“Aye, lassie, whatever ye want.”
She beamed at him.
He led her up the Royal Mile.
Dair was seated on the side of the bed.
Blake was seated in his lap, bouncing on his cock.
He felt her wet cunt gripping and releasing as she moved up and down at his command with his fingers wrapped around her ribcage, and it felt fucking phenomenal.
Making it better was the hungry look in her eyes, the flush across the creamy skin of her cheeks, her nails digging into his flesh where she held him at his shoulders.
For her part in paying for drinks earlier, he smacked her ass, not for the first time that night, and without him saying a word, she went faster, also not for the first time.
Definitely.
He was falling for her.
He moved one hand over her belly, down, in, and thumbed her clit.
Her head fell back, exposing the elegant line of her neck, and she bounced even harder.
Fucking hell, she wasn’t something.
She was everything.
It was time to get serious.
He took her with him as he got to his feet, and while he did, he got off on her startled, annoyed, turned-on cry.
He pulled her off his cock, turned her and deposited her in the bed on her hands and knees, that sweet arse facing him.
He took hold of her hip with one hand, his dick with the other, and guided it home.
Her head flew back, and she released a sultry moan.
His balls drew up.
Oh, aye.
She was everything.
Standing beside the bed, he rode her rough.
She reared back into him, her excited pants and the sound of flesh meeting flesh egging him on, until he got close.
He reached along her back, tangling his fingers in her hair and giving it a gentle tug.
She mewed and was forced into an arch for him.
Christ, she was gorgeous.
He bent to her, snaking a hand around, and homed in on her clit.
The second he touched her, she went wild for him.
Or wilder.
