Page 118 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
“Aye, I will,” he said, kissing along her jaw, then down the side of her neck. “But slow. I want to learn every inch of ye.”
He dragged his lips over the hollow at the base of her throat, and she gasped, her head falling back to give him more access.
His hands slipped beneath the hem of her chemise, his rough palms skimming over her thighs as he pushed it up.
She tensed, and he paused, lifting his head.
“Ye all right?” he asked, searching her face.
She nodded, her eyes wide. “I want this. I wantye.”
Kian lifted her chemise inch by inch, slowly baring her to the cool air and the warmth of his gaze.
“So bonnie,” he whispered as he tossed the garment aside. His lips brushed her collarbone. “I cannae believe ye’re mine.”
His hands stroked her waist and then slid upward, cupping her breasts reverently.
Abigail gasped, trembling under his touch. Everywhere he touched came alive.
“Kian,” she moaned, arching into his hands. “I… oh…”
He kissed her breasts, his tongue lapping at her creamy skin, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
Abigail tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. Her thighs brushed his, her bare skin tingling where they touched. She pressed herself against him, needing his heat.
He pulled her to the bed, guiding her down with gentle hands. “Lie back,” he murmured, brushing kisses over her belly. “Let me have ye, bit by bit.”
Her body sank into the mattress, but her senses heightened. He kissed down her arm, tracing the inside of her wrist with his lips, then his tongue.
“So soft,” he said. “So warm.”
She shivered when his lips brushed her breasts again, then moved lower, trailing down her belly.
Her breath came fast now, her hips shifting beneath him.
“Please,” she whispered. “Dinnae stop.”
“I’d never,” he rasped, lowering his head between her thighs.
Abigail pushed her fingers into his hair and opened her legs wider. His mouth moved over her mound, and she gasped softly. His tongue flicked against her bud, moving back and forth.
“Oh, Kian, that feels so good,” she moaned.
Kian slid his hands under her bottom and pulled her against his mouth. Lustful groans and moans spilled out of him as he brought her to the brink.
“I feel it coming,” Abigail gasped as pressure built in her core.
She teetered on the edge. Then, pleasure crashed through her.
Kian moaned as he lapped up her juices. “I want ye to feel pleasure.”
“I do. I do… so much. I want ye inside me,” she said breathlessly, barely able to get the words out.
His mouth returned to hers as his hands stroked her waist, her ribs, the back of her thighs. “Ye were made for me.”
She clung to him, moaning softly. Her heart pounded in her chest, louder than a war drum.
She pulled at his clothes. “Take it all off,” she begged.
