Page 60 of Long Live the King

I put out my hand and he took it and pulled me slowly close to him. He put his beer down on the table and pushed my hair behind my ear. Then he leaned down, raised my chin and kissed me, just a press on my lips but oh... it was a sweet and delicious feeling.

I liked him so much. I wanted him. I was freaking out because I barely knew him — he was so old fashioned. I didn’t want to be easy, but also... I really wanted him to be here. I didn’t want him to go.

This internal monologue stirred around in my mind while my arms with a mind of their own, went up around his neck and his kisses pressed against my mouth, parting my lips, his tongue entering my mouth. Our kisses deepened and breaths quickened. His mouth moved up my cheek, drawing along my skin to my ear, his deep bullish breaths, warming my skin and vibrating my body.

“Are you staying the...” I asked, his mouth suckling my neck, “the um... night, m’laird?”

He paused, his forehead against mine. “I believe I must ask permission first.”

“Of whom?” I kissed him again, a deep lingering kiss, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths.

Then, long after I had forgotten what we had been talking about... finally he broke away. “I daena ken who... but...?”

Our lips found each other again, his arms tightening around me.

I breathed near his ear. “I’m a modern girl, the only permission you need is mine.”

He pressed his mouth to my neck, suckling and kissing, his hands pressing against my back, pulling me into him. Then his hand settled on my front, his palm on my breast. He stilled and seemed to be struggling with an internal dilemma — he moaned. “Tis nae... tis alright?”

I said, “It’s alright, m’laird.”

His hand went up under my shirt and fondled my breast over my bra. His mouth settled on my jaw, by my ear, his breath even more bullish, his movements growing to what felt like desperation.

He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist. My mouth settled on his, and, his hands under my thighs he carried me to my bed. He lowered me onto it, where it was near the window at the end of the room, tucked under the eave, and he banged his head. “Och nae!”

He still managed to get me down gently but I sat up. “Lochie, are you okay?”

“Aye.” He stood there for a moment rubbing his head. “I daena fit, ye ken, yer roof is too low.”

“I know, it’s not good, it’s?—”

He reached under the side table and lifted it about two feet to the left under the window, then he reached under the mattress to the bed frame and dragged it out from under the eaves, looking up to make sure it was centered under the high point of the ceiling. I laughed as I rode the bed out to the middle of the room.

I flicked on the table lamp, then climbed from the bed. “I’m sorry I’m ruining all the effort you put into carrying me here.” I rushed down the length of the room, turned off the overhead light in the kitchen, and then I returned.

He was sitting on the bed, looking nervous. I wrapped my arms around his head and looked down on his face. His chin tilted up.

“You nervous, m’laird?”

“Aye, tis momentous.”

“Is it?”

“Aye, ye holdin’ my hand was of great import, but allowin’ me tae come tae yer bed has meant verra much more.”

I kissed him and he put his arms around me and pulled me over him and we lay back on the bed. I was straddling him and could tell he was firm and hot and ready, as my friend used to say, ‘his train was leaving the station, no going back.’

His hands went up under my shirt and fondled and I pulled off my shirt over my head and he kissed me as I pushed his shirtup and shoved it off over his head. Then I went back to kissing him, both our hands running over our fronts and arms and chests. He fumbled for a minute, but then unlatched my bra and he moaned with pleasure and fondled my breasts, his gliding palm over my skin, heating me and exciting me.

“We have to take off our shoes so we can actually get all the way on the bed.”

“I will take off yers, if ye take off mine.”

I leaned to the side, putting my feet up. He pulled my shoes off and tossed them away. I twisted on his lap, laughing, my head hanging off the bed, and untied his boots while upside down.

He re-righted me onto his lap and pushed his boots off and peeled his socks off and we went back to kissing. I drew my hands up and down his abs, feeling the roundness of his biceps, the width and strength in his shoulders, but then I grew frantic with desire.

I fumbled with the buckle on his kilt, getting it unbuckled, and climbed off his lap to pull my skirt off. He shoved his kilt off and yes, he was naked under it and absolutely gorgeously built. I said, “Wow, that is... you are amazing.”

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