Don't Give A Damn About My Plaid Reputation (Bad in Plaid 4)

“Aye, Kester.” She leaned forward—the movement pressing his cock between her curls and his stomach—and said in a wickedly teasing tone, “I want ye to fook me, milord. I want to feel yer cock deep in me as I find pleasure. I want to scream yer name.”

“Jesu Christo,” he breathed, already reaching for her breasts. Then he repeated, “Jesu Christo, Robena. I almost lost ye.”

“Aye, but ye saved me. And we might no’ have forever—” Her voice caught, refusing to allow herself to focus on that right now. “But we have tonight.”

His hands stilled, and she watched something contort his expression.

In a blink of an eye, he went from shocked to determined, and he lifted his palms to cup her cheeks. This required her to lean forward, toward him, and since that meant his cock jutted hard against her clitoris, she didn’t mind at all.

“Lass…Robena, is now an appropriate time to tell ye I love ye?”

His voice sounded half-tortured, half-exasperated, and she allowed her fond smile to bloom. “What are we now? Sixty-five percent of the way through our story?” She pretended to think about it as she teased him, her hands supporting herself on his shoulders. “Aye, I think ‘tis appropriate.”

“Well….” His lips curled in a smile as he tugged her closer. “We might be at sixty-eight percent by now.”

“Just say it, Kester.”

“I love ye, Robena Oliphant.”

A sense of rightness melted through her, and she sighed softly as she lowered her lips to his. “And I love ye,” she whispered against his skin.

With a groan, he slid his palm around to the back of her head, pulling her closer for a kiss. She cupped his cheeks—delightfully scratchy with the days’ worth of whiskers—in her hands and held him.

This position shifted her forward, until the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance. ‘Twas completely natural to sink back, to seat herself atop it. They both stiffened at the sensation, then slowly relaxed, their lips still pressed to one another.

They were sharing the same air.

Robena had never felt so full. Full, but also…whole. As if a part of her had been missing all this time and he’d been the one to complete her.

She wanted to move, but he was still lying still beneath her.

So, she flexed her hips just slightly, remembering the way she’d moved when she’d been on her side. The motion wrenched a groan from him, but she was too busy gasping in delight, as a million tiny points of pleasure burst inside her.

“Lass,” he growled, sounding in pain, “are ye—? Do ye need…?”

“I need to move.” She planted her palms on either side of his head. “I need—”

She wasn’t certain what she needed.

But he was.

His hands on her hips once more, Kester showed her how to rest her weight on her knees, so he could slide in and out of her from beneath. At first, his movements were slow and subtle, allowing her time to get used to the sensation.

But soon, she was panting, her eyes squeezed shut, her entire being focused on her core and where they became one. Once, she’d thought such sensations overwhelming…but now, she didn’t understand how she’d lived without this.

“Oh, St. Kelsi protect me!” she gasped, as she inched closer to her release. “Kester, please.”

As he thrust into her, he commanded, “Look at me, Robena.”

How could she disobey such an order? She met his blue eyes, which were bright in the dim light.

“I love ye, Robena,” he growled, each beat punctuated with a thrust. “I dinnae care what the King says; ye’re mine and I’m yers.”

Oh, St. Kelsi’s vocal cords! She was so close.

All she could do was pant in agreement, hoping he’d understand.

“Robena, whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together.”