Page 27 of Mistletoe and Kisses
She lay a hand over his heart, feeling its steady beat. A heart she knew beat for her. “You are the most . . .”
He brushed a hand on her cheek as she stood, lost for words. Hugh lifted his shirt free from the top of his kilt and pulled it over his head.
With his bare torso and striking blue and gray kilt, he looked for all the world like a rugged Scottish highlander—one she was hoping would soon ravish her. He took hold of the buckle of his belt and gave her another saucy grin.
He took his hand away and she mewed with disappointment. Her elusive prize remained hidden under layers of heavy wool. When he met her eyes, she saw all humor had disappeared from his face.
“I want you to do this; that way, you are in control. Nothing happens from this moment on without your express permission,” he said.
She lay her trembling fingers on the buckle of his belt. His words were perfect in their reverence. They would have a lifetime of knowing each another, but there would only ever be one first time. A moment to treasure always.
She looked deep into his piercing blue eyes as she separated the leather belt from the buckle and dropped it to the floor. His kilt quickly followed.
Her gaze drifted lower, taking in the sight of Hugh in all his splendor. She sucked in a hesitant breath. She knew enough from overhearing the not-so-scholarly discussions in the meals hall at college to understand the state of his manhood and what it meant.
He wanted her.
“May I?” he asked, taking hold of the sides of her shift.
“Please.”
As her shift joined the rest of the scattered garments on the floor, Mary resisted the instinctive reaction to cover herself. She was about to become his woman; this moment demanded full honesty between them. She let her hands fall to her sides.
“Come,” he said, offering her his hand.
Hugh drew her to the bed and pulled back the covers before laying her down on the soft linen sheets. He soon joined her, rolling over so that they faced one another. She shivered as he reached out and cupped one of her breasts. Her whole world tilted as Hugh bent his head and, drawing a nipple into his mouth, gently nipped at it with his teeth.
“Oh, my sweet . . .” she murmured.
She clutched at the bedclothes as he slipped a finger into her heat and began to stroke. He sucked hard on her nipple, and Mary whimpered. The torture was exquisite.
When he finally released her nipple from his masterful attention, he rose over her, and gave her a kiss that made her toes curl.
She groaned as he slipped a second finger into her, and when his thumb began to rub against her sensitive bud, she sobbed. Her need for release built with every stroke.
“Is that good? Tell me if you want me to change anything. I can go harder or deeper; I am at your command,” he said.
“Don’t stop,” Mary pleaded.
“I love you,” he said.
She was beyond words at this moment, unable to reciprocate his declaration, consumed by the driving need to find her sexual release.
He slowed his strokes and murmured in her ear. “I want you come, but I need to be inside you when you do.”
She opened her eyes as he released her from his touch. He moved between her legs, his hard erection brushing the side of her inner thigh.
“This may sting for a second, but I need you to stay with me. As soon as your body accepts me, I will make it enjoyable again,” he said.
Placing the bulk of his weight on one arm, he lowered himself over her before slowly parting her slick folds with his cock. Mary winced at the sensation of Hugh stretching her and held her breath.
He stilled, patiently waiting for her body to adjust. The discomfort eased and she slowly breathed out.
“Does it still hurt?”
“No,” she replied.
He began to move within her, slowly at first then quickening as his strokes deepened. With her hands gripping either side of his hips, she urged him on. The tension began to build within her once more. Her need to reach the peak came with every one of his thrusts. His groans of pleasure added to her own.
