Page 25 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
“I suppose I will,” Amelie yawned, and closed her eyes, “Thank ye for bein’ with me…I feel safe with ye.” She had uttered the last words just before she drifted off to sleep.
* * *
It was the warm breath on the back of her neck that woke Amelie from the most comfortable sleep she had ever had.
Somehow during the night, she had turned and was now pressed with her back to Damien’s. His arm was wrapped around her waist tightly, and his palm was splayed across her belly—it felt right, and his other arm was her pillow.
A feeling of peace and comfort settled on her heart at being held so intimately. His body was warm, and his skin smelt fresh and clean, like river water.
As she shifted, Amelie’s face bloomed with red at the feel of his thick manhood against her bottom. It was hard and heavy against her, and when she even dared to shift, he groaned a deep rumble.
Despite the precarious position she was in, lying in the bed, Amelie had come to a realization: she wanted Damien. She was so comfortable with him and knew that he understood her, just as she understood him. Both of them knew how hard it was to survive, with the horrible cards that life had dealt them.
Her eyes flitted to the window where the pale rose-grey of dawn was coming through and fretted that it probably was best for her to leave Damien’s room for hers. Unwillingly, she began to pry herself from his hold, but Damien held her tight.
“Daenae ye move,” he warned huskily on the back of her head. “Stay right where ye are. Ye fit perfectly in me arms.”
“Only that?” Amelie teased.
His hand came down on her thigh, smartly. “Daenae test me, lassie. Be careful, ye’re playin’ with fire.”
Snickering, Amelie twisted to face him. “I daenae think we have much time alone. Ben might be wakin’ up soon.”
“Bollocks about Ben,” Damien snorted, while running his nose over the arch of her neck and shoulder. “Stay here with me.”
Reaching up, Amelie flitted her fingertips over the curve of his jaw, feeling the prickle of his beard on her touch. His eyes closed, and he nuzzled his face into her palm, and when his eyes opened, Amelie’s breath hitched at the intense passion she saw there.
Amelie saw past the impenetrable armor of coldness that he wore and saw emotions she had only glimpsed before. There was the heat of lust in his eyes, but under it, she saw a shimmer of vulnerability too.
Her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth as the realization that she was affecting him. “Damien…”
His groan was deep and rugged. “Gods above, what are ye doin’ to me, lass?” Damien’s hand grasped her hip tightly, and in the next moment, his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that spoke more than any words could.
When her lips parted to accept him, the kiss caught fire, with heat searing through her insides, and sealing her heart in a scintillating cage. His kiss deepened, giving Amelie a taste of the passion that she never knew she craved.
* * *
“I cannae express how ye enchant me,” Damien husked roughly as he lifted his head from the pillows. With an arm around her neck, he possessed her mouth once more. His kisses deepened and continued until Amelie was breathless, squirming, above him.
His length began to harden, as he was kissing the very woman who had haunted his dreams for almost every morning since he had met her. Damien had pictured her lips on his own body, in many places other than his lips, more than once, and felt that he had the chance to make his dreams a reality.
Amelie did not seem to mind as her hands gripped his shoulders and kissed back as hotly as she was kissed. Pleasure was sizzling though his body and flashes of taking her ran though his mind. Pulling his mouth from her, his dipped to her throat and suckled there, cursing softly under his breath.
“Ye’re stunnin’, Amelie.” With a nip on the sensitive skin at the hollow of her throat, he added. His knee inched up between her legs until she let out a gasp. He knew his leg had met her mound and grinned. With the material of her dress between them, he grasped her hip and rocked against her, knowing that she would feel blissful friction.
And he was right—Amelie’s head canted back, and her lips slipped open in a wordless cry. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he worked her into a high, but Damien wanted to share her pleasure. His member was hard and heavy in his breeches and he knew that if she so much as touched him there, he would erupt.
Leaning into her ear, he asked. “Is this enough lass, or do ye want me to touch ye?”
Her eyes peeled open. “T-touch me…there?”
“Aye,” he kissed her cheek. “It will feel so much more pleasurable, lass, I promise ye.”
She bit her lip then nodded and Damien kissed her again, licking his tongue even deeper into her mouth as he removed his leg and flicked his hand under her dress to find her core swollen, wet and dripping for him.
He slid his middle finger along her and smiled when she shivered and sucked her bottom lip inside his mouth. When he breached tightness with his fingers, he felt her gasp of pleasure and pride ran wild though his body. He kept kissing her while his fingers slid in and out of her tight sheath and hissed out a breath as she let him in deeper, taking his fingers to the knuckle.
With her leg over his, Damien kept kissing her while pumping her and then slid another finger inside. Gods above, how tight she would be when he entered her—how she would grip his engorged member and the pleasure he would feel from what he knew would be a scintillating joining.
