Page 81 of Romancing the Scot
“You’re starting a dangerous game, Miss Grace.”
He pushed her dress and undergarments down over her hips, where they pooled around her feet. She found herself standing before him, dressed only in stockings.
Her breasts felt heavy, begging for the feel of his mouth. Eagerness made the blood pound in her veins. A boldness took over and she reached for his trousers, fumbling with the buttons and pushing her hand inside. In the next instant, she heard his swift intake of breath as her fingers encircled him.
Desire filled her with new courage.
“Grace,” he groaned as if in pain when her hand stroked the length of him. The difference in the soft texture of the skin and the hardness and length of his manhood was enthralling. His pulsing heat warmed her hands. He was on fire.
He throbbed against her touch. She pushed her other hand into his open trousers and ran it over his buttocks. “I want to see you, to taste you, to get to know your body as you know mine.”
“This has to wait.” His need resonated in the rasp of his voice.
Grace shivered with anticipation when he lifted her by the waist and sat her on the edge of the bed. She peeled off her stockings and crawled back onto the bed, giving him room to join her as he finished undressing.
In the soft candlelight, his body resembled the statue of a god. Naked, he was glorious. Hunger spread through her like wildfire as his eyes paid homage to her face, down along the curls that draped over one breast, past the curves of her belly to the triangle of hair at the junction of her legs. She laid back and moved restlessly against the soft sheet, wishing his weight upon her.
Reaching down, Hugh took hold of her ankles, dragging her slowly toward him until her legs dangled over the edge.
Whatever he was going to do to her, she was willing.
“Lie back and watch.”
Her breath hitched in her chest when he caressed the inside of her leg, moving ever higher. He opened her legs wide and her heart pounded fiercely as his fingers edged closer with each pass, sometimes brushing past, other times lingering long enough for her to moan in wonder. Grace thought she would lose her mind when he moved closer and his cock touched her sex and rubbed against her. But as she lifted her hips for him, he pulled back.
“Take me,” she commanded gently. “By God, you take me now, or you will suffer this same fate the next time we make love.”
She began to raise herself but, smiling, he met her halfway, taking her wrists and pushing them back, trapping them with one hand above her head. His mouth was rough as he took possession of hers, and Grace matched his passion.
He broke off the kiss, and she hooked her legs around his thighs, trying to stop him from moving away. He kissed the hollow of her throat, and Grace’s body arched against him as his mouth suckled a hardened nipple.
When his lips moved down the soft curves of her belly, Grace held her breath. He pushed her legs over his shoulders and his mouth found her sex. The caress of his tongue on her flesh made her back arch. She wanted more. Her moans of pleasure made him only increase the tempo of his sweet attack.
Grace could not take enough air into her lungs, but she was beyond caring as the blood roared wildly in her head. Looking through a gauzy haze that clouded her vision, she rode the waves of release rushing through her.
It was some time after when she felt Hugh’s weight upon her.
“Will you take me now?”
He entered her in one slow stroke. Grace gasped, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, shuddering at the sudden discomfort. Hugh was buried deep within her but he waited, his entire body straining for control. She clung to him, again beginning to breathe.
“Hugh,” she whispered, kissing his neck and his shoulder, her body centering again on the pleasure of where they were joined.
Her hips moved ever so slightly, pulsing to a beat that she seemed to know from instinct. The dance of life. She arched her back and drew him in more.
Like two clay forms, they molded together, his arms tightly around her, and a new feeling washed through her. It was the feeling of being cherished, valued, loved as a woman. When Hugh began to move, she went with him, the pulsing rhythms they each felt rising undeniably within them.
She felt the climax come again, blinding her with its power, and she felt him erupt. And then two souls took flight as two bodies whirled in an aerobatic dance, soaring heavenward in an eternal love gyre. Curling, bending, bursting forth into a crystalline sphere. Far above. Distant. Illuminated by love.
Chapter 28
Leaving the carriage barn, Hugh rolled down his sleeves and donned his jacket. Darby had been busy preparing the balloon rigging yesterday afternoon, in spite of the objections of Grace and his sister. They were nearly ready to fly. The man had already proven his worth a hundred times over. Hugh didn’t want to think about how everything would be different now if the blacksmith hadn’t been on that lane.
Before starting back to the house, he paused to appreciate the hills. The rolling fields of Baronsford spread out like a great tapestry before the eye.
Hugh had been raised here. He and his siblings had run in the deer park, fished in the lake, played fox-and-seek in the walled gardens. They’d learned to swim in the loch, ride in the fields, hunt and shoot in the marshes. Miles of footpaths, weaving in and out along the bluffs and low hills overlooking the River Tweed provided a heaven of discovery for any child. This had been a happy place to grow up.
As he looked out at it now, his mind turned to his own son, Cameron.
