It seems the memory of his own childhood lessons is making Kai even less enthusiastic. “How about I take ya to Paris instead?”
Paris sounds pretty good but I’m not willing to concede. I’ve done enough of that in this deal. “Ballroom dancing. The foxtrot, the tango, whatever the hell that was in there. You dragged me around the floor like I was an elk you just shot.”
Kai gives me his half-smile, tracing a rough fingertip down my bare shoulder. “Wrong, ya pulled the dance off beautifully.”
“So, you don’t want that kiss. Okay.” Stepping back, I watch his supreme desire tonotteach me ballroom dance warring with his intent to kiss me.
“Not so fast,” he grabs my waist, pulling me back against him. “Two hours of dance lessons.”
“An hour a night for a week,” I bargain. “I pick things up pretty quick.”
“Done.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
In which stuffed lizards and fish fossils are treated to a sight they can never unsee.
Luna…
“An hour a night for a week,” I bargain. “I pick things up pretty quick.”
“Done.”
He swoops in for a kiss and a fluttering little moan escapes me. Like everything else he does, Kai approaches kissing like I’m something to conquer. His tongue forces my mouth open and toys with mine as his hands tighten around my waist, lifting me onto a glass display case.
“Kai, I don’t think we’re supposed to-” Cutting me off with another kiss, he runs his hand up my leg, the slit in the dress helpfully falling open.
“Beautiful you are,” he whispers hoarsely, his lips dropping to my chest, kissing my collarbones and whatever part of my breasts the dress isn’t covering. “Ya stood up to those pompous fecks like a queen.”
His thumb has traveled far enough up my leg to stroke over the front of my suddenly and alarmingly wet undies without me noticing, and my fingers dig into his arm.
Smiling devilishly, he swoops in for a kiss. “Lift your hips.”
I’m too busy kissing him to pay attention, so I yelp when he lifts me himself, pulls my undies off and puts them in his pocket. The move is so oddly erotic that I kiss him harder, sliding my hands into his thick hair. No man should have such good hair. The MacTavishes have not heard of male pattern baldness because even the older men have a flagrant abundance of the stuff.
“Wait.” The reminder of his multiple family members attending this event hits me. “What if one of your people comes looking for us?” I try to pull loose and slip down from the case, and he is having none of it, looping both my legs over his shoulders.
“I’ll kill the first person who walks in this room.” With that unhelpful statement, my husband bends over, giving me a long, catlike lick from the top of my pussy to my pucker in the back. When I groan, he does it again, using the flat of his tongue and then the tip to play with all those blasted nerve endings. My gaze is still on the open entrance to this room but it’s getting harder to pay attention because…
He’skillingme.
Two fingers slide inside me while his thumb circles firmly over my clitoris, and I fall back, nearly hitting my head on the metal display card. “Is this all for me?” Kai says, his lips moving against my wet, swollen flesh.
“No,” I moan, “there was a really hot bartender over by the stage.”
His shoulders are shaking with laughter as he pushes another finger inside me. Three fingers are a lot. Yanking on his hair, I manage to wheeze, “Too many! That’s-”
Damn him. He curls his fingers and very delicately, scratches my G-spot, and I’m dragged kicking and screaming into an orgasm.When my thighs stop shaking, I realize he has his hand over my mouth.
“A screamer,” he says approvingly. “I love a noisy lass. Are ya on birth control, little fox? I’m clean.”
Blinking, I try to remember the question. “Yes, I am on birth control. And thank you for asking.”
When his hand goes to his belt buckle, we both pause, staring down between my open legs. “I have to be inside you, little fox.”
Everything slows down for a moment. His hand paused against his waistband, waiting for me. If he’d offered me another lesson to have sex with me, I would have cracked that fish fossil over his head and stormed off. Fucking is not transactional, it’s too intimate, it means too much and I’m oddly thrilled that he understands this.
Sliding a hand between us, I gently squeeze his monster erection, enjoying listening to him groan for a change. “I don’t think I can be quiet,” I admit.
