Page 56 of When a Highlander Loses His Heart
In a flash, he stripped to nothing but the body God had forged of steel. Her mouth went dry when she glimpsed all of him, and a bit of apprehension stole into her chest at how big he was. She barely resisted the urge to scramble away. He must have seen her fear, because he gently took her hand and guided it first to his chest, then over slab after slab of muscle, down, down to what made him a man.
He gently curled her fingers around him, the hotness of his skin shocking her. “Dunnae fash yerself, Isobel. God made yer body to fit with mine.” His voice was husky, the tone taut.
She nodded, gazing down at where she held him. With care, she moved her hand down the length of him, marveling at the way he hissed and seemed to grow larger when she did. “Ye like that?” she asked in surprise.
“I love it,” he assured her, “but if ye do that too much, I’ll nae be able to stop my response.”
She grinned, pleased to discover she had some power over this man, this warrior. “Show me,” she challenged.
“I will,” he panted, putting his hand over hers to stop, she supposed, the motion she had done again. “But later,mo maise. First, I will make ye mine in body.”
She cocked her head, feeling bold. “Ye can try.”
His hands came underneath her buttocks, hoisted her up off her feet, deftly spreading her legs wide, and slid her onto his waist, leaving her no choice but to wrap her arms and legs around his neck and torso. He kissed her mouth once more. “I welcome the challenge.”
Before she could calm her racing pulse to reply, he had her on her back on the bed and was looming over her. She’d never felt more exposed, excited, and scared in her life. As he lowered his body toward hers, she thought he would kiss her on the mouth again, but he brushed his lips against her neck, causing gooseflesh to race across her body. He feathered slow kisses down her neck to her right breast, and when he flicked his tongue out and licked her bud, she had to dig her nails into the blanket to keep from screaming with pleasure.
Her breasts immediately grew heavy, and the rush of heat between her legs shocked her. As he cupped her breast and took her nipple into his mouth and suckled, every muscle in her lower belly squeezed tight. This was sinful, she was sure, but she was equally sure she didn’t care. He circled his tongue around and around her sensitive flesh until she thought she would go mad with the aching sensations building within her. When he started to pull away, she delved her hands into his hair to keep him there.
A deep chuckle rumbled from him. “I’m glad ye like this, but it is only the beginning.”
“Then I dunnae believe I can bear the middle and the end,” she said, her voice not sounding like her own at all. It was huskier than she had ever heard it.
He moved to her other breast, circled the bud several times, and said, “Ye will do more than bear it,” he promised and then fell silent as he gave the same attention to her left breast that he had given to her right. When he was finished, she was panting and her heart was pounding.
As he rose to his knees and gazed down at her, she thought he would now make her his, and her fear trickled in once more. She clenched her teeth, determined not to show it. Then tenderness filled his eyes, and he traced a finger over her jaw. Silently, he moved his hands to her legs and braced them against her thighs.
“Open yer legs for me, Isobel.”
She immediately complied to the gentle request, though her heart now raced from nervousness about the pain to come. He moved to a kneeling position between her legs, and as he looked down at her, he traced the delicate skin of her inner thighs. “I vow to ye, Isobel, I will nae join with ye until I’m certain ye’re ready. Ye dunnae need fear. The hurt will nae compare to the pleasure.” He placed a hand over her thudding heart. “Do ye trust me?”
She realized with a start that, in this, she did. Completely.
Quickly, she nodded. He smiled and slid his hand down her belly, making her quiver, and then down farther to directly between her legs. Suddenly, he lowered his head, and when his fingers gently separated the flesh of her womanhood, she tensed and then quickly tried to squeeze her thighs shut.
His hands stopped her movement. “Nay, Isobel. I wish only to give to ye before I take.” And with those words, his hands trailed back to her womanhood and his fingers once again explored her body in soft, gentle touches.
The fear inside of her started to ease, but a new tension built as his fingers pressed on her flesh, which felt swollen and throbbing. His touch was pure pleasure as he moved his fingers back and forth and then began slow circles. The throbbing between her legs shifted to her belly and her heart, and then seemed to spread to every part of her body. “What are ye doing to me?” she demanded on a pant.
In answer, his fingers disappeared and his tongue traced a hot, searing path over the most sensitive part of her womanhood. She could not keep her scream of pleasure contained. “Graham!” she cried, her hips bucking upward involuntarily. His hands came under her buttocks, as his tongue moved quickly over her flesh, first in long, wicked strokes and then in luscious circles that made her sure she would splinter.
The pressure within her built so fast and hard that she called his name again and again, forgetting her vow to be silent. She pressed her body closer to his mouth as he moved his tongue in a frenzy and kneaded the flesh of her bottom. All at once, every taut muscle clenched even tighter, and a fiery sensation exploded within her, causing wave after pulsing wave to roll through her. Just as she felt as if her body was floating, he spread her thighs wider, came up, kissed her reverently on the mouth, and said, “Now ye are ready.”
Before she could agree or have time to become fearful again, he plunged into her in a swift yet gentle motion. The pain was immediate and caused her to gasp and shove against his chest. The demand for him to cease was on her tongue, but he stilled on his own, his arms braced on either side of her. The tension in his face, the tautness of his arms, told her that he was battling with his own desire to move in order to hold perfectly still for her. A rush of gratitude and tenderness filled her, and she bit her lip on her demand for release.
Tentatively, she nodded to him. “Slowly at first, aye?”
He jerked his head in a nod and moved his hips very slowly. She felt as if she were being stretched to near tearing, but then something shifted. The pain eased, and the slide of his body within her began to feel good. Her belly started to tingle, and her muscles tightened once more as passion inched through her veins, and desire flooded her body again. She pushed her hips toward him, meeting his next movement.
“Graham!” she cried out, caught in a wave of ecstasy. She struggled to quiet herself, but she could not. “I’m sorry,” she moaned, “but it feels so good!”
Never had a joining been like this for him. Graham groaned with desire and the flood of tenderness he felt for his wife as she cried out her apology. He couldn’t order his thoughts well enough to consider why she was offering apologies for being passionate. Later. He’d ask her later. She was heaven. She was so hot and tight around him, so fragile yet passionate. But it was her honest, incredible response to his body that was pushing him toward the peak faster than he had intended.
He tried to control himself, but it was harder than anything he had ever experienced in his life. Every instinct inside him clamored to claim her completely, but he feared he would hurt her or scare her. Sweat dampened his brow, and his muscles bunched and flexed as he fought against himself to slow down and set a tender, gentler pace. Yet every time he slid into her liquid fire, he had to grit his teeth against the savage need to increase his speed.
Desire burned within him and mounted with every movement until a guttural cry ripped from his chest. Her eyes flew open, and she stared into his face. Could she see what she did to him? He felt more exposed than he had ever felt in his life. Isobel was already making him weak. Yet in this moment, he could not care.
Her hand came to his cheek. “Relinquish yer control, Graham. Take me. Take me as ye wish. I vow ye will nae hurt me. God made me for ye, just as ye vowed.”
