Page 78 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
And she did, tumbling over the edge of sensation, her back arching as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her release tore from her throat in keening cries, “Och, god… och, god…” as her body convulsed and writhed beneath his touch, her inner muscles clenching around his fingers as ecstasy claimed her in a final, passionate squirt.
Ian held her tight through it, murmuring words of praise and encouragement in Gaelic as he watched her beautiful face twistwith the force of her climax, her dark ginger hair spread across the pillow like flames.
“That was…” Rhona began, then stopped, unable to find words for what had just happened to her.
“Only the start,” Ian said softly, his smile evident in his voice.
He was right. As her breathing steadied and awareness returned, she became conscious of his own arousal, solidly pressed against her hip, tension thrumming through his powerful frame.
“Show me,” she whispered, emboldened by the desire coursing through her still. “Show me how tae please ye.”
Ian’s groan was answer enough. But, with infinite patience, he guided her hands to explore him as he explored her, teaching her the geography of masculine desire. He watched in fascination as she discovered the differences between their bodies. Her touch made his breath hitch as her fingers explored his chest, trailing down towards his navel.
When she took him into her mouth, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as his responses encouraged her, Ian thought he might lose his mind entirely.
“Och, Rhona,” he groaned, his voice breaking with need. “Never… I’ve never felt anythin’ like this…”
His hands fisted in the bedclothes, his breath coming in harsh pants as she learned what made him tremble, his hips automatically thrusting toward her mouth.
The sight of her ginger hair spilling across his stomach, the feel of her innocent exploration turning bold and sure, the feel of her tongue against his manhood, nearly undid him.
Suddenly, she enclosed her lips tighter around him, pushing him deeper into her throat. “Rhona,” he gasped, his voice hoarse with need. “I cannae… ye’re goin’ tae…”
But she seemed to understand what was happening to him, what she was doing to him, and instead of pulling away, she redoubled her efforts with a determination that spoke of her generous heart. When release finally claimed him, it was with a force so powerful, it left him shaking, her name torn from his lips in worship.
She moved up to lie beside him, her cheeks flushed with mingling satisfaction and shy wonder at what she’d accomplished. Ian gathered her close, still trembling from the intensity of what she’d given him.
“That was…” he began, then stopped, unable to find words adequate to the gift she’d bestowed.
“Good?” she asked tenderly, uncertainty flickering in her blue eyes.
“Unsurpassed,” he said fiercely, rolling to face her fully. “Ye’re perfect.”
He kissed her then, deep and thoroughly, tasting himself on her lips and finding it strangely intimate. When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Ian gathered her close.
Rhona ducked her head against his chest, suddenly shy. “I had nay idea what I was daein’,” she admitted with a nervous laugh. “I was terrified somehow… I was hurtin’ ye!”
Ian chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Hurt me? Lass, I thought I might die from the pleasure of it.”
“Really?” She lifted her head to look at him, genuine curiosity mixing with lingering embarrassment. “Because at one point I thought maybe ye were in pain when ye made that… strangled groan.”
Ian’s grin was wicked. “That,m’eudail, was definitely nae pain.”
Me darling.
It slipped out of him like a declaration.
“Och.” Her entire face flushed pink in the moonlight. “Good. Because I liked it, the way ye… responded.”
“Did ye now?” Ian traced lazy patterns on her bare shoulder, marveling at the soft smoothness of her skin. “And here I was thinkin’ ye were just bein’ generous.”
“Well, that too,” she said with a small smile. “But seein’ how I affected ye… it affected me. Is that strange?”
“Nay,” Ian said candidly, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “’Tis honest. And yearepowerful, Rhona. Ye’ve brought me tae me knees more times than I care tae count.”
“Have I?” she asked with obvious delight.
“Aye. From the moment I saw ye in that dungeon, lookin’ at me like ye wanted tae murder me with naethin’ but yer bare hands.”
