Page 49 of My Scot, My Surrender
“Brandt,” she whispered, tugging at his hair, wanting to push him away and grasp him to her at the same time.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
His lips scorched her as he drew its rigid tip into his mouth, dampening the linen to wet, near transparency once more. His tongue raked over her nipple before he took it between his teeth with just enough pressure to make her arch her back. Crying out in mindless pleasure, Sorcha gripped his shoulders and tipped back her head, pushing her chest closer to him, only wanting more. The sight of him feasting on her body nearly made her faint.
“This is indecent.”
He lifted his head to grin at her. “The only indecent thing is the depth of my hunger for you. I want to kiss every inch of these”—his voice was a rough rasp as he dropped a kiss to the peaks of both aching nipples protruding through her shift—“and touch every last inch of this beautiful body until you scream with bliss.” He watched her, the devil in his slumberous eyes, as his erotic words seduced her as effectively as his mouth did. “And you’re going to let me.”
“Am I?” she gasped.
“Yes, you are. I’m your devoted slave, remember?” He flicked her taut, aching nipple with his tongue, the coarse graze of it beneath the dampened linen making her senses dilate. “The question is, what doyouwant, my lady?”
“I want…I want…” She wanted his kisses where it ached the most. She trailed off, biting her lip in mortification. “I can’t.”
He bit gently on the underside of her breast, his fingers pinching its tip. “Yes, you can. Tell me what it is you want.”
Damp heat gathered between her thighs at the unconscionable images flooding her brain. What she wanted was this man, body and soul. She wanted all the pleasure that was in his power to give her. She wanted him to soothe where the fires blazed the hottest. The heart of her throbbed almost violently as he held her eyes, waiting.
Sorcha wanted nothing more than to be honest with him. To be honest with herself, bugger propriety and modesty. Blushing furiously, she gave him her answer. “I want you to kiss me everywhere.”
Brandt grinned and licked his lips like a man about to sit down for a banquet. “NowthatI can do.”
And itwasa banquet. He gorged himself on her, leaving every part of her stroked, bitten, and suckled as he inched his way down her quivering abdomen. Sorcha felt like a river nymph, lying there in the sun, with her own adoring paramour serving her every need.
“May I?” he asked, his fingers reaching down to bunch around the hem of her shift. His knuckles grazed the bare skin of her thigh, and she couldn’t breathe. She nodded, her throat tight. What she needed covered was above, not below.
Slowly Brandt pulled upward, and she felt the fabric slide until cool air chased through the curls at the junction of her thighs. His tongue dipped into the hollow of her navel, and she nearly came off the rock at the lush feel of his mouth on her bare skin. It almost made her want to tear off her shift, fears be damned. But then she forgot her thoughts as he circled the shallow indent and trailed lower, sending bolts of shivery warmth panning out wide. Reaching for his hard shoulders and tugging his shirt upward, she kneaded his muscles, splaying her hands over the hard, masculine planes of him.
Brandt shifted out of the reach of her greedy hands, and she held her breath as his knuckles drifted over her hips, gently brushing the raven thatch between them. His touch was sinful. Divine. Some tangle between the two.
“You’re so beautiful, Sorcha,” he whispered, his hand grazing her again. This time, lower. A wild gasp left her mouth. Her world spun into blinding sensation at the fire his fingers left in their wake, stroking and seeking entry.
“Easy,” he murmured when she clenched her thighs together. “You’re safe with me.”
Sorcha knew it was true, and slowly, let the rigidity out of her legs. Without hesitation, his fingers slid to the burning heat of her. She made a soft sound of protest, embarrassed to feel how damp she was there, but Brandt only murmured his satisfaction.
“You’re perfect,” he said, watching her intently as she felt the exquisite pressure of his finger glide into her. Her body felt like it was being pulled in different directions as wild currents coursed through her, centering at that one pulsing place where all her nerve endings seemed to gather. Instinctively, Sorcha curled her hips upward, wanting more, needing to be closer to him.
With every push of his finger, he stroked deeper into her, his thumb grazing over the small, sensitive pearl at her entrance. The pressure grew deliciously as another finger joined the first, stretching her, making her moan, but then he moved away, taking his clever fingers with him, and Sorcha whimpered her frustration.
“Brandt.”
He laughed quietly, his breath tickling her skin. “Patience, my fierce lass.”
Levering himself over her body again, his mouth moved down her overheated legs, finding sensitive spots behind her bared knee and inside the arch of her ankle. The pleasure he had stoked earlier seemed to turn into something more languid as he took his time crawling back up her legs, kissing every inch of her skin.
Basking in the sun, she gloried in it. Reveled in the sensation of being thoroughly ravished. But when Brandt’s fingers slid between her wantonly spread thighs, his wicked tongue traveling in their wake, it made all the lethargy instantly depart her limbs. A burst of intense fervor built as he again parted the sensitive, slick folds of her body.
“You’re so hot, so wet for me, Sorcha.”
A deep flush suffused her at the raw need in his voice, and then she lost all capability for thought as he set his mouth to her with a strangled growl.
“Wait, what are you doing?” she gasped, pushing up onto her elbows. The lushly erotic vision of him kneeling between her legs was too much. She closed her eyes weakly. “Brandt, that can’t be…decent.”
He drew back, though just far enough to speak. “I believe I told you every last inch. You’re not going to deny me, are you?” He lifted her ankles to his shoulders and Sorcha nearly expired on the spot when he bit her inner thigh. “And any shred of decency I possessed left me the moment I saw you splashing in this river like a naughty sprite.” He grinned, his eyes turning mischievous. “Suffice it to say, I am thoroughlyinflamedat this glorious, luscious display of skin, and as your devoted slave, I endeavor only to please my mistress.”
Their teasing banter from earlier…come back to deliciously torment her.
