Page 68 of Waiting for a Scot Like You
He stalked to the bed to wrap his hand around the back of her neck. “The more impertinent you are, the longer you’re going to have to wait until I let you come. Now strip. Everything. And be quick about it.”
When he released her, she drew in a shuddering breath and slid off the bed. Briefly she debated as to how fast she ought to undress—it might be amusing to keep teasing him—but she wanted to be naked with him more. He watched through slitted eyes as she removed her garments layer by layer. She had the presence of mind to set everything on a nearby chair, and her hands trembled as she disrobed.
Light from the moon gathered brightly in the chamber, and her body was fully exposed to him as she took off her gown, her stays, her shift. He’d seen her nude before, but she felt a quick stab of self-consciousness. She did not have a girl’s lithe body. Childbearing and life had shaped her into the woman she was now.
As if aware of her sudden unease, he stalked to her. He didn’t pause as his hands clasped her waist and he bent to kiss her ravenously.
“Lie down on the bed,” he commanded when they paused to gulp air.
Her legs shook beneath her as she clambered onto the bed and stretched out. He leaned over her to maneuver her limbs, firmly but gently pulling her arms and legs out so she was spread-eagled.
“Don’t you want to undress, too?” she gasped.
A grunt was his only reply.
It struck her then, the disparity between them. Her, entirely bare, spread out for him, whilst he was fully clothed. Her on display, him garbed and fortified. The discrepancy made her shiver with arousal.
She shook even more when he used her stockings to secure her wrists and ankles to the bedposts. It was loose enough that she wasn’t uncomfortable, yet she was powerfully aware of how she couldn’t cover her breasts. Her quim was utterly exposed, and she’d no doubt he could see how wet and full it was. Never before in her life had she been revealed like this. Never had she had anyone look at her the way Duncan did now.
She had no fear of what he’d do to her next, yet the quiet ache in her heartdidfrighten her. Because at that moment, he was all that mattered to her.
Chapter 16
“What...” She licked her lips. “What do you plan on doing to me?”
His face was tight with need, his expression verging on ferocious. “Everything.”
She closed her eyes, letting this one word and all its potential soak into her. The bed dipped with his weight, and his mouth found hers. It was a kiss of hunger and desperate need. She could not hold on to him, not with her hands bound, but she arched up to meet his demand with hers.
He stroked his hand down her neck, across her collarbones, and then he cupped her breast. His fingers teased her nipple into a taut point. She gasped as he gave it a gentle pinch, then gasped again when his other hand performed the same service to her other breast.
“A little pain, aye?” he growled into her mouth. “Just enough to make you wet.”
She had not thought that a touch of pain couldheighten pleasure. Yet it did. It brought her senses fully alive, sharpening her and making her ache with the need for more. She’d no doubt that if she could touch her quim, she’d find it dripping with arousal.
He played with her like this for long, excruciating, delicious minutes, kissing her and giving her nipples firm squeezes between his fingertips. The throb between her legs grew and grew, her clitoris hot with the need to be touched. But she couldn’t rub her legs together to assuage her need.
“Please,” she moaned. “Touch me. Duncan. Please.”
“Don’t know if I should.” He dragged his jaw along hers and then went lower, abrading her with his whiskers, and she luxuriated in the sensation. “Ye’ve been verra bad, Beatrice. Do ye deserve it?”
“Duncan,” she wailed. “I’ll lose my mind if you don’t touch my pussy.”
“Canna have that.” His accent had deepened as his voice dropped even lower in register. “Poor wee lass and her hungry cunt.”
When he stroked his fingers lightly over her outer folds, she hissed. It was like throwing a thimble of water on a fire. She needed more and shifted restlessly in her bindings to bring her into greater contact with his skin.
His fingers slipped down to orbit her clitoris, and she moaned louder.
“Is that enough for ye?” His words vibrated against her as he bit the top of her shoulder.
“More,” she managed to gasp.
His thumb stroked her bud, his fingers circling her entrance. “Greedy lass. This is what greedy lasses get.”
She cried out when he softly slapped her clitoris. Sensation exploded through her, hot tendrils of pleasure that burst across her body.
“Aye, ye like that,” he rumbled. “Can ye take it?”
