Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy 3)
“You are magnificent.”
His palms glided over her, stroking reverently. Her br**sts grew heavy. Aching. And so very tight. Her ni**les puckered and became hard, pouty, begging for his touch.
She sucked in her breath when his fingers brushed over both of her ni**les. Shards of exquisite pleasure streaked through her abdomen and down to her groin. Her womb clenched and her most intimate flesh grew damp. She was swollen and … hot.
Any idea that she could maintain her footing disappeared as soon as he lowered his head and his mouth closed around one taut nipple. She gasped and her knees buckled.
With a groan, he caught her against him, turned, and took a step to the bed. His arms wrapped tightly around her, he fell forward, coming down on top of her as her back hit the straw mattress.
His mouth melted over hers, taking until she couldn’t draw breath. When he tore his lips away, they both gasped for air. Before she could regain her senses, he ran his mouth heatedly down her jaw then to her neck and lower until he shaped her nipple and suckled strongly.
With each pull of his mouth, she moaned and wave after wave of excitement tugged relentlessly at her womb. He swirled his tongue around each peak, one and then the other. He licked and teased until she squirmed in frustration.
He acted like a man starved. And yet he was exceedingly gentle and in turns rough. It confused her.
She wanted more. She needed more. But she wasn’t at all sure what it was she wanted or needed.
He slid his tongue around and then up the underside of her breast until the bud balanced precariously on the edge of his lip. Then he sucked it inside, sweeping it past his teeth, pulling and tugging at it until she cried out and dug her nails into his broad shoulders.
“Caelen, please! Have mercy.”
He raised his head, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames in the hearth. “Mercy? Lass, I have none. Furthermore, you won’t want it. But you’ll beg for more. Aye, you will.”
He kissed the hollow between her br**sts and murmured softly against her skin. “You’re beautiful, Rionna. Never hide what God has given you. You are a woman blessed.”
His words soaked into her heart, giving comfort she hadn’t realized she needed. How could a man who was so harsh and unyielding speak with a poet’s soul? He was a hard man. His words were harder. He was quick to offer criticism. He hadn’t spared her feelings at any point. And yet now he wooed her as gently as a man wooing his lover.
He kissed a path down to her navel, moving his big body as his mouth moved lower. He tongued the indention, then grazed his teeth over the sensitive flesh.
More goose bumps scattered across her belly and still he moved lower, shocking her with his daring.
He parted her thighs and positioned his body so that his head was above her pelvis. Her eyes widened as he lowered his head. He couldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t.
Oh God, he did.
He slid his fingers through the patch of hair covering her throbbing center and parted the swollen, aching folds. She was so mystified that she couldn’t form a single objection as he pressed a kiss to her damp flesh.
She trembled uncontrollably. Her thighs shook. Her knees shook. Her belly quivered and her br**sts strained upward, so unbearably taut that she wanted to writhe right out of her skin.
And then he licked her.
A long, positively sinful swipe of his tongue, from her opening to the hood of flesh where he circled the throbbing bundle of nerves at her very heart.
He followed it with a simple kiss and then he sucked ever so gently at the little bud until she was a sobbing mess of incoherency.
Oh aye, he’d certainly told the truth about kissing.
Her sense of urgency mounted. Her body tensed and coiled, tighter and tighter. Pleasure bloomed and became nearly painful through her br**sts and her womb and centered at the pulsing nub that he so unmercifully teased.
It felt as though she’d simply break apart at some point, but each time she thought she’d surely split, the pressure and indescribable pleasure only increased, driving her further into the state of madness.
“Caelen! Please, I don’t know what to do.”
He kissed her center again and then raised his head, his eyes glowing with feral light. “Just let go, lass. You’re fighting the inevitable. I won’t hurt you, I swear it. ’Twill feel good. Relax now and let me love you.”
His words soothed over her, sinking in and relaxing her tense muscles and frayed nerves. When his mouth touched her once more, she shivered and closed her eyes as the build began all over again.
“You taste like honey. Never have I had anything sweeter. You make me daft with wanting. You’re all that a woman should be, Rionna. Never hide that or be ashamed of it.”
Tears pricked her eyelids. She trembled from head to toe, not just from the onslaught of pleasure, but from the emotions welling from her chest. Emotions that he’d unleashed.
She felt like a woman tonight. She felt beautiful and desired. Like a bride should. How she should have been made to feel on her wedding day, instead of an inferior replacement.
His tongue circled her entrance and then slid inside, shocking her with the sheer intensity of the sensation. She arched upward just as she finally, finally broke free of the excruciating pressure building from deep within.
It was the single most bewildering, most powerful, most absolutely wonderful experience of her life. She flew. Soared impossibly high and then floated ever so gently back toward the ground.
She closed her eyes and melted into the bed, so boneless, so positively sated that she couldn’t even imagine moving so much as a finger.
Her body quivered in the aftermath and tiny little shocks simmered through her blood, humming and buzzing. There was still a pulse between her legs, a slight ache and a throb, a reminder of the attentions he’d just given her with his mouth.