“Jesu!” The word burst from his throat, and his anger dissolved as the enjoyment she was giving him mounted with each moment that passed. Her tongue licked his full length, teasing the ruby knob of him. His hand reached down to touch her head, to encourage her further, and she sucked strongly upon him while shafts of pleasure plunged into his brain and body like sharp knives, and his manhood hardened like marble.
When he could bear no more, for he was close to bursting with desire, he commanded her through gritted teeth, “Enough, lass! Tis time for turnabout.” Then pulling her up, he forced her back against the pillows, his head moving down between her legs. He had never before tasted of her, but he realized that if she knew how to use a man as she had just used him, then Akbar had also introduced her to similar delights. He found the little pearl of her womanhood, and, reaching out with his tongue, he began to love it tenderly and was pleased to hear a soft cry of rapture escape from between her lovely lips. “Does that please ye, lass?” he whispered, and she cried “Aye!” but no more. His tongue worked the silky, pink flesh until she was moaning with desire.
It was too sweet, she thought, as her passion began to build. The feathery touches of his tongue, his mouth, against that greatest secret of her sex was driving her farther than she had ever been driven before. She didn’t think she could bear much more of his loving, and yet she didn’t think she could bear it if he stopped. She would lose her sanity shortly, but she didn’t care. Briefly she remembered back to the beginning of their marriage. He had loved her sweetly and tenderly then, but never as he was loving her now. His own passion had such an incredible intensity that for a moment she feared it would incinerate them both.
Then he lifted his head and, with a soft laugh, pulled himself up and over her. Taking his pulsing shaft in his hand, he positioned it and then plunged into her almost violently. With another cry Velvet wrapped her legs about his torso, her arms about his neck, and together they moved back and forth, dancing to love’s rhythm.
“I’ve waited so long, lass, to be inside of ye again,” he groaned in his passion.
“Oh, my darling,” she sobbed as all the memories of their togetherness flooded her soul, “love me well! You’re so big, my wild Highland lord. How you fill me! Don’t stop loving me, Alex! Don’t stop!”
He didn’t, and for several long, sweet minutes they lay locked in that most intimate of conjugal embraces. Then, unable to control themselves any longer, they attained paradise together as he exploded within her, his manhood bursting forth furiously to flood her with his creamy essence. “Ah, Velvet lass! Ah, sweet one!” He almost sobbed the words.
He had collapsed against her breasts, and she held him tenderly there as she floated down from her own heaven. Would it always be this intense with him, or was it but the excitement of their reunion? she wondered to herself. Her fingers slipped through his fine, dark hair, caressing him, loving him, and he felt her touch through his own daze.
Raising his head, he gazed at her, and Velvet suddenly felt warm and safe again. Smiling back, she gently teased him, “And just what are you looking so pleased about, my lord husband?”
“What kind of a woman have I taken to wife?” he wondered musingly.
“A passionate one,” she answered promptly, “and I shall not change, my darling.”
“Christ, no! My God, Velvet, I never suspected yer depths! Ye intoxicate me, my love, and knowing yer passion now, I shall become the most jealous of husbands.”
“I do not belong to you, Alex. I belong to myself, and you must remember that. I will never betray you, my love. I truly never have. But I will not be treated like a possession.”
“Nay, Velvet, I have learned this night that ye’re an equal. I may forget that from time to time, but ye will, I’ve not a doubt, remind me.”
“Indeed, my wild Highland lord, I will!”
He chuckled and, lying back, tossed an arm about her. “Ye did not jest when ye said ’twas time to start our family, did ye, Velvet, but ye’ve fair worn me out. I will need to rest now for a little bit.”
“Not yet,” she said and, slipping from his embrace, arose. Going to the fireplace, she lifted a small kettle from the grate. Pouring water from the kettle into a silver basin by the hearth, she returned to the bed with it and several soft cloths. “In India a bout of passion is followed, my lord husband, by a careful cleansing so that when Eros’s dart strikes again, the combatants are ready.” Dipping one of the cloths in the basin, she wrung it out and began to wash his manhood. When she was satisfied, she bent and kissed it, sending a surprising flash of heat through him. “Now,” she said softly, “you must do me,” and she handed him the second cloth.
Bathing her sex as she stood before him was, he found, one of the most sensually stimulating things he had ever done. He found himself working slowly, carefully, going back over already traveled territory until she laughed softly, saying, “You will but arouse me again, Alex, and that is not at all the purpose of this exercise. Kiss me now, and then let us rest.” Mesmerized, he obeyed her, kissing the puckered pink flesh, but unable to resist tweaking her once with his tongue, which caused her to shriek and jump away from him. Laughing, and content at having regained some measure of his self-esteem, he dropped the cloth and climbed back into their bed.
She slid into his arms, warm and sweet, and lay her head against his shoulder. Soon he heard her soft, even breathing and knew that she had fallen asleep. He, however, lay awake for some minutes. The girl he had married almost three years ago was so long gone that he could barely remember her. The woman who had replaced her was a delicious mystery that he suspected he would never quite solve, but in the ensuing years they had together he would enjoy seeking the pieces to the puzzle Velvet had become. Gradually Alex drifted into sleep himself.
Velvet awoke to kisses being lightly pressed over her torso. With a murmur of contentment, she stretched, saying, “Don’t stop, my darling. ’Tis too delicious!”
He chuckled. “Ye’ve turned into a magnificent wanton, my young wife. Dinna change!” Then he was kissing her lips, his tongue pushing into the fragrant cave of her mouth to re-explore. Challenging his invasion, she played a game of hide-and-seek with his tongue. His passion was slow to rouse this time, the edge having been taken off of it by their last love bout. Sitting up, the plump pillows behind his back, he placed her between his open legs and began to learn once more the curves and lines of her body.
The lushness of her delighted him. Her lovely round breasts fit perfectly into his big hands; her waist curved in so deeply that he could span it with his two hands; her torso was long and smooth. Her hips flared beneath his seeking fingers, and she murmured again signifying her pleasure at his touch. She drew her legs up, allowing him to smooth his hands up her thighs, down her calves. Then he held her in a tight embrace against his chest. His lips pushed her thick auburn hair aside, finding the soft nape of her neck upon which he placed several warm kisses.
“Ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” he whispered against her ear.
She smiled in the firelight, but he could not see her. “Is your little mistress, Alanna Wythe, not fair, my lord?” she asked wickedly.
“Alanna hasn’t been my mistress in months, Velvet.”
“Yet she resides atDun Broc, I am told.”
“I gave her the choice of returning to England or of remaining in my village of Broc Ailien with her daughter.”
“Her daughter?”Velvet stiffened.
“She claims the child is mine, and in all probability it is,” he replied, dreading each word as he spoke it, but it was better that she know it now before they reachedDun Broc.Alanna was still enormously put out by her removal from the castle and would cause mischief given the chance.
“How old is the child?” demanded Velvet.
