I knew he was afraid of going further. I knew he was holding back. And although I appreciated it, right now there was a wild fire inside of me that only he could control.
“I want more,” I found myself whispering against his mouth, and broke away to pant. My face felt warm and I knew my cheeks were red, blood rushing under the skin as my arousal rose.
He didn’t speak but I felt his hand on my hip tighten, felt him push the edge of my shirt up slightly, his thumb brushing along the bare skin exposed. For a second, I was self-conscious and tried to rise, but as if he sensed it, he leaned in and kissed me passionately, deeply, really pushing his tongue into my mouth and controlling the situation.
I liked that because it took away the control I would have needed to show my pleasure, to go for what I wanted most… how far I wanted to go.
And I didn’t know how far I wanted to go, but I wanted to take this where it would go and stop naturally.
When I didn’t stop him from touching my bare flesh, he pushed my shirt up more and leaned his upper body against mine so I was forced to recline back on the chair, his huge chest covering me and blocking out everything else.
His touches and kisses were soft at first, but when I curled my hands around his shoulders, dug my nails into his flesh, he grunted and started kissing me harder, faster, his passion rising, his masculine scent surrounding me.
When he broke the kiss, I whimpered, barely able to keep my eyes open, my breasts feeling heavy and full, my nipples tight and pressing against the thin material of my shirt. I wanted his body pressed to mine once more, wanted his lips on mine, his hands touching more of my body.
I never wanted this high to end.
“The look on yer face,” he murmured, and kissed me once more, long and slow, sucking on my tongue for a second before pulling back again.
He looked down at where his hand was on my waist, and I followed his line of vision to see my shirt was now pushed fully up my body and rested right below my breasts. I felt a flush move through me as the light from the setting sun showed off all the scars that littered my belly, the raised white lines that dissected my flesh in startling clarity. Before I could push my shirt down, Odhran was leaning in and brushing his lips along those marks.
He kissed every single scar on my belly, whispered how beautiful I was, how perfect and special I was. Gaelic followed in deep, gruff words that had me relaxing against the chair once more so he could explore me with his mouth.
I moaned softly when he dragged his tongue around my belly button before gently dipping it inside, eliciting another needy sound from me.
He lifted just his eyes so he was staring at me, letting me watch as he continued to drag his tongue around my navel once more before going lower. Never breaking eye contact, he had his fingers at the waistband of my leggings, pausing. He was silently asking for my consent.
I licked my lips and nodded, not sure what I was doing, but knowing I didn’t want to stop.
Odhran made me feel so special, so beautiful. He didn’t see me as his mate that was scarred. He just saw me as his.
“Is this okay?” He murmured the question while he slowly pulled my pants down, still watching me, his movements slow.
I nodded again and lifted my body half up so he could pull my panties and leggings over my hips and down my thighs. I curled my fingers against the armrests of the chair, my nails digging into the buttery soft leather.
Once I was bare from the waist down, Odhran stared at me for long seconds.
“So gorgeous.” He looked down at my waist then back into my eyes. “I want tae really look at ye, lass.”
I knew what he was asking. The fact he wanted my consent for everything eased me even more, had any anxiety fading and only need filling me.
He was making these deep, wolf-like growls, and couldn’t close his mouth fully as his canines pressed to his lower lip. And then he was looking down between my thighs, my legs spread wide enough to accommodate his body fitted between them. The air seemed chillier now that his entire focus was trained on the most intimate part of me.
He spoke something deep and low and unintelligible, then lifted his hand and ran it over his mouth, his gaze never leaving that part of me.
“Foirf.” That lone word was a rumbled, muffled sound behind his hand. He slowly lowered his palm to drag his tongue over his lips. “Yer’re so pretty here.” He lifted his gaze and stared into my eyes as he slipped one hand down my inner thigh to stop right where my leg and pussy met. “Tha mo ghion ort.”
“I don’t know what you’re saying, but don’t stop,” I gasped. “Even if you’re telling me the weather… don’t stop.” The feel of his hands on my thighs had a little sound of awareness leaving me. He slowly ran his palms up and down my legs as he stared between my thighs once more.
“Will ye let me taste ye, Larkin?”
I bit my lip and felt my eyes widen. He wanted his mouth… down there?
“I bet ye’re so sweet, so silky and soft. I can already taste yer flavor on my tongue, darlin’.” He moved in a little closer and I felt how hard he was, his erection thick and long and tenting his jeans.
I looked down and stared at that huge, male part of him. His length was so long I swore it would never fit, so girthy my fingers would never touch if I wrapped them around him.
I’d never be able to take all of him inside of me.