Page 44 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
“I… I dinnae ken what to do,” she murmured, barely louder than the crackling fire. “I dinnae ken how to… I dinnae ken how this works.”
His hand came up to cradle her jaw, thumb grazing her cheek, steadying her.
“Hush,” he said, calm but firm. “I’ve got you.” Then, softer—more dangerous—he added, “And stop biting that lip unless you want to be flat on your back in the next moment.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came.
He moved closer, brushing his mouth near hers, not quite kissing her.
“Let me offer what you sought,” he said, his words a promise.
He kissed her again, this time a gentle, tender kiss that melted away her fears. She closed her eyes as he scooped her up effortlessly into his broad arms, and carried her to the bed, laying her down in a fluid motion.
She went to remove her clothing, but he reached up his hands to set hers above her head.
“Do not move,” he ordered her.
He brushed his lips over hers and as they kissed, her body continued to respond to his touch, her muscles tensing and relaxing in a rhythmic pattern that eased her weary heart in a way she could not describe.
As he deepened their kiss, the warmth continued to spread through her body. She felt his arms around her, holding her close as he trailed his lips down her body and moved downward.
“You are a vision, wife,” he whispered to her as he gathered her dress in his hands.
He pushed her skirts higher, exposing her completely.
She took a deep breath as she tightened her legs, and he used his hands to smooth them down in a relaxing motion.
“What are ye doin?” she asked as he trailed his fingers up and down the insides of her legs, in a teasing motion as he reached the folds between her legs.
“Spread those pretty thighs for me. There’s something I’ve been starving for since the moment I saw you.”
The moment the words left his mouth, her entire body turned into honey, soft and runny, and her legs parted for him.
“That’s a good girl. Now, say my name,” he growled low against her ear. “It belongs on your lips—especially when you’re spread out like this, trembling for me.”
“Richard!” She obeyed, her body unable to refuse him.
With a wicked smile, he slipped a finger inside her, moving with a careful rhythm—firm enough to ignite, gentle enough to soothe. He watched her, attuned to every shiver, every breathless gasp, adjusting to her body’s unspoken needs. When he added a second finger, his movements deepened with practiced ease.
Lowering his mouth, he pressed warm kisses along the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate, each one drawing closer to where she ached for him most.
“Please,” she begged, pulling her knees together involuntarily.
“My eager little wife… You will get all the pleasure you deserve,” he said, his voice deepening as his body grew ever closer to her.
He began kissing her between her legs, his tongue lapping at her delicate folds with an intimacy that made her shiver. Each stroke, each teasing flick, built a pressure inside her that was both thrilling and unbearable. His hands moved in rhythm with his mouth—strong, knowing, relentless in their devotion to her pleasure.
More than once, Catriona reached for him, unable to bear the overwhelming sensation, but he caught her wrists and gently but firmly pinned them above her head, his gaze flicking up, dark and smoldering.
And then it came—pleasure like nothing she had ever known, rippling from the very core of her and flooding every limb. She felt undone, unraveled, and reborn all at once.
A deep moan escaped her lips as her body arched into his touch, her release overtaking her in waves.
When he finally pulled away and rose, both of them breathless, she reached for him with a dazed smile.
“That…” she panted, “that was incredible.”
For a moment, she thought he might gather her close, kiss her again, finish what he’d started.
