“Spread yer legs for me, Skye,” he commanded seductively.
Her legs fell open automatically.
Skye’s shock turned quickly into pleasure as his fingers gently explored her sex, his lips and mouth never ending their tender assault on her breasts.
Skye wound her fingers in his hair and tugged. “I need… I need…”
Arran lifted his head from her breast, releasing her nipple with a pop. She sighed in disappointment, but then surprise took over as he kissed down her stomach.
“Arran, what are ye…?” she panted when she felt his warm breath on the damp red curls.
And then she couldn’t think at all when his head dove lower and he kissed her womanhood. His tongue dove between her folds and then circled a particularly sensitive nub.
Skye couldn’t breathe. And she didn’t care. The exquisite torture of what he was doing to her was worth anything. She felt a pressure build in her core, and every muscle locked tight. She bucked her hips, and another moan escaped her lips.
She pushed Arran’s head lower as she ground her hips against his mouth. Her other hand clutched the woolen blanket, and shefeared to let go. Finally, she let out a cry of sweet release, and then her body went slack.
Am I still alive?
She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t move her arms and legs, and she wasn’t sure she was breathing. But then she felt Arran’s warm lips on her cheeks and heard him whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
“Arran,” she breathed.
“Hmm,” he murmured as he rolled off her and lay beside her.
“I didnae ken ye could do that,” she said shyly.
“This is only the beginning, lassie,” he said with a grin. “And there’s more.”
More? I daenae ken if I can take any more.
Yet, something in her began to wonder if she actually could.
Her eyelids grew heavy. Arran gathered her into his arms, and she nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. She was asleep before he kissed her forehead.
Skye woke up as a ray of sunshine filtered through a glass pane in the window, and she watched tiny dust motes dance in the light. She rested on her side, her head pillowed on Arran’s muscular bicep, his body curved around hers. Sometime during the night, he’d pulled a blanket over them, but she’d not woken up.
Safe.
Skye wasn’t able to recall a time when she’d slept so well.
Perhaps it was the… the activity before ye fell asleep.
She thought of her brazen behavior and blushed, then rolled over and looked at her husband.
She had to smile. He looked disheveled, younger, and far from the brute she accused him of being. Last night he had been tender and gentle, and she felt warmth pool between her legs again.
Arran felt her wiggle, and his eyes fluttered open. “Good mornin’, lass,” he croaked. “Did ye sleep well?”
Skye nodded but then propped herself up on her elbow. She had so many questions.
“Arran, what we did… what ye did… I never kenned…” She had trouble getting the words out. “Is that allowed?”
Arran laughed. “Aye, dearie. It is allowed, and I highly recommend it. Often.”
She swatted his shoulder and then she asked, “But can a woman do that to a man?”
Arran swallowed, and a vein in his neck started to throb. “Aye,” he replied huskily. “It is different, but aye, ye can. But for now, me wife, it is time to get out of bed.”
