Page 62 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
“Och, I didnae mean tae make ye feel sorry for me, lass.” A gentle, callused hand touched hers. It was only then that Lydia realized she was weeping, a soft, slow tear sliding down her face.
Donall’s hand moved, rose and cupped her chin to brush the tear away with a gentle thumb. Without thinking, Lydia tipped her head and leaned into his touch, head turning slightly as if to press a kiss to his palm before she realized what she was doing.
Time froze, both of them still as statues as their gazes locked. Lydia felt her heart beat thundering in her ears, pulse pounding as she realized that they were alone together, in the library where they had met so often and so few ever came.
It was impossible to say who moved first. Both of them surged out of their chairs at the same moment, bodies crashing together, then molding together as she tipped her gaze up and he bent his head down. Their lips met in a searing kiss, her mouth opening to his and his tongue sweeping inside, claiming her as his hands pressed her close.
She could feel his growing arousal, a match to the heat building inside her, like the warmth of mulled cider flowing through her blood, but richer and headier. Feeling greatly daring, she slid her hand down to press against him. Donall groaned. “Lydia…”
“Say you do not wish to do this, and I will leave.”
Donall’s breath hissed between his teeth. “Ye ken I cannae… I’ve scarcely wanted aught more fer nights…” He groaned again and dropped his head to her shoulder. “I cannae sleep without ye any more. ‘Tis almost as if ye’ve bewitched me…”
Lydia pressed herself against him. She knew it was folly, perhaps destined to end in heartbreak, but she had no more desire toturn away from him, from this moment, than he did. “I do not wish to be without you either…”
Donall’s hands clenched on her shoulders, his mouth claiming hers for another kiss before he pulled himself away with an oath. “The doors… anyone could…”
“I barred them when I heard your distress.” It was the truth, but Lydia was glad of her decision for other reasons now.
Donall shivered, then his arms were around her, one on the small of her back and guiding her while the other hand worked at undoing the laces of her blouse, and the ties of her skirt. The skirt fell quickly and Lydia stepped out of it, her own hands busy with tugging his shirt free of his kilt.
They stepped onto the thick, heavy rug before the fire, and Donall urged her down. “Lie down fer me…”
Lydia did as he asked, watching as he slid his shirt off and tossed it into a chair, before kneeling at her feet and circling her ankles with his hands. His hands were so large, the thumb and forefinger encircled her easily there, and Donall made a noise of appreciation. “So beautiful, so delicate… I want tae see all o’ ye…”
His hands glided up her legs, then under the skirt of her undergarment and began to push it upward. His movements were slow, reverent and sensuous all at once, like something out of poetry or a play. The feel of his hands sliding across her skin, the slow kiss of cooler air and the soft fur of the rug beneathher as her skin was exposed… all of it only increased the heat of desire that pooled low in her belly.
Donall’s hands slid higher, across her thighs and to her hips, lifting slightly to slide the garment past her buttocks. Lydia shivered as the cool air, and the soft warmth of the embers in the hearth, washed over her newly exposed sex.
Donall’s hands paused, thumbs stroking through the soft, fine hairs of her mound until she shifted restlessly under his touch, thighs parting slightly to give him better access. Then he continued upward, hands at her waist, stroking across her ribs before his thumbs stopped just below her breasts, then slid over them, circling the nipples before continuing their movement to finally remove her clothing entirely and set it aside.
The air of the library might be cool, but Donall’s gaze was anything but as he stared at her, desire darkening his emerald eyes to a deep forest green. The front of his kilt tented over his erection. Lydia reached for it, but he stayed her hand. “None o’ that, now…”
He bent to kiss her, his body covering hers, his stiffened manhood pressed against her thigh, separated from her by the cloth of his kilt. The skin of his chest pressed against her sensitive nipples, making her breath hitch as she returned his kiss. His fingers threaded through her hair, toying with the soft locks. “Beautiful…”
Donall shifted, his hand moving to cup her breast,thumb flicking across the nipple until she squirmed against him, beforedescending across her belly to cup her sex with his strong, callused palm. His fingers massaged her most intimate place, trailing through the fluids of her arousal. “Och, ye’re so ready fer me, so wet… dae ye ken what it daes tae a man, Lydia, tae have a woman like ye so ready an’ willin’ in his arms? I could watch ye fer hours…”
He kissed her again, then kissed her jaw, her throat, her shoulder and down her core, whispering soft, half-formed statements as he did so. “Kiss every inch o’ ye… touch ye till ye screamed me name… claim ye until neither o’ us could walk or speak, we were so spent with pleasure… I want all o’ tha…”
He paused, his breath ghosting over her sex, teasing the soft hairs until she was breathless, hips shifting restlessly under him as his hands took her thighs and parted them so he could lay between them. “I could drink ye in… fer candle-marks… could come just tastin’ ye…”
His hands held her thighs apart, his thumbs caressing the lips of her sex before he drew them apart as well, exposing her most intimate, secret place to his heated gaze. Donall blew slightly, and the cool air made her gasp and shiver on the rug, wringing his name from her with breathless need. “Donall…”
He gave her a wicked smile, then bent his head. Lydia bit her lip to muffle a cry as his tongue stroked over her, licking her from the cleft of her buttocks to the uppermost part of her sex. Her whole body sang with a sudden jolt of pleasure as his tongue lapped over her, exploring her inner folds and drinking up her arousal. “Donall .!”
“Aye… that’s it… call me name… I want tae hear ye…” Donall bent his head and licked her again, this time just the very top of her sex, making her quiver. “I want tae hear every sound ye make while I enjoy ye…”
He licked her again, then flicked his tongue over her before stroking deeper, probing until he found the sensitive nub of her pleasure center. Lydia put a hand against her mouth to stifle a cry as he laved his tongue across the tingling flesh, then suckled gently. Her whole body arched, hips pressing into his mouth as any coherent thought she had dissolved into a wordless plea ofmore.
She wanted to press closer, she wanted to pull away, she writhed, but Donall held her hips still as he licked and suckled, then slid his tongue lower and plunged it into her wet, aching channel. Lydia cried out again, trying to press closer as his tongue teased her innermost core.
More. She needed more. Her body was burning, pleasure and heat spiraling around her like flames, like she was a shooting star come to life, blazing and falling and rising on a wave of need such as she had never known before. She had thought she knew what to expect, after having made love before, but with Donall, everything felt new once again. “Donall… please…”
His tongue stroked over her, into her, around her, exploring every inch of her sex and her core, teasing her pleasure center until every part of her body was tingling, heat surging through her like waves of fire, everything coiled tight and quivering withthe need for release. Another thrust of his tongue took her higher, closer…
Donall pulled away, lifting his head, and Lydia gasped, whimpering as her release receded and left her aching and needing. “Donall, please…”
Somehow, he rolled to his knees, kneeling between her legs, kilted thighs under her own as he slid forward until the tip of his still-covered shaft was pressed against her. “Tell me what ye need.”
