Page 44 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
“Patience,” he whispered.
His mouth trailed along her jaw, then back down her throat to her chest. His fingertips pursued his lips, the light friction making her skin tingle, leaving behind a feverish heat that rushed in every direction. Her entire body was coming to life,lighting beacons of pleasure, warning the parts of her that had not yet had their awakening that something was approaching.
With the same ease she might rip off a piece of bread in the morning, Doughall took the collar of her nightdress in his warrior’s hands… and tore it.
A gasp escaped her lips. “That… isnae mine.”
“Whose is it?” He held her gaze and continued to tear the fabric all the way to the hem.
“It was… in the armoire.”
“Then it’s mine to do with as I please,” he said with a dark laugh.
She was no longer sure if he meant the nightdress or her, nor did she mind which he wished to do with as he pleased. She was at his mercy, and, despite his words and actions, she had never felt safer.
Careful not to touch her bare skin, Doughall peeled back the torn nightdress, exposing her to the warmth that radiated from the crackling fire.
Considering that her plan for the night had been to go to bed and forget that she had ever been forced into a betrothal by her brother, she had not had any reason to think about wearing undergarments. As such, there was nothing between her bareskin and his eyes, which took her in with such ravenous intensity that it made her wish she could hide herself from him.
It took every speck of willpower she possessed not to remove her hands from the edge of the desk and cover herself. Not because she was ashamed, but because that would have been the ‘proper’ thing to do.
“Aye, a fine…finewife,” he growled, returning his kiss to her chest.
All hope of breathing normally abandoned her lungs as his lips explored, tracing a searing line across to her breast, while his hand came up to grasp the other. She threw her head back and pushed her chest forward, a shudder racking her body as his mouth closed over her erect nipple.
“Oh… Oh, Doughall…” she gasped as he sucked, the pull of his mouth unleashing a fizzing bolt of pure bliss that ricocheted to the center of her.
Without realizing it, she raised her hand to run her fingers through his hair.
He pulled back sharply, taking her by the wrist and pinning her hand back to the edge of the desk. She gripped the wood instinctively, having no time to anticipate the punishment for her disobedience. It came a half-second later as he dropped to his knees and bit the inside of her thigh, eliciting a fierce jolt of pleasure and pain that melted her desire.
She cried out at the thrill of it, almost tempted to touch him again just to see what he would do.
But, to her surprise, he did not come back up to draw her nipple into his mouth again. He stayed where he was, kneeling between her thighs, his tongue soothing the spot he had bitten. A soft kiss to that same spot stirred an ache within her very core, wild and glorious and utterly foreign to her.
He’s explorin’, I’m discoverin’.
And, clearly, he was a guide who knew the territory well.
He kissed up the inside of her thigh, his hands running over the tops of them, gripping that pliant flesh just hard enough for it to feel pleasurable. If anything, she wanted him to grip it harder, like he meant it.
As he got closer to the apex of her thighs, her breath caught in her throat.
She shivered as he deliberately blew on that secret part of her, sending her body into a fresh frenzy of anticipation. For what, precisely? She did not know, but that was part of the excitement.
“Have ye been patient?” he asked.
She nodded eagerly, gripping the edge of the desk with all her might.
“I dinnae think ye have.”
That breath in her throat transformed into a cry as his tongue tasted her for the first time. A quick, teasing stroke across a part of her that she had not known existed—a small bonfire between her thighs that he had just doused in the purest liquor. A bundle of nerves, now sparking so wildly that not a single part of her could escape the burn.
She tilted her hips up, needing him to do that again before she lost her mind.
But he sat back on his haunches and glanced up at her, making her wait. Even on his knees, he had all the power, all the control. And she was content to give it to him if he would just release the tension that was building within her, putting her out of her wondrous misery.
“Have ye been patient?” he repeated.
