Page 64 of How to Be a Scottish Mistress

She stared at his mouth and felt desire stir within her, tightening her nipples, heating and dampening her inner thighs. Yet Gavin appeared unaffected. His expression was content, almost lazy, his eyelids lowering as though he were going to sleep.

Does he know how he makes me feel?

Lifting her chin, Fiona kissed him. Gavin’s languid pose disappeared instantly and his lips parted eagerly, encouraging the sensual teasing play of her tongue. Lost in the haze of desire, Fiona moved her lips and tongue in a slow, provocative rhythm. Rejoicing in the sensations, she ran her hands over his hard body, drawing infinite pleasure from the touch.

Was this the usual reaction between lovers? Did their hearts race and their blood warm and their breaths catch whenever they drew near? Did they joke and tease and laugh together? Did they share their thoughts and hopes with the same commitment as their bodies? Did they hold and keep each other as fiercely as they claimed one another?

Fiona shifted her position again. Gavin inhaled sharply, then let out a soft groan. The evidence of his arousal was hard and unmistakable, poking insistently into her soft belly. She felt her body responding to his as a matter of course and wondered at the intensity of the mysterious bond they shared.

She looked at him another minute and then allowed the dam inside her to break. The feelings of hope and passion and excitement rushed forth, filling Fiona with purpose.

It took little effort to rapidly divest Gavin of his clothes. His muscles rippled as he stretched his arms over his head, switching to a more comfortable position. Fiona had always admired his fit body, yet seeing it unclothed in the bright light of day was an almost humbling experience.

In her eyes, he was beautiful. Some might object to the puckered scar across his left shoulder or find the thick, dark swirls of hair that cover his upper chest and lower abdomen unattractive. But not her. Scars and all, imperfect as God made him, her attention was fully captivated by this noble man.

Emboldened, she flattened her palm on the tight muscles of his flat belly. He squirmed as the tips of her fingers sensually traced the heated flesh from side to side. With each movement, her hand deliberately went lower and lower, causing his whole body to clench.

Fiona stilled and put her hand over his heart. The sound of Gavin’s breaths coming in short, sharp pants made her feel wicked. And free. She wanted more of it. Glorying in the freedom, she continued with her explorations, this time using her lips. His muscled flesh was warm in most places, yet hot in others.

She began kissing his stomach as she ran her fingers lightly along his inner thighs. Gavin’s hips jerked forward. Eagerly, Fiona grasped them and pulled him closer, blowing a warm breath on his turgid penis.

“Is it all right if I . . . ?” Fiona inquired in a throaty tone, her voice trailing off deliberately.

“Ye’re a witch to tease and torture me,” he rasped, moving his hands down her back until he cupped her bottom.

Fiona raised her head and assumed an air of innocence. “Do you wish me to stop?”

“Minx. Ye know very well my heart will shatter from disappointment if ye turn away from me now.”

“That sounds dreadfully serious, my lord.” Fiona swirled her tongue teasingly through the springy hair at the base of his manhood. “I simply cannot allow it.”

“Jesus, lass,” he said raggedly.

She took his straining penis into her mouth, first stroking his length with her tongue, then surrounding the sensitive tip with her lips. She heard his gasp of shock, quickly followed by a series of deep moans of pleasure.

From this angle it was impossible to see his jaw clench and strain, but Fiona could easily imagine it. She continued her ministrations, her tongue stroking slickly against his hardness, increasing the pressure and rhythm, mimicking the act of love.

She licked and suckled and teased every inch of him, caressing his length with her tongue, massaging his inner thighs and heavy sack with her fingertips. Inexperienced with the act, Fiona let Gavin’s reactions guide her moves, his writhing hips letting her know she was getting it right.

Suddenly, he grasped her shoulders firmly and groaned loud and long. He tried to pull away from her, but she held fast, overwhelmed by the trusting intimacy of the act.

“My God, Fiona.”

His hips jerked and she felt the searing heat of his seed on her tongue. It was the most intimate, erotic thing she had ever experienced and she sighed deeply with pleasure, savoring every moment, continuing to gently absorb his pulsing quivers as they slowed and then finally ceased.

“Did I please you?” she whispered, when she was at last able to catch her breath.

Like a lazy, contented cat, Gavin stretched his back and shoulders and raised himself on his elbows. His head was tilted against the tree trunk and he watched her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Nay, ye dinnae please me, Fiona. Ye astounded and delighted me. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“I knew you’d like it,” she confessed, running her hands across his damp chest.

His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head. Copying his feline movements, Fiona snuggled against him, stretching and pressing, caressing him with her entire body. It felt wantonly sinful to rub his taut, naked flesh while she remained fully clothed. Gavin apparently felt the same, judging by his low-throated groans.

“Gavin,” she murmured, looking down at his large, callused hands. Masculine and strong, yet they held her with such tenderness. It was part of the enigma Fiona found so irresistible. “Will you make love to me now?”

They worked together to push her gown up and out of the way. He grasped her hand and pressed a tender kiss in her palm, so delicately, reverently, as though she were as fragile and precious as the blown glass perfume bottle he had bought for her.

When Gavin spread her thighs with his knees and moved between her legs, Fiona reached up joyfully to embrace him, longing for the moment when they would once again be joined as one. He entered her slick warmth forcefully, filling the emptiness inside with one strong thrust. She moaned and arched, pulling him deeper. Passion rising, she clung to him, kissing his neck, his shoulder, his cheek. She could feel his heart beating against her breast in a synchronized rhythm. Together. As one.

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