Page 67 of The Highlander's Pirate Bride

Heat coursed through her, robbing her breath and causing her to reach up, eyes closed, for the blind touch of his lips.

He groaned as their greedy mouths met. He nibbled and teased her lower lip, and then his tongue found hers. All the cares and woes and the weariness in her bones fell away, until all that remained was her burning need for him. The pure and simple wanting of her body for his touch.

As they drew breath, she grinned up at him, raising a hand to brush a lock of his hair behind his ear. “I havenae forgotten yer promise, MacNeil.”

“What is that?” He seemed bemused.

“I recall that ye promised me something when we were sheltering near Loch Torridon.”

“Aye lass. I havenae forgotten. But let me hear from ye what it is.”

“Mm. I believe ye have forgotten after all.”

He laughed. “Then mayhap ye should refresh me memory.”

She huffed. “If ye cannae recall, then I dinnae wish ye tae remind ye.”

He bent and lifted the hem of her kirtle. “I cannae think. I need ye naked before I can recall me promises.”

She obligingly raised her hips so he could slide the gown higher.

“Ah.” He stroked a hand slowly over her bare thighs that were now exposed to his view, causing her to wriggle and lift her hips again. With the other hand he unlaced her kirtle.

She pressed against him, her pulse racing as she felt the hardness of his shaft beneath his kilt.

He slipped his hand between her thighs and she moved her knees apart, opening to him.

He chuckled softly. “Mayhap me memory is being restored. I am certain it will come tae me if ye lift up yer arms and let me take off this garment.”

He slipped the kirtle and her undershirt over her head and off so that she lay naked before him on the bed.

“Has yer memory come back tae ye now?”

The breath hitched in her throat as he dipped his head to suckle her breast. Speech was becoming difficult and she leaned back, letting the sensations take her, feeling his hand slipping between her folds, his lips, tongue and teeth on her puckered nipple driving her almost to desperation.

He lifted his head and grinned at her. “I dae believe I remember. Did I nae promise tae take ye tae heaven, just as ye’d taken me?”

She grunted, seizing him by the hair. “Dinnae stop, Maxwell, or I swear I’ll take me dirk and…”

He laughed, “and ye’ll what?” Then he lowered his head to the place where his fingers were toying with her slippery folds and used his tongue instead, silencing her.

He sipped and licked, his tongue circling and suckling her sensitive nub, his fingers slipping inside her and out again, slowly mimicking the way his shaft would work on her. She groaned at the pleasure of it, thrashing her head on the pillow, consumed by the building ecstasy of his touch.

“Aye.That is it…” Moaning and writhing under him, clutching his shoulders, his woolen shirt rough against her sensitized nipples she was conscious only of his weight, his strength, the sliding and slipping of his tongue and fingers, the musky man-scent of him filling her nostrils.

She cared for naught but this spiraling, intoxicating, voluptuous, pleasure, taking her to new heights, striving for some distant satisfaction that seemed forever beyond her grasp.

And then it came.

Waves that took her higher and higher with an indescribably pleasure, until she rode the crest, callingGodandMaxwell, her nails raking his back screaming an incoherent message to the wind.

As he held her, gasping and groaning, she managed, “Ye… Now… Inside me.”

He needed no urging. Embracing her in his big arms, holding her as if she was made of Dresden china, he thrust his granite-shaft deep and rocked his hips in time with hers. It was quick. A few more thrusts and he roared, lifted his head, and shared in her ecstasy.

Much later, after they had slept awhile, jumbled in each other’s arms Aileen stroked his cheek, grinning.

“Ye did well, Maxwell. I ken ye recalled yer promise.” She shook her head. “But ye may have to refresh yer memory many times over. In case ye forget.”

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