Page 86 of The Outlaw and the Heir

His fingers pushed up my chin, forcing my head back so he could stare down at me with a frown. "Why are you always tryin' to get on my bad side?"

"I'm trying to get in your pants," I told him with a snort. "Or you in mine."

"Like I said," he said with a shake of his head. "It's like ya can't help yourself."

I squinted. “It's a problem of mine. Alas, I’m certain some part of you enjoys it."

"I'm sure you'll tell yourself that to feel better."

"There are other ways I can be made to feel better if you're feeling up to helping."

"You're awfully persistent."

"You got half-naked, put your hands on me, and now your hand is on my throat...oh, and it's been over a week. One could say I have one thing at the front of my mind."

Sighing, he bent down. “Just...behave. Ya don't need to overdo it."

"Never," I said, though I didn't get much more out as he finally kissed me. It was gentle and lingering, making me reach up to try to cup his face, settling for wrapping my hand around his head and holding him in case he tried to pull away. It wasn't trying to get him to deepen the kiss, which he did, but it was nice to have affection when he’d been treating me like the slightest touch might turn me to dust, scattered with the slightest breeze.

It also had the effect of drawing him closer, the hand on my neck sliding down my chest to rest on my stomach as he stepped around the chair. A shiver ran through me as his fingers curled at the bottom of my shirt to reach under and brush his skin against mine. I leaned back, allowing him access as he bent to reach further.

My pants were undone with a few flicks of his fingers, and he slid his hand inside. He hummed happily when he found I was already hard, his fingers wrapping around what he could reach and tugging gently. A soft moan escaped me, and his other hand slid down the back of my neck and tightened in what I assumed was excitement. My excitement rose when I felt him slide down to kneel in front of me, his hand still wrapped around me.

In the first weeks of getting to know one another carnally, there was no way I would have convinced him to kneel before me. It was common with men like us, at least in the rougher parts of the world. The belief was that certain things were moredisgraceful than simply being with a man. Getting on your knees to give them pleasure was one of them.

As Ambrose leaned forward and brought me into his mouth, I was extremely glad he was over that mentality. Admittedly, the sight of someone as strong, tough, and masculine as him doing itwasa titillating thrill, almost as much as the sensation of his mouth wrapped around my most sensitive part. Just as good was the sight of me disappearing into his mouth little by little as he tried to ease the gag of his throat.

I spread my legs, granting him better access as he used his hands to pull my pants down so they dropped to my ankles. I had a feeling we’d end up where I’d need to kick them off if I wanted to move, but for now, I was content to let them sit there as he bobbed.

Setting my hand atop his head, I groaned as I felt the tip reach the back of his throat, and his muscles gripped it. I shuddered when his hands slid down my bare thighs and gripped tight, thumbs caressing the sensitive skin as a wet noise came from his mouth, and he began to bob vigorously. The noise could probably be explained or not even heard, but I had to be careful to keep my vocalizations to a minimum because there was no explainingthataway easily.

Which was swiftly tested when the tricky bastard apparently managed to wet his finger without me noticing before pushing it inside me. I could have pretended that having some sensation again after going too long without was why I had to fight so hard to be quiet. The truth was, it was because it was Ambrose touching me again,wantingme again. I had a weakness for him that I couldn't remember having with any previous partner, and even if in the beginning he’d been awkward and clumsy, his touch and his attempts to pleasure me had been intoxicating.

Now, though, it wasn't just that; he had been paying attention and learning. Now, the two of us were betteracquainted with one another's bodies and what worked. Now, he knew just when to curl his finger inside me, so I whimpered softly before he pushed another one in. Spit wasn't going to cover our needs for long, but it was good enough for his fingers to find the spot that made me jerk in surprise and pleasure.

"Ambrose," I managed to get out as quietly as I could. "Let me get up and on that bed before I lose it right here."

He pulled off, looking up. Concern was etched into his brow, but I could see my suggestion was tempting. "I don't?—"

"You won't," I said, speaking from a genuine place and a place of genuine need. "You wouldn't hurt me like that, I know that. I trust that."

I could see in his face that, like me, he found trust as intoxicating as a kiss or my mouth on him. All worry and fear dissolved as he pulled off with minimal reluctance. Reaching out with my right hand, he took it and helped me to my feet, holding on as I kicked my pants away. When he finally let go of me, I removed my shirt, determined to prove I didn't need him to help me and, thus, worry about me.

If he’d still had reservations, they were gone as he pulled at his clothes and backed up toward the bed, obviously waiting for me. I took my time because of the sight of him leaning back on his arms with what was certainly a lingering look. I had yet to grow tired of his body, which looked like it was made purely out of muscle from all the work he did, kissed by the sun, and just the slightest bit of sweat from the heat of the room.

A sigh of anticipation came from me as I lifted my leg to place my knee on one side of his body and then the other on the other side. I gripped his face and kissed him, pushing our bodies together before dropping down so the full hard length of him slid along my ass. One of his arms wrapped around my waist and tightened fiercely as he forced me to rut against him.

I was lost in the sensation, and apparently, I’d been distracted earlier trying to get my shirt off because I didn't realize he’d retrieved the oil until I felt not two but three fingers push inside me. Which, contrary to what I'd told him, certainly did hurt as he stretched me faster than was comfortable. At the same time, it wasn't the kind of hurt I’d been talking about, and I welcomed the pain as he stretched me open, forcing a groan from me as he pushed in deep.

"Okay?" he asked softly, a hard edge to his voice that excited me further.

"Definitely," I said, pushing down onto his fingers to prove I was doing just fine. "But I'll be a lot better in a moment."

"You already feel amazing," he murmured, nipping at my bottom lip.

"I bet I can feel even better."

"I bet."

---