Page 74 of Wild Scottish Rose

I squirmed at the friction.

There was something deeply erotic about being pinnedto the door like this, the cold air misting lightly with rain against my face, his thick thigh forcing me to brush myself against him. He didn’t move, his breath tickling my lips and the moment drew out between us, my insides going liquid.

I squeezed my thighs around his leg, craving more, and he moved, almost imperceptibly, but enough to have every nerve ending come to attention.

I hadn’t thought about how the velvet would feel, brushing against the soft silk of my underwear, when I’d dressed earlier that night. But now I rocked my hips, the silky slide of fabric between my legs meeting the hard muscles of his thigh. It felt wild, and wanton, standing in the misting rain, rocking my hips against his body as he held me pinned against the door.

I wanted more.

Reaching up, I gripped his neck and closed the gap between our mouths. Our teeth clinked, and I pulled back, shocked and embarrassed. A low growl sounded in his throat when I broke the kiss, and then he was on me.

It was like being tossed into a fire.

Owen hauled me forward, his hands cupping my bum, digging into the flesh there and holding so tightly I was certain he’d leave fingerprints. He pulled me forward until I hung, suspended, and devoured my lips as he rocked me on his leg, the friction driving me crazy. Moaning into his mouth, I shamelessly rode him, bringing myself to the brink, desire making little spots dance across my eyes as I gasped for breath.

“Inside now.”

Owen broke the kiss to fumble with the door behind me, pushing it open, and I clung to him, burying my face inhis neck, as my entire body shivered with unspent need. He carried me, literallycarried meto the bed, and dropped me on the corner.

“Stay.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, but did as I was told, vibrating out of my skin with need for him. Owen crossed the cottage, closing and locking the front door, and turned the switch on a small lamp on a side table with a blush pink lampshade. A rosy glow filled the room, and Owen made quick work of starting a fire, before crossing the room and lighting several of the candles I’d placed on shelves.

Owen turned, scanning the room, his face unreadable as he took in every detail. Setting the scene. Always a director, I realized.

Thunder rumbled, and the clouds unleashed their contents, rain pattering heavily against the roof, matching the pattering of nerves in my stomach. The way Owen was looking at me right now, like I was a picture to be painted, made my mouth grow dry. I swallowed as he brought his fingers up in the air, framing me.

“You’re stunning, Shona.”

I went to dismiss the compliment, but stopped, because I could read the truth of it in his eyes. He did think that I was stunning, his arousal pressing hard against his pants, his gaze hungry and yearning. This was not a man who lied. Keeping my eyes on his, I lifted the hem of my dress. Immediately, Owen crossed to me and stopped me, kneeling at my feet.

“Let me. I want to watch you bloom.”

Could I be both aroused and sad at the same time? Was it because I’d never been treated with such care before? Orwas it because a part of me knew that I didn’t get to keep Owen forever?

He slipped my shoes off, his fingers caressing my feet lightly, and I jumped, almost kicking him in the face.

“Ticklish?” Owen laughed, once he’d recovered from me almost breaking his nose.

“Aye. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that.” My cheeks burned. I would dearly love it if I could proceed with some modicum of grace around this man who was currently unraveling me from the inside out as his hands stroked lightly up my calves, inching my dress higher. My breath hitched as he revealed my thighs, and I jumped when he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin there. Luckily, he anticipated me this time and stopped my leg from flailing out.

“Ah, Shona. You’re going to make it hard to be careful with you.” Owen’s eyes had the look of a man enraptured, and I looked down to see his eyes focused on my purple silk underwear, with delicate lace edging. Reaching out, he traced a finger lightly across the silk, driving me closer to the edge with just the slightest brush of his finger.

“What if I don’t want you to be careful?” This was excruciating, the wait for him to touch me. The longer we drew this out, the more I could second-guess every last thing. Right now, I wanted to live in this moment, savoring this so when the time came that he had to leave I could tuck this memory away like a snow globe in my mind, taking it out every once in a while, to shake it and remember how magickal it was.

“You say things like that, but you don’t know what I…” Owen swallowed as he slipped a finger beneath the silk and found me warm and slick with need for him. I pressed myself forward, rocking my hips against his hand. “Damn it, Shona.”

“Don’t hold back, please.” I didn’t care how much I had to beg, I wanted Owen to consume me.

In one swift motion, Owen lifted my hips and pulled my dress so that my arms came over my head. Pushing me back on the bed, one hand to my chest, he looped the dress around my wrists so that my arms were locked in place over my head, and then he sat back, admiring me as I lay spread out before him in glorious purple silk.

“I have to say, I am a huge fan of your underwear choices.” I gasped as he reached out, lightly flicking at my breast until my nipple puckered beneath the silk, and then he found it with his mouth, dampening the cloth. Moaning, I arched against the heat of his tongue, as he dedicated himself to my breasts, my skin warming beneath the slippery silk.

“I like pretty sets,” I gasped, actively rolling my hips against him, needing, no, craving any friction I could find. Pleasure built inside me, and I wanted that delicious release of desire to take me careening off the edge.

“I love knowing this about you. Like you have this secret wanton side that nobody knows about. Like it’s our little secret. When you’re out in the garden, in your dirt-covered jeans, I can imagine what it would be like to unwrap you.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I wore somewhat more serviceable choices when I was working in the garden. He’d clamped his teeth down on the side of my breast, causing me to squeal as he bit hard enough to leave a mark.

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