Page 94 of Of Heather and Thistle
“Flynn,” She whispered, as he lifted his head, his blue eyes dark with something unreadable.He didn’t rush. He just looked at her, like he was letting himself take in every inch of her, every sound she made, every way she responded to him.
“Yes?’ he murmured, his voice low, rough with restraint.
She swallowed, her fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer. “Just kiss me already.”
Something in him snapped—patience burned off like mist in the sun.
His mouth claimed hers, and suddenly there was no space left to breathe, only heat, only hands, only the way she came undone beneath him.
And this time? She didn’t hold back.
She met him with everything she had—want, wonder,yes.
He cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over the stiff peaks, drawing a gasp from Heather’s lips. Leaning down, he took one into his mouth, suckling and teasing until she was writhing against him.
“Yes,” Heather hissed, fisting her hands in his hair to hold him closer. “More…”
Flynn obliged eagerly, lavishing attention on each sensitive peak until Heather was nearly mindless with pleasure. His hands continued their exploration, trailing down her sides to grip her hips, pressing her more firmly against his straining erection.
Her hands slipped between them, urgency sparking in every movement as she fumbled with his buttons.
She had to feel him—warm, solid, real beneath her palms.
When she finally peeled the shirt from his shoulders, it hit the floor with a soft thud, forgotten.
“Well, damn,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the firm ridges of his abdomen. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
Flynn captured her lips again, swallowing her moan as shecaressed him. In one swift movement, he lifted her, laid her on the bed before them, and sat up to take her in—his eyes roving over every bare inch of her, exhaling appreciatively.
“Christ, ye’re so beautiful,” His hands and mouth explored her with aching patience, unraveling her piece by piece until she was lost to him completely. “What am I to do with you?”
Flynn looked up at her mischievously, sliding his index finger down the center of her arousal. “Ye’re so ready for me,” he growled against her. “You want this as badly as I do.”
“Yes,” Heather panted, bucking into his touch. “I need you, Flynn. Now.”
He complied immediately, pulling back just long enough to shed his pants and boxers, allowing himself to spring free before covering her body with his own once more. The feel of his hot skin against her made Heather shudder with pleasure. She could feel every chiseled muscle pressed against her soft curves.
With a deep groan, he gave her exactly what she needed. Heather cried out at the sudden intrusion, inner muscles clenching around him greedily. He began to move within her, deep and unhurried, each thrust sending sparks along her spine, “Yes,” Heather moaned, nails scoring down his back. “Flynn, please.”
The hard press of Flynn’s desire lingered at her entrance as his voice dropped to a rough whisper. “You’re mine, Heather. Say it.”
“I’m yours, only yours.” Heather agreed quickly.
“Good girl.” Flynn exhaled, rewarding her with a deep, claiming kiss as he thrust into her. They both gasped at the delicious sensation, pausing to savor the feeling of being so perfectly joined. Then Flynn began to move, setting a slow,sensual rhythm that had them both seeing stars.
They moved together with a perfect rhythm, each touch a silent confession of need. Heather met Flynn’s every thrust with an upward roll of her hips, pulling him deeper, harder. She grazed his back with soothing strokes as she urged him on, lost to everything but the feel of him moving inside her.
Flynn could feel his release building, winding tighter with every stroke of their joined bodies. He slipped a hand between them, caressing her apex in slow, deliberate circles, determined to bring her with him. “Let go for me, mo chridhe. Let me feel ye come undone.”
His words, spoken in that deep, honeyed tone, were all it took. Heather flew apart with a keening cry, inner muscles rippling around him like a vise as she came. The sound of her pleasure pushed Flynn over the edge, and he followed her into bliss, spilling himself deep inside her with a hoarse shout of her name.
He rolled off of her, breathless and sated, his body still humming with the lingering aftershocks of their shared ecstasy. As he lay beside her, his dark blue eyes—softened by firelight—held her in their gaze, drinking her in.
Flushed, she traced the line of his stubbled jaw with a fingertip, her own body still trembling from the intensity of their passion. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she studied him, her gaze lingering on the faint blush that stained his skin.
Flynn reached out, cupping her face gently, his touch as tender as a feather.
“You,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion, “you are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
