Page 59 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
“Arthur?”
He stared at her, white petals woven between locks of fiery red hair. A crown of purity, for a goddess of the waves. Slowly, he drew her closer, hand settling against the small of her back. Just as their noses brushed against each other, he paused, inhaling the scent of floral and forest, of the earth and the faintest traces of salt from the sea.
“You…you win our bet,” Oliva said breathlessly.
And without another word, Arthur claimed his prize.
30
Olivia had thought she’d stepped into a dream, but after Arthur’s lips pressed against hers, she was certain that she’d stumbled into fantasy. It lasted so much longer than their first, now that she was willingly participating in the exchange.
His beard prickled lightly against her cheeks, his taste faintly of the fermented mead served during dinner. Sweet and salty from the scent of flowers and the natural tinge of salt he carried with him, regardless how far they were from the sea.
His hands combed through the hair at the back of her head, undoing the loose braids she’d worn for the last night of celebration. She thought she’d grown used to the feel of his hands touching her hair, but this was entirely different. His tugging against strands was rougher, less coordinated than the gentle weaving he’d done before, and he used that tension to keep her by his side while she continued to experience him. Not that Olivia was interested in pulling away this time.
Another gust of wind briefly pulled the two apart, Olivia’s fighting to catch her breath as his seafoam gaze overtook her completely. He had pulled her well beneath the surface, catching her against his current and taking her to the depths of his desires. But Olivia knew she wouldn’t drown beneath his weight, the ringing pressure sent between her ears merely by his eye. She was a selkie, after all.
“My goddess o’the sea,” Arthur crooned. His hands slid down her back and secured around her waist, and Olivia let out a startled gasp as the laird of MacDonnell hoisted her into the air. Her arisaid fluttered delicately to the ground, disturbing a small patch of petals, and Olivia felt the chill of the mountain’s air against her sleeveless arms.
“My oceanic temptress;myselkie.” Arthur kissed her once more, the possessive emphasis on, ‘my’ sending a far more pleasing shiver across Olivia’s skin. She grasped at his face and kissed deeply, legs wrapping around his waist to allow him mobility. And Arthur took full advantage of it, starting across the grove while a shower of moonlit petals fluttered after.
“I want to be on top of you,” Olivia whispered breathlessly.
“‘Twould nay be the first time I let ye,” Arthur replied with a smirk.
Olivia straightened slightly, hair tugging in the wind as she flashed Arthur a dramatic scowl. “Are ye windin’ me up?”
“I wasnae opposed to a beautiful goddess draped across me,” Arthur teased. “But, aye; a true warrior never allows himself to be dominated by their opponent, ethereally beautiful though they might be.”
Olivia cocked her brow, a mischievous grin of her own appearing across her lips. She watched as Arthur’s smile turned bemused, then panicked as she suddenly leaned back, legs still wrapped around his waist. With a startled grunt, Arthur grasped her tightly in his arms and turned sharply, hitting the ground with Olivia triumphantly sitting on top of his chest. Her legs squeezed around his muscular waist, and it took everything she had not to collapse there and then.
“That’s playin’ dirty!” Arthur laughed, still catching his breath from the fall.
“Ye mean ye havenae the time to get a feel for me tactics?” Olivia leaned in close, her hair brushing against his face as a familiar warmth pooled to the center of her body. “I practically did the same thing as last time.”
“Ooh, I ken yer ways, lass,” Arthur crooned, adopting a matter-of-fact tone to his voice. “Ye use that charming body o’yers to distract me.”
“And it’s worked twice fer me so far,” Olivia gloated.
“Unless me plan from the start was to get ye on top of me,” Arthur countered.
Olivia let out a dramatic huff, but stole a quick kiss from the man sprawled out beneath her. “Well, I still managed to pin ye proper this time. I suppose ye arenae as fast as ye claim.”
Arthur’s brow narrowed, smirking widening. “I never claimed such a thing.”
“Well…” Olivia swallowed, heat pulsing between her legs. “I hear yer stamina is yer greatest asset. Is…is that something ye claim?”
As if to reply, Arthur suddenly grabbed her hips and rolled her over, pulling a startled shriek of delight from Olivia’s throat. She landed in the petal-carpeted grass, hair strewn out in every direction, as Arthur hung above her, hands gently pinning her wrists.
Feeling a squirm run throughout her middle, Olivia’s heels dug into the ground, kicking her shoes free before curling her toes against the petal-strewn grass. Once more, Arthur leaned in to steal a kiss, leaving her breathless and dizzy once they broke free.
But this time, Arthur’s lips continued down the nape of her neck, lips brushing lightly against her skin and trailing across her collar bone. Then, one hand freed from her wrist and grasped her bosom; even with fabric separating their skin, Olivia knew this was infinitely better than when she’d pleasured herself all those nights ago. Frantically, she used her free hand to loosen her bodice’s strings, giving Arthur enough space to slip his hand beneath and fully cup her breast.
“O-Oh, Arthur…!”
He grasped and gently squeezed, thumb massaging her rise as another pleasant shiver quaked Olivia’s core. She twisted her legs once more, tensing briefly before bracing herself against the waves of heat building within her. This was ridiculous; it had taken her far longer to get to this point, and Arthur had barely begun exploring her body.
A moan escaped her lips, trapped fingers flexing against the laird’s grasp as her free hand grabbed his back. She dug in her nails, delighted to hear a startled snarl rumble out from Arthur’s chest, and further delighted as he retaliated with a gentle nip against her neck.
