Page 110 of Lochlan

I throw my head back, laughing at this captivating woman. “Does that mean you want the rougher side of Lochlan, instead of the refined Scottish gentleman?”

She nods with an unmistakable gleam of lust in her eyes. “Before we play, put the brooch back in your pocket for safekeeping.”

I take the wee bit of metal, drop it into my jacket pocket, then stand, pulling her up with me.

“Then it’s time we find your limits,” I say, scooping her up on to my shoulder. I have my hand on her plump, round arse to better balance her body while I navigate the steps down to the main deck.

CHAPTER46

ROUGH TRADE

LOCHLAN

We enter through the salon, veering off toward the hallway to the master bedroom. One advantage of a huge luxury boat is a full-size cabin big enough for a few people to romp in without restriction.

Kenzie’s laughing when I drop her on her back. She’s nestled among the gray pillows of the king-size bed, her dark hair splayed out around her.

I make a quick call to the galley to say it will be hours until we eat. They assure me a meal will be provided whenever I wish. I ask them one more favor: to fetch the bucket of champagne and glasses and leave them outside the master cabin. Within minutes, we hear a discreet knock at the door. When I pull the knob to retrieve the delivery, the steward has vanished. I place the champagne and glasses on the table. One wall of the cabin is a mirror, to give the illusion of a much bigger space. My back is to the bed, but I spy Kenzie’s reflection. She’s leaning on her elbow, waiting for our sex adventure to begin. A toast to this night will have to wait until much later. I change character, shift to face her, and shrug off my jacket.

“Take your dress off, lass, you’ll not get your supper until I’m satisfied.” She wants to play with the rough Scot, then she’ll have him tonight.

She scrambles to her knees, watching me as she pulls her sundress over her head. She’s got no bra on and I’m looking at a sight that’s been haunting my dreams for months. “Get those panties off too. I want to see everything.”

She shimmies out of a slip of pink lace, dropping them next to her dress, then sits back on her knees. There’s a wee bit of defiance behind those brown eyes, or is there fear too?

I don’t wait for her to think. I plunge my hand into her hair to guide her mouth to mine. Our kiss is a fierce hunger that consumes both of us, but her wanting to push limits has me wondering if I should. This will be the first time we’ve played this hard; all the other times were a warm-up for tonight.

I palm her heavy breast, rolling her nipple while I listen to her soft whimpers that fuel my already growing need to have her body. My hand skims over her waist until it lands on the curve of her hip. She thrusts forward, trying to rub against my crotch, signaling that she wants more, tempting me to abandon my needs for hers. My hard cock has been fighting to get out since I threw her on the bed. I won’t allow her to tease me; I’m in control.

My hand drops to push her legs apart so my fingers can play inside her pussy. My aim is not to hurt her, but I’m not gentle either when I push three fingers inside her. She stops our kiss to gasp, her lips falling to my shoulder as I work her. God, she’s so fucking wet for this to happen, for me to take her when I’m ready, and I will, the way I want her.

“Are you willing to submit to my wishes, gaol?” I say, pushing my fingers further into her sex. “I warn you. I won’t be easy; you’ll have to curb that rebellious streak you’re fond of relying on. It won’t serve you tonight.” Her head lolls back and she locks her gaze with mine.

“I’ll do whatever you desire, goal,” she purrs, mimicking my crude accent. “I want to play with that rough, sexy asshole I met who wanted to take dirty pictures of me.”

It takes the fortitude of a saint to hide my amusement with a stone face, but I manage the task so I don’t break the moment, but she’ll pay for that bit of defiance. I continue to fuck her with my fingers while her breath heaves. She holds onto my shoulders, steadying herself as the pace of my fingers increases, her pussy clenching my digits.

I’m pushing harder, her moans louder as her body vibrates. “Are you ready, lass? Can you come now? Can you do it on my fingers?” I whisper close to her ear.

“I’m almost there… so close, oh God, so close,” is her breathy reply.

I move her away from my chest to create a bit of distance as her hands fall to my hips. My hand is steady at her shoulder, fingers thrusting upward inside her pussy. Her head lolls, hair in her face, eyes closed, attuned to her body’s reaction to my movements. Her chest heaves, her panting rapid; in moments, it will be a scream as she surrenders to her release. My forearm muscles tighten, my action more deliberate as I guide her to the moment. She’s talking a string of nonsense I don’t understand other than my name, which creeps in among the words. I feel her body tense as she grabs onto my shoulders, but they fall away when I jerk my fingers out, robbing her of an orgasm.

Surprise widens her eyes when I casually use her thigh to wipe my hand, signaling that I’m done. I cup my hand under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Not yet. You’ll come when I say.” My hand nudges her back, and she falls on her bum, looking up at me.

“You’re going to do the bastard move and leave me like this? You need to finish.”

She’s not lying. She needs to release now. Her body is quaking with unresolved frustration. She looks lovely in her distress, hungry for retaliation with no outlet until something shifts in her thoughts. Her legs part and she drops her hand to her pussy to finish what I started. Her eyes hot with determination, I think she might defy me… or maybe it’s a test.

“No, lass. I said it’s not time for you to enjoy that pleasure. Drop your hand.”

I turn away to watch her reflection, curious to see if she still wants to play. She stares at my back, calculating. Kenzie doesn’t quit once she decides; her stubbornness won’t allow it. Her hand falls to her side, but not without a silent promise that she’ll win this contest.

The chair I take faces the bed, which gives me the chance to study her as I open the top button of my shirt, then remove the cufflinks to roll up my sleeves. I chuck my chin toward the far side of the room. “The drinks cabinet is over there. Pour me a whiskey and bring the bottle.”

She slides off the bed without hesitation, giving me a long glimpse of her perfect arse. She locates the cabinet, pulling out what she needs, then turns with the bottle and two glasses cradled to her chest.

“The drink is only for me,” I say.

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