Page 43 of When the Laird Claims
It was when he heard the catch in her voice as she called out his name that he knew she had reached that peak of pleasure.
He did not stop or change anything he was doing, silently urging her on as he felt her clench around his fingers. Her thighs,too, tightened against the sides of his head as that euphoria overwhelmed her. She began to tremble, harsh gasps leaving her lips and making her perfect breasts rise and fall in frantic heaves as she came.
Aye, lass, that’s right… if ye’re nae shakin’, I’m nae doin’ it properly.
As the tightness of her muscles began to relax, he slowed his movements so as not to put too much pressure on her sensitive bud. He was tender with his attentions, waiting until her breathing had begun to even out before he withdrew his fingers.
And when he was certain that the wave of pleasure had subsided, he turned his head to kiss the soft flesh of her inner thighs. She shuffled backward as he eased his body up from between her parted legs and kissed his way up her stomach. Her laughter warmed him as she all but tipped into his lap, the dynamic shifting. From there, he kissed between her breasts, pausing to draw a pert nipple into his mouth. He sucked, eliciting a fresh gasp from her mouth that did nothing to temper the ache of his manhood.
He kissed over her chest and up the column of her throat until he found her mouth again with a lazy, satisfied graze. She melted into him as if she barely had the strength left to sit up, and kissed him back in kind.
“Are you certain that wasyourreward?” she murmured as she pulled back a little, her blue eyes glassy with the residual effects of her bliss.
He smirked. “Aye, lass, I promise ye it was.”
His arms encircled her beautiful figure, savoring the warmth of her bare skin against his, knowing that no matter where she went or how far she was from his side, he would never forget the potency of this moment.
“If I’d kent I was just goin’ to get dirty again, I wouldnae have bothered with a bath,” he teased, brushing a lock of hair out of her pink-cheeked face.
She blushed more furiously. “I did not know that… you were going to get dirty again.”
“Ye could join me for a bath, if ye like?” he offered.
She swallowed. “I do not think that would be proper.”
He laughed at that, and after a second or two, she laughed with him. It was a ridiculous notion, but one that he strangely understood. There was a difference between being alone in the privacy of the gardens at night where there were shadows enough to hide them, and being together in the publicness of the keep where maids could gossip.Hewould not have minded either, but he respected her hesitation.
“Can we just… lie here for a while?” she asked.
He nodded and kissed her again. “Aye, but ye should put yer dress back on else ye’ll catch a chill.” He reached for thegarment, sorry that he would have to clothe her beautiful figure again. “Here, let me help ye.”
There proved to be an unusual intimacy in helping her to dress; one that conjured unbidden visions of a future in which she asked him to assist her with her stays or the fastenings on a gown for a gathering or cèilidh. He could imagine her standing in front of a looking glass, turning that elegant neck back to implore him.
He shook the thought as he pulled her dress back onto her body, for that was a future that could never be. Once the Earl was dealt with, she would go back to the life she had left before that bastard ever entered her existence. She would return to that dull, fragile English society that seemed to have such a stupid opinion about reputation and decorum. She would return to her father’s house with her sister, and her time in Scotland would be just a memory.
With that in his mind, he held her close to him and laid them both down on the grass, determined to make the most of her presence while he had it.
20
This is nice… More than nice.
Never before this very night would Victoria have ever thought that lying on the grass could be so relaxing. Growing up, her governess would have had a conniption at the thought of Victoria having grass stains on her dress, and yet here they were—tousled and disheveled.
She did not care at all that her dress was nearly soaked through from the sodden grass, or that Arran would need a second bath. Nor did she wish to think about how she could easily sleep right there beside him, all the way through until morning. It was the most at peace that she had felt inside of her own body in longer than she cared to truly think about, much less admit to.
“Perhaps we ought to have lessons like this every day,” she teased.
She knew that her arms were likely to fall off her body altogether if she were to have lessons like this that often. Besides, it was not as if the Laird was going to have that sort of free time to spend on the likes of her in the first place.
But he surprised her again, laughing softly before he rolled over to face her. He propped his head up with his hand as he nodded. “I daenae ken if ye could keep up or nae. We would have to get yer endurance bolstered first.”
Feeling emboldened by their dalliance, Victoria mirrored his body language as she faced him. He placed his free hand on the curve of her waist, almost as if he was encouraging her to stay with him. “I can think of a way or two that we might be able to accomplish such a goal as that.”
Arran’s ears turned red—so much so that she could see how flustered he was even in the silvery moonlight.
“As we have said before, this will have to come to an end sooner or later,” she said. “But I suppose that I do not see why we should deprive ourselves in the meantime when there is still so much to learn from one another.”
Arran laughed again; she was coming to like that sound far more than she truly should. “That is one way to put it. I shall give it some serious consideration.”
