He groaned again as one hand came to land atop her head.
Interesting. The taste was a musk, which shouldn’t have been nearly as appealing as it was. Her free hand crept toward the junction of her thighs. A bead of moisture at the tip of his cock made her pause for a moment, the salty tang a pleasant accompaniment, but then she pushed herself deeper.
And he made a noise somewhere between a groan…and a whimper.
She wanted to smile but wasn’t sure if she could with her mouth full the way it was. Her hand gripped the base of his shaft, and although her lips were nowhere close to that spot, she felt as if she’d choke if she went any further.
The Penitent Swan. The Gray Lady had described this position as the female on her knees, her head bobbing, as she swallowed the man’s staff. Perhaps Fen should try that.
She backed off, leaving his manhood slick with saliva. And as his fingers tightened in her hair, she thrust herself forward once more, taking even more of him.
“God’s teeth, lass!”
This time she did smile, then repeated the movement again.
With his guidance, as he tugged at her hair, Fen soon settled into the correct rhythm. And with each breathless little groan he released, she became more and more wild. She’d never felt this powerful, this desirable, ever before! Imagine, being able to elicit such a response from this brawny warrior!
That thought, more than anything, had her reaching for the hem of her skirts. She moved her grip from the base of his shaft to the two intriguing pouches of skin underneath, as she bunched her skirt around her hips.
“Fenella.” His voice was hoarse, but she didnae look up at him. “Oh, God, lass. Ye’re killing me. Touch yerself. Let me watch ye.”
She needed no more encouragement. Her legs fell open, as they had the afternoon she’d ridden his cock until she’d found fulfillment, and one of her fingers slid between her wet folds.
Not very far, of course. She didn’t want to destroy his careful bandaging.
But with each stroke of her lips, she matched a stroke of her folds, and his hold on her hair tightened as he murmured to her.
“That’s the way, lass. Aye, like that. Ye’re imagining those are my fingers, aye? Or my tongue? Or my thick cock, claiming ye, making ye mine.”
She whimpered against said cock as her fingers delved inside her core, and he groaned again.
She could feel the pressure building; the orgasm she needed hovering just out of reach. There wasn’t enough pressure, wasn’t enough strength, in her strokes. She needed… She needed…
‘Twas as if he knew, understood, because suddenly, his fist tightened in her hair and his breath escaped him in a hiss. She froze, a moment before he pulled his engorged cock from between her lips.
When she looked up and met his eyes, she was surprised to see a look of…affection on his face. “Och, lass,” he whispered. “Do ye have any idea how arousing that is? To see yer lips parted like that?”
His gaze dropped from her face to her hand, and she knew exactly which lips he’d meant.
Suddenly, he moved as if he’d come to a decision, dropping his hand away from her hair and stepping back. One hand released his belt at the same time he reached down and yanked a lever attached to the brace on his knee. When she heard it pop, she realized this was the clever option built into the contraption Wynda had designed to allow his knee to bend when necessary.
And bend he did.
In between one heartbeat and the next, Brodie had dropped to his knees before her, his kilt falling around him as he reached for her bare breasts. She was hoping for more caresses, but was surprised when, instead, he pushed her backward.
That’s how Fen ended up flat on her back on the cot, her feet planted on the floor, her skirt around her waist, and her legs wide open. She was confused as anything…for a moment.
Because a moment was all he needed.
One moment, her hands were still on her wet core, but the next moment, his mouth had already claimed her.
Oh.
Oh.
Fen probably should’ve had more thoughts than that. Descriptions like wonderful necessary hot aching claiming mine please aye…but all she could think of was, Oh.
Oh.