Page 41 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
“I’d kiss ye again, and bring a hand over yer bosom. But, as me hand cannae go through doors…?”
One of Olivia’s hands cusped around her breast, finger tracing the bump beneath the thin material of her night gown. A soft gasp escaped her lips, her other hand instinctively moving to her opposite breast.
“Aye, that’s it, selkie,” Arthur encouraged. “But daenae be too rough with yerself. I’m nae a rake, after all.”
She obeyed, gently massaging each breast while her thumbs traced the width of her rise. She could t help but moan a bit louder, acutely aware how dramatic a difference this was to simply placing a hand limply over it.
“I’d cradle them so tenderly…trace every rise that poked through yer gown. And then, if ye asked me to…”
“I-I’m asking ye to,” Olivia insisted breathlessly.
Arthur’s smile was completely audible. “I’d slip a hand beneath yer collar. Touch the breasts themselves; give ye an experience ye cannae feel with clothes acting as a barrier.”
Olivia moved to slip the nightgown over her head, leaving only her robe to partially cover her body. She cupped her exposed breasts curiously, a cold shiver running through her at the physical contact. Her fingers traced her nib once more, and she couldn’t help but gasp a bit louder this time, surprised at howmuch more she could feel. How sensitive one’s skin could truly be.
“Aye, that’s it. And then, I’d slide one hand down the side o’yer leg,”
She did so eagerly, giving herself a chance to truly explore the curve of her waist, the slight gap between her legs. Her other hand remained against her breast, thumb tracing her stiffening nipple, and she massaged the gap between her legs. The actions together created a pleasant shudder that rolled down the length of her spine, gathering into her core as a tingling ache began to throb deep inside her.
“And then…”
And then?
“Once ye grew used to me presence, were familiar with the weight o’me hands on yer body…” Arthur exhaled sharply, and Olivia wondered if he was having as much trouble breathing as she was right now. She moved instinctively, gently exploring the folds of her womanhood before easing her fingers within. Another sharp gasp, another shudder at such a dramatically new sensation.
“I would leave no stone unturned, no part o’ye untouched, selkie.”
She would not either, pushing and probing as a new jolt, a new gasp, a new, tingling warmth overtook her the further she went. Massaging herself made the feeling last longer, and Olivia slowly fell into a rhythm, completely entranced by the laird’s word as she did so.
“Ooh, and I’d tell ye so many sweet things, me goddess of the sea. How lovely ye smelled with our scents intertwined, how beautiful ye were as ye trembled in me arms.”
God, yes. His strong embrace would be preferred over the rigid stiffness of the doorframe she arched her back against.
“And I’d kiss ye again,”
Her core burned terribly.
“And again,”
The pressure was immense.
“Andagain,”
Olivia let a much louder moan slip as her body practically lifted into the air, spreading from a building tension that was just on the cusp of release.
“Until yer skin was as red as yer hair, me wee selkie.”
Everything erupted at once as Olivia cried out longingly, the build in her body springing forth like the crashing end of a waterfall. Every flickering candle was like the sun, the cool air sharp and biting as her skin trembled and tingled.
Her eyes rolled back, unable to fully grasp the experience all at once. And then, just as quickly as it came, it left at a trickling pace. The water flowed downstream, calmed its temperament, and eventually joined with the endless sea. And Olivia drifted amongst it, back pressed against the door, allowing the ebb and flow of the various sensations to settle.
“And then…”
There was more?
Arthur’s hand gently tapped against the door, and Olivia willed herself to turn and press her palm against it. “I would say ye were wonderful. And there wasnae a moment I saw ye look more beautiful than ye did right now.”
Breathing came a bit easier, now. Her head wasn’t swimming, and Olivia properly felt the grains of wood against the door. Another breath, and the warmth in her core soon returned to its origin, leaving her shivering at the slight, oceanic chill. She reached for her gown and covered her slightly numbed legs, face pressing against the door in a desperate attempt to hear Arthur’s own breath.
