Stolen By The Scottish Rogue (Kilts & Kisses 2)
“Let us begin,” he says quietly.
Begin? Oh, this began the moment I saw her. It’s finishing right now, and the next chapter begins.
…The one where she’s mine, forever.
Chapter 10
Ailith
The door to Malcolm’s private chambers slams shut behind me with a thunderous sound, but I barely even hear it. In fact, I’m barely aware of anything beyond the fact that I’m wrapped in Malcolm’s arms and kissing him.
…Or the fact that I’m his wife.
I moan into his lips, floating across the floor with him carrying me in his arms as I kiss him madly. He strides right for the bed, but there’s no nervousness in me. There’s no spike of uncertainty or worry like part of me worried there might be. No, with Malcolm, there’s only excitement.
Because I am so ready for this.
I whimper when he sets me down on the bed, on my knees facing him. Malcolm groans, leaning down over me, cupping my face in his big hands, and kissing me until my lips tingle and I forget where I even am.
“I want you always and forever, princess,” he growls quietly, his lips bruising mine. “I want you now, and every day, and every which way. Because you’re my queen—my world, and my everything.”
I moan, kissing him softly as his hands move to my wedding gown. It’s a new one, and unlike the one I was wearing for my wedding to Carlson, this one just seems more “me.” It’d demure, but pretty—soft and light, and when Malcolm’s fingers begin to unlace the ties that close it, I push into him, wanting him to just tear it off.
He tugs the ties open, his eyes sweeping over me as he pushes the soft white linen off of my bare shoulders. He tugs it down my arms, freeing them and letting the dress tumble down over the swell of my breasts. He groans, his eyes feasting on my bare skin and pink, swollen nipples as he pushes the dress down over my hips, until it pools at my knees.
Malcolm draws back, his eyes fierce and wild as they drag over every inch of me. The room is dark but for the full moon streaming in from the open doors to a large terrace balcony, and my skin glows under it.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs softly, his jaw tight. “Gods are you beautiful.”
He groans as he sweeps me into his arms, kissing me slow and deep until I’m melting for him. Until fire blazes through my veins, and until heat pools wickedly between by thighs.
His hand slides down my hip, tracing the groove of my thigh until I gasp as I feel his fingers push wetly through my slick folds.
“And gods do I love how wet this pretty little cunt gets for me,” he groans. His fingers strum over me, making me whimper as I cling to him, and when our lips come together again, I moan wildly into his mouth as his fingers roll over my clit.
Slowly, he turns me, pulling my bare back to his chest, his fingers never leaving my center as his lips brush my neck. I shiver, feeling his teeth rake my skin gently as his thick fingers begin to rub me faster. His other hand slides up my side and teases over my skin until he’s cupping one swollen breast. His fingers tease my aching nipple, and I moan as I melt back into him.
“Lay down, princess,” he purrs into my ear, sliding his hands from me and gently pushing me forward. I stretch out across the bed, arching my back and feeling so… wanted. I feel sensual, and so ready for what’s to come.
I turn my head at the sound of Malcolm removing his clothes, my lip catching in my teeth and heat tingling through my core as I watch him disrobe. The moonlight catches his skin, glinting over the grooved muscles, the bulging arms, the scars from war.
God is he beautiful—beautiful in this completely masculine way that sends shivers through me as I drink him in.
He pulls his kilt away, and I whimper, my eyes locking onto his thick, swollen cock. He’s so big—his throbbing shaft jutting out from between muscled thighs, his grooved abs rippling above it. He groans, his eyes sweeping over me as he reaches down, and when he wraps a hand around that gorgeous cock and begins to stroke, I whimper.
“Lay down, my little princess,” he purrs softly. I tremble, stretching back out across the bed, and when I feel it dip with his weight as he moves onto it with me, I tremble. I wonder how he’ll take me. I wonder if he’ll be slow and gentle, or hard and rough.
…I wonder which I want, because they both sound good.
His lips on the back of my heel has me gasping, and when I feel his kisses begin to tease up the back of my leg, I sigh with pleasure. He kisses up the back of one calf, lingering at the back of my knee and teasing my skin with his tongue before he moves to the other leg. His mouth traces the same route up this side, again, lingering at my knee. Only this time, he starts to move higher, kissing up the back of my thigh.