Page 68 of The Scot Who Loved Her

God, she loved the solidness of his body, the possessive, passionate way he held her. She sought to explore him everywhere and have him do the same. To let herself be discovered by him.

Olivia wrapped her arms around his shoulders, gently tugging at the ends of his hair, before exploring the wide, strong, corded breadth of his naked back. Some of the smoothness was marred by scars, likely from his time in the war, but maybe even more recent as it seemed her husband was involved in a position for the War Office that required his wonderful, strong body to be put in harm’s way. She gripped his upper arms, felt him flex beneath her touch, and she laughed softly into his mouth, knowing he’d done that just for her.

“Ye like that?” He flexed again.

“Yes,” she confessed. “I like all of you.”

“I do no’ know how I will last with all this teasing from ye, lass…”

“We have the rest of the night.”

He groaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking over hers in taunting little licks. A push and pull that she found thrilling. Olivia released his upper arms and gripped his shoulders, clinging to him. To think, not long ago, she was tossing punch on idiots, and now she was in the arms of the man she loved. Kissing him with as much passion and fervor as he showed her. Fortune had certainly smiled down on her.

“I need ye out of these clothes.” Malcolm’s words were hungry sounding.

And Olivia wanted the same thing. She stepped away from him and finished what she’d started. Her gown fell loose from her shoulders, and she shimmied it over her hips. As it pooled at her feet, she kicked it away.

Malcolm ran his fingers over the plush tops of her breasts, still pushed high by her corset, a contraption she hated.

“Let me,” her husband said.

Olivia nodded, turning in a slow circle. He stood behind her. Moved her hair away from the ties, over one of her shoulders, and while he plucked at the confining garment, he kissed the bare flesh of the back of her neck. A sigh of pleasure escaped her, and her toes curled into the thick rug. A moment later, the chilled air touched her skin as her chemise slithered to the floor, leaving her standing in her stockings and garters, and she kicked it away.

Still at her back, his naked chest pressed to her spine. And Olivia’s knees felt as if they would buckle until she snapped them straight as his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her already peaked nipples. Every whisper of his touch sent a shocking thrill rushing through her body.

“I want to taste every inch of ye.” He turned her back around and leaned down, nuzzling her breasts, his tongue flicking out over her nipples.

She had to grip onto his shoulders, clutching tightly to remain upright as he sucked a nipple. “Oh…” she moaned.

His hands held her firmly by the hips as he taunted her. She wanted so much more, needed it. She squirmed, rubbing her thighs together in anticipation, curled her fingers tighter into his muscles. If the sensations rushing over her limbs and through her blood with his mouth at her breasts multiplied, then Olivia couldn’t wait for them to be joined finally, body and soul. Heat flooded her cheeks at the carnal thoughts, but how could she help it when his tongue was swiping over her flesh and driving her mad? How she was still standing was a miracle.

“I love your breasts,” he murmured as he devoured her flesh.

His hands rounded over her bottom, squeezing, and then he lifted his mouth to hers, capturing her in a wild, sensual kiss that was… She didn’t know. It made her lose all sense. The hardness of his arousal throbbed urgently against her, and she inched closer, lifting on tiptoes to feel it against the apex of her thighs, right where she needed him.

Malcolm let out a low groan that rumbled throughout her body. She felt as if she were melting from the inside out with need.

And then his mouth was gone from her skin, leaving her feeling bereft momentarily at the loss. He knelt before her, starting to untie her garters.

“Leave them,” she said. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

He glanced up at her, stopping her breath altogether with the expression reflected in his eyes—complete and utter desire.

“God, I’m glad ye shot me.”

Olivia laughed then because he did sound so wholly relieved and grateful, and for anyone ever to say that… “I’m glad you were wrestling a boar.”

Malcolm chuckled, then, with his hands on her arse, tugged her close enough that she felt his breath fanning on her sex.

She tightened her hold on his shoulders, watching as he watched her. With a wink, he buried his face between her thighs, that wicked tongue of his stroking over the sensitive flesh. Fast, then slow. Swirling, licking, sucking. A finger slid into her body, caressing her from the inside, and then two, stretching her deliciously.

Olivia’s legs shook. At any moment, her knees would buckle. A whimper and then a deeper moan escaped her as she struggled to keep her balance in the wake of his delicious torment. And then she was leaning over him, his forehead pressed to her belly, holding her upright as his tongue drove her to madness. With one final stroke, her body broke apart, and she moaned as she clung to him, her legs shaking as though the earth beneath her quaked.

Malcolm stood, lifting her by her bottom, and on instinct, her legs circled his waist. She gasped at the feel of his bare abdomen against her wet, delicate core. The musky scent of her was on his mouth. He swept his hand into her hair and tugged her in hard for a kiss that made her crave to fall apart again.

He walked toward the bed and laid her out on the thick coverlet. Then he stood, eyes on her, as he unbuttoned his breeches the rest of the way, revealing the thick, turgid flesh of his arousal. He kicked his breeches off to join her discarded clothes. With his hands gently pressed against her knees, he opened her legs wide and climbed onto the bed, settling between her thighs. The hard length of his shaft slid against her folds, sending scorching delight rushing through her. His chest flush to hers, and his lips crashed on hers, demanding a heated kiss.

His hands were everywhere, her breasts, her buttocks, her thighs. The tip of his arousal probed at her entrance, and still, he hesitated. He’d said he’d never been with a virgin before, and she wondered if he was waiting for a signal from her.

---