Page 44 of Captured By the Highland Devil
He caressed her, alternating feather-light caresses with sinuous circles upon her sensitive nub. Tentatively, he slid a finger inside her.
“God above, ye’re tight. The way ye're grippin’ me fingers...” Although his jaw was ruddy with pleasure, his brows drew together. “Are ye all right, lass? Am I hurtin’ ye?”
“Nay,” her breath was shuddery and tight.
She was so close he knew she wouldn’t last long. Sure enough, her thighs began to quiver. He drove two fingers into her tight passage and she took him in.
Scintillating pleasure blazed from her nipple to the apex of her thighs, molten pressure mounting at her core. Her thighs fell open as her breath quickened.
With one hand, he swept aside her hair, his lips skimming the graceful curve of her neck with licks, and nips, eliciting throaty moans.
His light caresses and tight circles upon her sensitive nub were her undoing. Paige knew she was so close ,she wouldn’t last long.
Desire built and built inside her belly like a dam building on the verge of breaking. Her legs moved restlessly, the place between them throbbing with desperate need to erupt.
Ruben gripped her hips, holding her down and she gasped when his fingers hit her exactly where she needed it. Her hips moved of their own accord, seeking more.
The friction opened her floodgates, and she moaned as bliss inundated her. Her cry of delight echoed though the room and when the spike faded, she fell back to the pillows, worn out like a wrung rag.
When she had the strength to lift her eyelids, she met his intent gaze. “That was—” her head rolled languidly. “—heavenly.”
Ruben leaned over her, “Yer face was the picture of pleasure too. I love how ye respond lass. It’s so…instinctive.”
Her brows met in two. “There are other ways?”
“Many,” Ruben kissed her cheek. “Some women are so jaded they fabricate their response to men, feignin’ pleasure when they feel none.”
She winced, “That’s deceitful.”
He chucked, “Aye, it is.”
“Is it normal to feel so… sleepy after?” Paige asked.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Ruben nodded, “Aye, it is. It’ll be even more pronounced when we do consummate the marriage.”
She turned to him. “What about ye? What about yer pleasure?”
He slid from the bed and covered her with the blanket again. “Seein’ ye was all the pleasure I need. Get some rest, lass. I will be in me meeting room if ye need me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Paige woke again, it was beyond midday and her stomach was tight with hunger. As she washed and headed down to the kitchens, Paige was hoping for a quiet, private meal.
Halfway there, she changed her mind.
It probably the best time to talk with Elijah. In the kitchens, she requested a basket, her eyes widening as they filled it with slivers of cold meat, cheeses, sweet baked morsels and spring ripe fruit.
“Thank ye,” she told the cook then headed out to the smithy.
A kind stableboy pointed her in the way, and she headed to the quaint, ashwood cottage with a slate roof at the other end of the property. The cow looked up from grazing with a low moo, then went back to its meal.
“Paige,” Elijah said, stepping out of the cottage while wiping his hands. “Or should I say,me lady.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ye were never one for formalities, cousin. There is nay need to start now.”
Chuckling, he gestured to her basket, “May I?”
Handing the basket over, she said. “Ye had such long hair. Why did ye cut it all off?”
