Page 29 of Scot of Desire
Her breasts strained against the covering of the dressing gown, pert and dying to be touched by him as he looped one finger around her belt, holding her close. He angled their heads together, taking command and dominating her tongue in the kiss. She responded, letting him control, letting him move her body so that she was practically bent backward over the fire.
Dinnae stop…She pleaded in her mind as he kissed her.
The feeling of his lips against hers, the way his hand was now moving up her back, trailing his fingers across her body, was greater than she had ever imagined it would be. An ache pulsed between her legs. She dreamt of satisfaction, of knowing something more of Bran now that they had crossed this line.
She rubbed her thighs together, a little friction satisfying her need momentarily. He must have felt it, for he moaned into the kiss, the growl animalistic and possessive.
He pulled back a few inches, staring into her eyes. That look she had never seen before on his face – there was something fierce in those eyes, as possessive as that growl had been.
“Dinnae stop,” she begged.
With one firm pull, he tore off the belt from her body and she gasped in surprise.
“Dae ye think I can bear the thought of any other man touching ye?” he asked, his voice deep and gravelly. “It drives me mad,” he whispered against her neck, trailing his heated lips down her neck and to the curve of her collarbone. “It makes me blood run fast.” He slipped a hand beneath the dressing gown, his fingers firmly caressing the bare skin of her waist and hips.
She gripped the rim of the bathtub behind her, anchoring herself to it as she gasped and moaned at his touch.
“Hold on tight,” he urged.
“Wh-what?” she managed to stammer.
“Hold ontae that bath,” he urged again, suddenly dropping to his knees. “After this, I dinnae want any other man touching ye. Ever.”
The possessive jealousy made her wild, made her want him all the more. She looked down in incredulity as he flicked her dressing gown open, revealing her whole bare body. He slipped his hand around her thighs and separated her legs.
What are ye doing?
Yet she didn’t have the strength to speak. Her body was jittery and excited, just wanting him to continue what he was doing.
He set one of her thighs over his shoulder, making her grip all the more to the bath, then he bent toward her.
The first touch of a man Ilyssa knew was Bran’s lips. Now, he kissed the most sensitive part of her body. She threw her head back in amazement, gasping, her body responding at once. She arched her back, shocked at the sheer sensation of pleasure now erupting inside of her.
Bran grew bold with his tongue. It slipped down to her center, plunging inside of her in such a way as to mimic what else their bodies could be doing. One of Ilyssa’s hands slipped and fell in the water behind her, though neither of them stopped. She kept arching herself toward him as he claimed her with his touch, making her completely his own.
She reached down with her other hand, tangling her fingers in his hair, holding him to her. His other hand came up. It teased her for a second, the fingers playful and light across the inside of her thigh, then suddenly, with firm purpose, they slid toward her center and slipped inside of her.
He reached a part of her body she did not know it was possible to feel. She stared down at him in wonder, unable to catch her breath as he dominated her body, and then –
“Ilyssa?” Tad’s voice came from the corridor, heavy footsteps accompanying his voice. “Are ye in yer chamber?”
Bran leaned back as Ilyssa looked at him, wide eyed.
They both leapt back from one another in fear of discovery. Ilyssa splashed more water, gathering the dressing gown around her body as quickly as possible and Bran raced across the room. He hastened to stand by the door, wiping his mouth and leaning against the wall by the door as Ilyssa managed to hide her body from view. She nodded at Bran, but he waved at his own head, showing her silently that her hair was a mess after what they had done. She hadn’t even noticed pulling at it in their pleasure.
She reset it just as Bran opened the door.
“Ilyssa – ah, Bran.” Tad’s expression didn’t even darken in suspicion as he stepped into the room. “I’m glad ye’re both here. I need tae talk tae ye.”
Ilyssa nodded, unsure her voice would stay level. She exchanged a silent look with Bran, one of fear of discovery but they seemed to be safe. Despite the illicitness of what they had just shared, at a casual glance, there was nothing obvious to show they had done anything in this room, apart from the damp patches on the rug that Ilyssa now stood over in order to hide them from her brother.
“Have ye told her?” Tad asked.
“About the offer? A little,” Bran said by way of explanation.
“I am going tae make another offer tae Laird Gilroy this evening when he returns,” Tad said hurriedly to Ilyssa. “All being well, the betrothal will be broken then.”
“I pray so.” Ilyssa looked down into the bath, staring at the water and thinking what had just nearly happened between her and Bran.
