Page 96 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
Not with gentleness, but with an animal-like hunger. Like a drowning man. With every ounce of fear and desire and fury that had lived in him since the moment she ran into his life.
She gasped as he pushed her back against the door, his mouth greedy and wild. Her free hand tangled in his shirt, yanking him closer.
He wrapped his hands around hers and lifted the latch, shoved the door open, and they stumbled through it, still wrapped around each other.
Her back hit the wall just inside and she moaned against his lips as he kissed down her throat.
“Christ, Amara, I need ye,” he growled. “Need to touch ye again. Taste ye.”
She shivered. “I need ye, Rhys.”
His hands were everywhere. Tugging at her skirts, slipping beneath to find bare, smooth skin. She was already wet for him. He groaned and dropped to his knees.
He spread her thighs, baring her to the candlelight and his hunger.
She clutched the edge of the table, head falling back.
“Rhys —”
“Let me,” he murmured against her skin. “Let me worship ye.”
He buried his face between her legs, tongue sliding slow and sure through her molten core. She whimpered, legs trembling, one hand in his hair, the other braced behind her on the wood.
He devoured her.
With every cry she made, he grew harder. With every buck of her hips, he lost more control. She came apart fast, crying out, body shuddering against his mouth as he coaxed her through the wave.
Her pleasure wrecked him.
He stood and lifted her in his arms. She clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist, breath ragged, eyes wide with want.
“I need ye,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I need ye now.”
Rhys laid her on the bed and undressed her quickly but reverently, his hands not frantic but efficient. He stripped himself bare, never breaking eye contact. She reached for him, and he came to her like a man possessed.
He slid inside her with a guttural moan.
Her body was so tight, gripping him even tighter with each thrust. The sensation was almost unbearable.
“Ye aremine.” He said through gritted teeth, his furious pace relentless and so deep inside of her.
“Yers.” Amara said, barely above a whisper, and then her jaw went slack as if she meant to scream but the sound was muted.
Their bodies moved together like they were made to. Building faster with every thrust. He kissed her face, her neck, her shoulders, murmuring her name like a prayer.
Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper.
“I cannae…” she gasped.
“Let go, love,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve got ye.”
She came with a cry, her whole body arching, eyes wide and wild as he watched her fall apart beneath him.
That look. Raw, unguarded, and undone sent him right over the edge.
He poured himself into her with a broken sound, forehead pressed to hers, heart hammering like it might rip through his chest.
After, he lay beside her, arm wrapped tight around her waist, her head resting against his chest.
