Ye Give Love A Plaid Name (Bad in Plaid 3)

“I—“ He gasped, then shook his head. “Love, I cannae—“

She silenced him with another kiss.

And this one wasn’t sweet at all.

She took him into her, she matched his pace, she met him thrust for thrust. Her hands caressed, stroked, urged, as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arse. And her hot, wet core welcomed him, teased him.

He needed her.

She was the one who broke away with a gasp, but she didn’t go far. Her hands were still on his cheeks, when she straightened away from him.

“Come,” she commanded, jerking her chin down the corridor. “There’s something I want ye to see.”