She trembled, her thighs quivering as she struggled to keep upright against the curve of the stone wall. Every stroke of his thumb on her rosebud made her feel alive.
Maisie gasped, his thumb pressing into her. The closeness was unbearable, thrilling, dangerous, yet she could not pull away.
"Caiden," she breathed, her voice breaking with longing, "if ye keep touchin' me so, I'll nae have the strength to resist."
Her words trembled, but she did not push him away.
"Then daenae resist," he murmured, his lips brushing her thigh.
Heat shot down her spine, her pulse hammering low in her belly until she thought she might fall apart. She clung to the stair railing for balance, the rough wood digging into her palm, anchoring her.
"God help me, Maisie, I cannae stay away from ye." With those words he plunged his face between her thighs.
She felt his tongue lick and suck on her forbidden area. She felt the world tilt as his mouth claimed her, hot and demanding.
Her lips parted, her heart surging wildly as though she had been starving for this. It stole her breath, stole her reason, and she sank against the wall, every thought but his touch vanishing.
Her hands rose of their own accord, tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer against her as she opened her thighs wider.
His skilled kiss deepened. Heat pooled in her belly, her thighs trembling harder as the thrill of being caught flickered in her mind.
Any servant could wander the corridor, yet that danger only sharpened the fire burning between them. She forced herself to restrain all the moans that begged to be released.
"Ye drive me mad, lass," he groaned against her. Caiden let out a low growl of desire, his control fraying.
Maisie clutched at the wall, her breath coming in desperate gasps as she arched toward him. The sensation was intoxicating, as if she were on the brink of falling into some beautiful abyss.
"Maisie, ye'll ruin me," he said.
Her skin tingled, gooseflesh rising where his mouth grazed, and she gasped aloud at the intensity.
"I swore to keep away, but God above, ye've bewitched me."
She moaned softly, unable to hold back. Her pulse hammered, her belly tight with a pulsing ache she could not ignore.
"Caiden," she whispered, her voice thick with yearning, "I daenae ken what is happenin' to me." Her fingers tightened in his hair as she tilted her head back, granting him more of her. "I want this, want ye."
With that, she released and slid down the wall. She sat on the stair as Caiden simply looked at her. She felt vulnerable, but she could not stop the tremors that moved through her.
He groaned deeply, his hand sliding to her thigh. The touch made her cry out softly, her whole body trembling as he touched. She felt every inch of him, powerful and unyielding, and her blood burned hot in her veins. She clung to him, desperate, terrified, alive.
The danger of the stairwell, open, exposed, vulnerable, only heightened the fever of the moment. She could hear distant footsteps echoing somewhere above, though no one appeared. Still, the thought of discovery set her pulse racing faster, mingling with the thrill of his hands upon her.
"We could be caught," she whispered breathlessly, though her body betrayed no wish to stop.
"Let them catch us," Caiden growled, his lips devouring hers once more. "Let the whole castle ken what ye do to me." His voice was thick with passion, every word carrying the weight of desire he could no longer deny. Maisie felt herself unravelbeneath him, her breath mingling with his as she gave herself to the moment.
Needing to give back, Maisie let her hand slide down to his hardened staff. Her fingers kneaded gently into the taut member, finding the tension there and easing it with slow, tender strokes.
Caiden's head fell back slightly, a deep moan escaping his lips. "Saints above, lass… ye've magic hands."
His voice sent another wave of heat through her, her heart swelling at the pleasure she gave him.
"Ye carry so much upon yer shoulders, Caiden," she whispered, massaging his thick rod with steady care. "Let me take some of the weight." Her touch grew firmer, coaxing another low groan of delight from his chest.
"Maisie," he breathed, his hands tightening at her waist, "if ye keep this up, I'll never let ye go."
His words trembled between plea and promise, and she felt her heart falter with longing. She wanted to tell him she did not wish to be let go, not now, not ever. But instead, she continued to massage him, unsure if she did things correctly, letting his moans guide her.
