Page 22 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

"Please," she moaned.

And he lost his mind.

He tunneled a hand into her thick, silky hair, cupping her nape. Her rigid nipples rubbed him through his shirt. With a long groan, he gave in to the need, crushing his mouth to hers and thrusting his tongue between her sweet lips to devour the flavor of her. She opened wider for him, her body going soft against him, her tongue twining with his again and again. Her mouth was hot and wet, her body warm and pliant. He shifted his arm, the one clamped around the post, to take hold of her hip and tug her lower body into his. The rock-hard erection barely contained in his slacks chafed against her belly, and every last shred of reason disintegrated.

"Jamie," he mumbled against her throat, his lips scraping her tender flesh.

She flung her arms around his waist and bucked her hips into him. "Gavin, please."

As if his body had a mind of its own, his hand raced down her thigh to dive beneath the dress and then whisked up the inside of her thigh until his fingers found — Oh God, the slick heat of her desire, exposed to the world.

"No panties?" he said, his tone verging on frantic. She'd been walking around naked except for the ultra-thin toga dress? Lust pulsated through his entire body, and somehow, his hard-on got even harder.

"Aye," she said, tugging his shirt out of his waistband. "Wanted this. Wanted you. Inside me, please, now, please."

Though a faint voice in the back of his mind urged him to stop, he'd roared straight past common sense into the steamy, seductive waters of the siren. Of her. His Jamie, pleading with him to take her.

"Fuck," he hissed, and it was the last coherent word he spoke.

He tried to nab the condom from her fingers.

She closed her fingers around it. "I'll do it."

Damn. He'd never survive that.

Her fingers found his zipper and freed his aching cock. The soft flesh of her palm skimmed over his skin as she rolled the condom over his length.

A breath caught in his throat.

She frisked her hand up and down his dick.

He pushed her hand away, shoved up her skirt, and grabbed one of her thighs, hooking it over his hip. She locked her arms around his shoulders, breathing hard, her chest sprinkled with a delicate pinkness, her lips swollen from their kiss.

He buried himself inside her body.

"Gavin," she gasped.

The need to possess her, to come inside her hot little body, compelled him to thrust. Hard. Relentless. Faster and faster until their bodies slapped together and her wetness made a sucking sound every time he drove into her. He grasped her breast through the dress, scraping his thumb over the nipple again and again, his need escalating with every little gasp and moan she made. Her stiletto heel dug into his ass. He pounded into her heat, the scent of her need intoxicating, and the bed began to jump with every punishing thrust.

The pressure to come, it mounted inside him, throbbed through his cock.

He let go of her breast and shoved his hand between their bodies, rubbing her clitoris hard and fast.

"Oh God," she whimpered, "I'm coming, Gav —"

Her orgasm wrenched her whole body. Her sex pumped him with wave after wave of powerful contractions. He fought to hold off his climax, desperate to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her first, but the pressure built and built until he couldn't breathe. She cried out, her back bowed, her nails scraped against his jacket. Only when she'd finished, only when her body went limp in his arms, did he pull his hips back and pound into her one last time, punctuating his release with a strangled shout.

Panting, sweat dribbling down his neck inside his shirt collar, he nuzzled her neck. His dick was still inside her. The aroma of sex lingered in the air. Damn, he hadn't meant for this to happen. They'd never done it like this, rutting like wild animals.

He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her cheek. "That was fucking amazing."

"Aye," she said breathlessly, and linked her hands behind his neck. "We fucked. It was amazing. This is how I want things to be between us."

Gavin drew his head back, studying her moonlit face, ethereal as an angel. "What are you saying?"

"You want time and space to sort yourself." She toyed with the collar of his shirt. "You can have it. But I want us to keep having sex."

He must've hallucinated for a second there. No way could she have said what he thought she'd said. "Come on, we need to talk."

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