Page 17 of Kilty Until Proven Innocent
When Brigit surgedup on her toes, Drummond lowered his lips to meet hers. They crashed together joyfully and he lifted her closer.
God’s Wounds, kissing Brigit would never get old, would it? He hoped to hell it wouldn’t.
Careful. Ye’re no’ thinking of a future together, are ye?
Except…mayhap he was. Drum knew he shouldn’t, especially with the suspicion hanging over his head, but…he was.
He wanted her. Not just now, not just tonight, but…
Nay, dinnae think it. Brigit was just a bit of fun, someone to slake yer lust.
Until she wasn’t.
With a little whimper, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down, pulling him closer. He knew her. He knew her signs. He knew how much shewanted to finish what they’d started that morning in the corridor.
And he wanted it too.
Groaning low in his throat, Drum gave in to temptation and lifted her again, turning to hoist her arse up onto his desk. She went willingly, excitedly, wriggling a little to push herself back.
Their lips clung together. Her hands pawed at his shirt, yanking at the cords at his throat, and Drum felt her lips curl against his. Aye, she wanted this and he was ready for her. Beneath his kilt, his cock straightened, yearning for her softness.
“Brigit,” he groaned, moving his lips to her jaw, her cheek, her earlobe, as his hands cupped and fondled. “Ye’re certain?”
She tipped her head back, even as her hands went to the ties of her bodice, loosening them for him. “When have ye—oh Saints be praised, right there!”
Drum smiled as he nibbled at her sensitive skin again and she moaned.
“I’m always ready for ye, love.”
Love.
She’d called him that for ages, but did she call everyone that? Was he…special to her?
When she moved her hands back to his shoulders, he took that as an invitation, and reached for the sides of her bodice. ‘Twas short work to reach inside, to cup one palm around her tit and lift it out.
Aye.
She moaned as he brushed his thumb across her nipple and the sound went right to his cock.
He knew her. He knew her body, and this? This wasperfection. “Ye like that, eh lass?” he murmured,lowering his mouth to her tit as he gently freed the other. Arching backward, she offered them both to him, and he wasn’t going to ignore such a gift.
“Christ, Brigit, ye’re perfect.” His tongue teased her. “Look at ye, on display for me. Like a feast.”
It was the truth. With her tits spilling out the top of her gown, her hair falling loose from her braid, she looked like one of those nymphs the court painters loved so much.
Without urging, she eased herself back to her elbows, thrusting her breasts up to his touch, and he groaned again at the sight.
Perfect. Perfectly wanton, just for him.
Even as he leaned forward to feast—to lick, to suckle, to tease those large pink nipples—he reached for the front of his kilt, squeezing his cock through the wool.Soon soon soon. Soon he’d have a release, but he needed to feelherpleasure first.
One last squeeze, then he moved his hands to her skirts, pushing them up her legs. Her thighs parted, booted feet dangling above the floor of his office, skin already prickling with anticipation.
They’d been in this position before. How many times had they fooked here on this desk? A dozen? More? Just last week…
But today, things felt different. Mayhap ‘twas the hope he was feeling after a sennight of despair, knowing he might be able to solve this mystery. Or mayhap ‘twas the knowledge that he and Brigit worked well together.
Or mayhap ‘twas the fact that he genuinely enjoyed spending time with her. She made him laugh, and that was important.
