He looked at her mouth and then at her eyes. “It is me wanting ye.”
Her breath hitched. “Ye stayed away for days.”
“I tried,” he rasped. “It didnae work.”
“The whole clan is here,” she cautioned. “We must be careful.”
“I will be careful withye,” he emphasized. “Nae with this.”
His knuckles brushed her cheek. The touch was light, and it made her stand a little straighter. He put his other hand on her waist, and heat seeped through the blue fabric. She did not pull away.
“Say nay,” he said. “If ye mean it.”
She held his gaze. “I didnae say nay in the hall.”
“Say it now.”
She swallowed. “I am tired of refusing what I want.”
“What do ye want?” he prompted.
“Ye.” The word was steady.
His nostrils flared. “Good.”
He bent and caught her mouth. It was not gentle. It was hungry and desperate.
She rose on her tiptoes and answered. Her hands fisted in his hair. The door dug into her back. He made a rough sound in the back of his throat and kissed her again, slower this time. He tasted the word she had spoken and held it like a vow.
“Tell me if I hurt ye,” he murmured.
“Ye daenae,” she breathed. “Ye make it hard to think.”
“Then let me think for both of us.”
He kissed the corner of her mouth and the line of her jaw. She turned her face and kissed him back.
The room shrank. A chair scraped when his hip brushed it. A stack of notes teetered and fell.
She laughed against his mouth. “We will have to read those again.”
“I will write new ones,” he assured her.
The room seemed to spin around them as he backed her to the wall. He leaned in and kissed her lips, then her neck and the hollow at the base of her throat. He groaned, the sound reverberating through her.
He pressed against her, and she felt his hard manhood against her thigh. Her hands tried to reach for it, but he pinned them above her head. His lips traveled down her covered chest and settled on the seam of her bodice.
“Neil,” she groaned, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.
He lifted her skirt and straightened, sealing her lips with his. Then he traced a path up her thighs with his fingers.She threw her head back, desperate to grab onto something. The sconce nearby, his hair, the rafters if she could.
He slid a finger into her and curled it, sending waves of pleasure down her spine. All the while, his lips moved over hers, swallowing her moans.
After she adjusted, he slid another finger and started a rhythm, grinding against her to match the pace. His lips moved down her chin to her neck as he curled and uncurled, listening to what made her moan and what made her breath catch. He twisted and turned, then increased the pace, his harsh breath fanning her cheeks.
Her hands raked over his back and arms, but eventually settled against his chest. He pumped his fingers into her like his life depended on it.Likeherlife depended on it.
Soon, the pressure that had been building in her core for the last few minutes burst, causing her to almost black out. His fingers didn’t stop even after she grew sensitive, and her soul almost left her body.
