Page 90 of The Scot Beds His Wife
Unable to resist, his mouth reluctantly left hers to rescue a few. He caught some with his lips, others with his tongue. Kissing and laving down her graceful neck to her collarbone, and then below.
Her breasts were high and tight, her nipples deliciouslysmall and taut. He’d not thought she had much of a shape beneath her workshirts, but there was certainly enough here to feast upon.
Perfect. They were perfect.
Shewas perfect.
With a growl, he claimed her breasts with his mouth, raining a storm of worship upon them that had the exact desired effect. Her legs parted wider beneath him, and she pressed into him, pulling his hard body closer.
Without leaving her unattended, he swept away his trousers and settled in the cradle of her thighs.
His breath hitched when she reached between them and pulled his sex away from where it throbbed against his stomach and positioned it against her.
“Shit,” she whispered.
He froze. “What?”
“Big,” was all she said.
“Aye.” He grinned.
His teeth ground together as he pushed slowly forward. He dropped his head to the side of hers, so he didn’t lose himself in her body like he did in her eyes. She was small, snug, and oh, so deliciously wet. She writhed beneath him, doing her best to accommodate.
“I don’t think…” she whispered. Then, “Oh!” as he curled his hips sharply, stinging into her, stretching her wide with one long powerful thrust.
An involuntary shudder overtook him, followed by waves and waves of impossible heat.
“Don’t. Move,” he ordered through his teeth.Christ. It was too much. She was too sweet. Too tight. Too soft.
The stars called his name too soon, and he answered them by throwing his head back and roaring his pleasure to the storm. He could feel them pulse behind the clouds, could nearly sense his place among them aspleasure pulled him from himself, tore him apart, and then reshaped him. Creating a creature of chaos where before there had been order, and Gavin knew as he crushed his wife to him, that he might never be who he once was.
***
Samantha bit down on her lip as she witnessed the splendid sight of her husband caught in the throes of bliss. His every muscle corded tight as his body went rigid above hers, his beautiful features locked in a grimace that looked like it might be pain, but she knew better. It was the exact pleasure he’d given her in the bath. The kind where you couldn’t be sure your body still belonged to you anymore.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the hard, hot, spasming flesh inside of her. On the warm jets of seed bathing her occupied womb.
This was what she needed.
Now she could relax somewhat.
Though she didn’t want to. For the first time in her life, she didn’t want this act to be over. She wasn’t ready for him to collapse upon her, then roll over to fall asleep.
She wanted more. More of this slippery, exquisite friction. More of his incomprehensively large sex, now that the fullness had finally stopped being uncomfortable. More of the magic his fingers had given her in the bath.
Oh well,she thought. If she pleased him this much, there would probably be a next time.
After an eternal moment, he dropped onto his elbows over her, his dark green eyes drowsy but still glittering with intensity as he pressed his forehead to hers. The gasps of his breath exploded against her cheek in hot bursts.
It was done. Now they were man and wife in every sense possible.
Now her child was safe.
She closed her eyes, and in doing so her awareness no longer resided behind her eyes… but inside her body.
Inside her body, wherehestill remained. Hard. And hot. And pulsing.
What?
