Page 75 of The Highlander's Virgin Nun
Rosaline could feel Caelan’s member against her inner thigh. It throbbed, desperate to sink inside her. But Caelan did not thrust into her right away. He played with her bud for a moment longer and kissed her nipples. They hardened for him, and she felt tingles spread through her breasts—a feeling she was growing to love.
Suddenly, Caelan slid an arm underneath her lower back and gripped her hip. He lifted her gently and flipped her over so that her stomach lay on the slip-covered hay and her hips were bent over the edge. He wedged his knee between her legs, parting them, and Rosaline brought her forearms up by her chest to hold herself up. She felt nervous about this position, never having tried it before, but Caelan soon turned her attention back to pleasure.
Sitting back on his heels for a moment, Caelan gently slid a finger inside her from behind. The change in angle drove Rosaline wild, as entirely new sensations assaulted her. With his other hand, he stroked her bud, and soon she was dizzy with pleasure once again. Just as the wave was about to wash over her for a second time, his hands stopped.
They landed on her hips, and then Caelan thrust into her in one smooth motion. A moan escaped her lips, and her back arched. Caelan slammed in and out of her, gripping her hips for purchase. One hand slid up her back and fisted in her hair, tilting her neck to the side.
Rosaline reveled in his labored breathing and the little groans of pleasure he let out with each thrust. His grip on her hips tightened, and she relished the feeling of bringing him as much satisfaction as he gave her. She felt her pleasure build again, the ache between her legs tingling and throbbing as her climax neared.
Caelan let out a guttural groan and thrust deeper inside her. The noise pushed Rosaline over the edge, and she climaxed with him, her walls rippling around him and pulling him in deeper. They clung to each other as they rode the waves of pleasure, before collapsing on their backs.
“Wow,” Rosaline breathed, in shock at how wonderful it had been.
“Aye, I think that was our best yet,” Caelan agreed. He brushed his hair from his face, which was not damp with sweat despite the exertion.
“Well, we’ll have to find a way to outperform ourselves every time.”
Caelan laughed. “For ye, I think I’ll find a way.”
He reached to his side and managed to grab Rosaline’s dress. He pulled it gently over her body.
“Dinnae get up—it’s just in case ye get cold.”
Rosaline pulled the fabric over her skin to shield herself from the cold night air. She sensed that once the thrill and pleasure subsided, she might get chilly fast. It was a thoughtful gesture.
“What if someone saw us sneakin’ out?” She giggled.
“Then they will ken we have a happy marriage full of desire and love,” Caelan replied, like a town crier announcing good news.
Rosaline laughed, but she had heard the word they had yet to say to one another. She had thought it the moment she had heard of his injury. And she hadfeltit when she had seen him pale and sweaty in that bed. It had almost left her lips when he had awoken, spurred on by the possibility that she would not get a chance to say it. But she had not been brave enough.
Over the past few weeks, the feeling had only grown, and now she could not wait a moment longer to voice it, for fear that it might burst out of her.
“I love ye.”
But the words had not come out of her mouth. She turned to Caelan only to find him looking into her eyes, a smile on his lips.
“I love ye too,” she murmured.
She felt great relief in having finally said it out loud, but it was followed almost by shock.
He had said it too, and first.
Caelan loved her. Little old Rosaline, the nuns’ slave, was loved by a handsome, charming laird. She could hardly believe her luck.
The End?
