In a few, long strides, he was standing behind her. Kieran heard her breath hitch, but she didn’t turn. She only stood there, waiting, breathing shallowly, her chest heaving with every draw of air.
She was cold under his hands when he cupped her breasts. Lydia gasped at the touch, leaning into it, the movement pressing her hips against Kieran’s manhood in a way that drove him mad with desire. Neither of them spoke; Kieran didn’t even know what to say, his mind focusing only on the feel of her under his hands—the smooth, velvety skin, the hardened peaks of her nipples as he teased them, pinching them between thumb and forefinger just to hear her gasp again, just to make her breathless.
Then, he let his hand trail lower and lower, his fingers brushing over Lydia’s stomach and reaching that thatch of curls between her legs, palming her mound. When his fingers slidover her opening, he found her already dripping with arousal, and something ignited inside him—a desire he could no longer ignore.
“Is this what ye wanted?” he all but growled in her ear. His arm wrapped tightly around her waist as she nodded fervently, her hands flying to his shoulders and holding on for dear life as he pleasured her. It was nothing like she had imagined; it was so much more, the sensations almost torturously pleasurable, pulses of them spreading through her body every time Kieran pumped his fingers.
How can it be like this? Is it always like this?
Would every touch from Kieran’s hands ignite this need within her? Would every look, every kiss bring down her defenses like this?
Lydia couldn’t help but feel as if she was completely at Kieran’s mercy, his hands playing her entire body like an instrument. He teased her, his fingers brushing over her folds again and again, the touch feather light and then more insistent, the pressure alternating until she was almost sobbing with a mix of frustration and joy. It was too much; it was not enough.
“Ye’ve been drivin’ me mad all this time,” Kieran said, his voice a rough rumble in her ear. “All I can think about is ye, Lydia. All I can think about is touchin’ ye like this, kissin’ ye… takin’ ye. I’ve been tryin’ to hold back. Ye ken that, daenae ye? I’ve been tryin’to keep meself away from ye, but when ye tempt me like this, what am I supposed to do?”
Lydia had no response for him. She couldn’t deny that she was tempting him, simply because what he claimed was true. For a long time, she had wished Kieran would finally touch her like this, just how she wanted, but it was true he had been holding back. Lydia hadn’t questioned why, at least not out loud. And yet, she had sometimes wondered if he was doing it for her sake or his.
“Tell me,” Kieran said, that hand that was between her legs now coming up to grab her chin and make her face him. Lydia whined at the loss of the touch; she couldn’t help it. Her entire body was on fire, her desire too strong to ignore, too much to simply put aside for a conversation. “What is it ye want me to do?”
“This,” Lydia said in a breathless tone. “Just this, Kieran. Touch me.”
“Just this?” Kieran asked with a soft chuckle, not yet giving her what she wanted. “Are ye certain ye daenae want anythin’ more?”
Lydia’s cheeks burned a bright red as Kieran forced her to look at him, never once taking his gaze away from hers. She didn’t know how he could be talking so casually about such things; she also didn’t know why her body was reacting like this to it. She shouldn’t be so aroused by his words. She shouldn’t be craving them as much as she craved his touch, and yet, despite her embarrassment, she would be lying if she said she didn’t like it.
“How about I tell ye what I want?” Kieran asked, the corners of his lips ticking up in a small smirk. It was an infuriating expression on him—terribly handsome but also terribly smug.
“What… what do ye want?” Lydia asked, breathless, her chest heaving with every breath she took.
She couldn’t help it; she wanted to hear more. She wanted to know what it was Kieran had in store for her, and the more he stalled, teasing her, the more her anticipation grew, deriving her mad with need.
“I want to taste ye,” Kieran said, his voice low and smooth as velvet. “I want to kiss every part of yer body. I want to hold ye in me arms as I take ye and hear ye scream with pleasure.”
Lydia was close to screaming now, though from pleasure or from frustration, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she needed Kieran to touch her again, to kiss her, to give her what she craved the most.
But he was still stalling.
“Please,” Lydia breathed. “Please, Kieran, touch me.”
“Where?”
He gave her a devious smile, one that sent a current of need through her. Instead of telling him, she reached for the hand that still held her chin and took it in hers, hiding it once morebetween her legs. And this time, Kieran didn’t refuse her, nor did he stall.
His fingers found her opening once more, and he teased her for a moment again before he gently pressed one digit past the tight ring of muscle. The sudden intrusion cut Lydia’s breath short; she gasped, feeling as if she couldn’t draw enough breath in her lungs, warmth coursing through her body, radiating from her core.
“Good?” Kieran asked, and Lydia could only nod wordlessly.
It was better than good. It was magical, the kind of sensation that threatened to take her out of her mind, letting her drift far away from everything else. She wanted that sweet oblivion, being so lost in her pleasure that it was all that mattered, and she surrendered to Kieran’s touch, letting him please her as he saw fit.
And when he dropped to his knees before her, his mouth tracing the shape of her mound before his lips finally closed around that spot that sent a violent wave of pleasure through her, she couldn’t help but truly scream.
Mortified, Lydia clamped a hand over her mouth as she stared at Kieran. He seemed perfectly pleased with himself, glancing up at her through his lashes for a moment before he continued his ministrations. Lydia’s fingers tangled in Kieran’s hair, tugging gently at the strands as he pleasured her, dragging the flat of his tongue over her folds and tasting her just as he had told her he wanted to do.
The wet heat of his tongue was a sweet torture on her sensitive skin. Its touch was soft, velvety, drawing moan after moan out of her. And when Kieran groaned against her, as though he was the one receiving pleasure, Lydia couldn’t help but shudder. The sight of him like this, enjoying the act, had her knees trembling, her core pulsing with need.
Heat spread over her the more Kieran worked her. Pleasure coiled in her stomach, growing with every brush of his tongue, every gentle press of it on her skin. Then he craned his neck, and before Lydia knew it, that clever tongue was pushing inside her, dipping just past the first ring of muscle.
Lydia’s breath caught in her throat. That, coupled with the gentle suction over her most sensitive spot, quickly pushed her over the edge. Before she knew it, she was reaching her climax, her body bowing over Kieran, her muscles tense like a taut string. Her pleasure coursed through her in waves, and she moaned his name as she shook over him, her hand gripping tightly onto the strands of his hair.
