were on his shoulders, smoothing over his neck and down his back. His hands gripped her waist, and he rocked against her, eliciting a delicious gasp.
His lips trailed down to her neck, and then his hands were on the front of her dress, tearing it open as though it were paper. Her stays were next, and then her pretty, round breasts were pebbling in the cold.
For a moment, Damien drank her in—the cascade of her dark hair, her bare breasts, the pink hue on her cheekbones, the way she bit her lip. Her hands were tight on his shoulders, and the hazel of her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
A lazy grin spread across Damien’s face as his thumbs brushed her hard nipples, and she arched into him. He watched her come undone with each stroke, until she was writhing on his lap, moans escaping her lips.
And then he leaned forward to take a tender peak between his teeth, causing her to scream out in pleasure.
He laughed against her breast, then laved it with his tongue and murmured, “Ah,Sassenach, I almost lost ye. We’re only gettin’ started.”
CHAPTER 28
Perhaps the lightningfrom the storm had supercharged the air, for Helena’s entire body seemed to spark under Damien’s touch. Over and over, he teased, kissed, and sucked on her breast. Each brush of his tongue, his beard, or his fingers sent a cascade of pleasure through her entire body.
An ache grew between her legs, her breath coming in hard pants, and some part of her marveled that she’d become this creature. That she had this fire and passion inside her and that Damien had so easily coaxed it free. Or so it seemed.
When he switched breasts, a cry echoed around them, and Helena realized it was her. She was making sounds she’d never heard herself make before, and she groaned when Damien paused.
“Yer glasses, sweet.”
She gazed at him, her eyes heavy-lidded, and he took her glasses off, leaning over to tuck them into his sporran.
“Now, then,” Damien said and returned to worshipping her breasts with his fingers and his mouth.
She shivered and shuddered, holding on to him, even as she knew that she was losing control.
And she wanted to.
“Damien, I need?—”
The hand on her breast paused, and then her skirts rustled as Damien lifted them to her waist and exposed her chemise. His knuckles dragged over her underclothes, and she arched her back, crying out.
“Ye need this,” he said. “I ken.”
“I—oh.”
She called out his name as he tore at her underclothes, his blunt fingers stroking her. At the same time, he nipped her breast, and she shook all over, begging for more.
“Please, please, yes.”
