Page 80 of The Highlander's Runaway Nun
“Seein’ ye gives me great joy,” he groaned as he went to work on her underthings, untying laces and pulling off one piece at a time.
“And I ye,” she said as her hands greedily pulled his tunic over his head.
“Laura,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing hers, “I’ve wanted ye more than I ken how to say.”
She reached for him, hands trembling as they ran along the strong plane of his back, over the muscles of his shoulders, feeling the steady thrum of life beneath his skin.
“Bradley,” she whispered, “I’ve ached for ye every day I was gone. Daenae leave me again.”
“Never again,” he said as he moved with urgency, pulling off his boots and his kilt until he was nude before her.
Her eyes took in his strong, manly form and sharp ridges of his abdomen. She inhaled a deep breath.
He moved over her. His hands slid down to her waist, fingers curling gently as though to memorize her shape.
She leaned into him, every nerve singing with anticipation, her pulse racing with each touch.
“Ye’re mine, Laura,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “And I’ll never let ye go.”
With those words, he plunged his face between her thighs. She gasped as he allowed his tongue to move skillfully on her rosebud.
Laura felt the sensation course through her. “Oh, Bradley…” she whispered.
He kissed and licked softly. She thought the hunger she felt for him would consume her.
The pulsing throbbed low in her belly, building stronger and faster.
“Oh, me love…” she moaned.
She felt his lips press against her. His tongue flicked back and forth on her sensitive button.
The throbbing exploded into a rush of pleasure, “Oh, Bradley. I’m losing meself,” she whispered.
Bradley moaned as he licked her flowing juices. He slowly placed soft kisses on her belly, careful not to apply too much pressure as he continued up to her breasts.
He took a taut nipple in his mouth and teased it with his tongue.
Laura let her hands wander, tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his neck, feeling the warmth of him against her palms.
“Ye feel warm,” she breathed. “I want ye… all of ye.”
He captured her hand and pressed it to his chest, letting her feel the heat of him.
“It’s all for ye,” he murmured, voice thick with yearning.
Her cheeks warmed as she pressed closer, feeling the strength of his arms around her, the curve of his torso against her own.
Her body hummed with need and longing, alive to every brush of his fingers, every soft caress along her arms and back.
“Bradley,” she whispered, “I’ve never felt… so… whole.”
He leaned in, forehead against hers, breath mingling as he pushed his manhood inside of her. She released a soft gasp. He groaned with delight.
He whispered low, “Ye make me complete, lass. I couldnae live a day without the sound of yer voice or the feel of yer hand.”
Laura let herself sigh, melting into him, reveling in the closeness as he slid deeper inside of her. She opened her thighs wider, letting him in.
Her hands slid along the firm line of his chest, over the swell of his shoulders, and down to his waist, memorizing the strength there as his hips pumped. His rigid staff gliding in and out of her, slowly.
