Page 39 of Draped in Plaid
Chapter Twelve
Moira
I inched slowly along the wall, toes stretching, hips shifting, trying to reach for Rory without any of the guards or our mad keeper noticing.
My husband must have sensed me, for he, too, shifted closer. His breathing was heavy. The heat of his body radiated toward me in sensual waves, covered me in a cocoon of warmth, undulated beneath my skin. What was happening? What was this feeling washing over me?
’Twas like a sensual euphoria. A rapture.
I bent my knee toward his, wanting to be closer, but I couldn’t move far, not with my hands shackled above me. But I was close. Close enough that our feet touched next, sending a zing of gasp inducing pleasure through me. Next, the outside of our hips made contact. Skin to delicious skin.
I closed my eyes, frissons of need lashing my insides. Touching him like this… so close yet so far, it was an enthralling tease.
“I’m so glad you found me,” I whispered. “I want to go home. I want to spend days and weeks alone with you in our chamber.”
“Love, I’d not have let ye go for the world. There was no question. I would have searched the end of the earth until the end of my days. But, damn am I glad it didna take that long. And your plan, that sounds wonderful.”
I sighed, wanting him to hold me, kiss me. Make love to me in every position for hours and hours on end.
All around us was the sounds of heavy breathing, moaning. From my periphery, I could see Logan and Emma making love. Shona and Ewan writhing against the wall. I wanted that, too.
I yanked at the shackles, not doing anything but scraping my skin against the metal. I winced, bit my lip to stifle a groan.
“I wish I could see your eyes,” I whispered. He was the only one left with a mask. Blinded. Tormented.
Rory jerked his head back and forth as if that would help lift the hood from his face, but it did no good.
“I want to touch you,” I said, sliding my toes up over his muscled calf. The hair of leg tickled the underside of my foot. “To kiss you. I need you.”
Rory let out a growl. “And ye will have me.”
Rory jerked suddenly, roughly. The muscles of his biceps, shoulders, chest, neck, abs, everywhere strained with power and force as he gripped the chain of the shackles and heaved forward, putting strain on the metal hooks. Again and again he threw all of his power into pulling against his restraints.
The wall behind him made a cracking sound, a terrible wrenching crunch. I looked over toward the scientist, expecting to see the end of his whip flying toward us like before, but he only stood there nodding, his hands casually linked behind his back, and then he was grabbing for a notebook and jotting something down. This was what he wanted from Rory. What he’d been waiting for.
What was all that business with Logan being the only one who he expected to see results from? That was a lie. From inception, he’d been expecting a reaction from all of us, and we were giving it to him.
Logan and Emma were making love. Shona and Ewan were whispering and in the throes of some passionate fantasy, and Rory—
The heat of his body crashed onto mine.
With a fisted hand, he yanked the hood from his head, and claimed my mouth in a heady kiss. More passionate than any we’d ever shared before. Hungry, carnal, his lips slid over mine. Tongue dove into my mouth, stroking, tangling. His fingers slid through my hair, tugging gently but forcibly until I surrendered fully to him.
Every hard muscle stretched along my body. His hands touched, slid, caressed, and massaged. Then he slapped my behind, the sting mingling with pleasure, and I cried out against his kiss, shuddering with rapture.
Rory flipped me around, my arms, still shackled above my head, crisscrossed one another. The velvet, hardness of his cock pressed to my ass, and his mouth latched onto my upper back as he slid kisses down my spine, then back again. His strong arm wrapped around my ribs, hauling me taut against him, his fingers plucking at my nipples.
I moaned, wholly surrendering to his touch, his passion.
I rolled my hips back, silently begging for him to take me, to slide inside me. To own me completely.
“No matter how many days or years go by, ye are still the one I want. The one I crave.” He slapped my ass cheek again, and I groaned, my eyes rolling back in my head.
Slick desire dripped down my thighs. His hand came up around my throat, his thumb toying with my lower lip. I dipped my head down, sucking on his finger, doing what I wanted to do with his cock. Twirling, nipping, sucking.
Behind me, Rory ground himself against me, every slide of his cock making me hotter, wetter. His sweet torment slowly drove me mad.
“Take me,” I demanded.
