Dark satisfaction twisted his mouth, like a predator savoring its prey’s surrender.
Before she could draw in another breath, his hand was back between her legs. Two fingers plunged deep into her slick heat this time.
He wasn’t punishing her anymore. Instead, he stroked her like his sole purpose was to pleasure her. His fingers pumped into her, making her cry out. His thumb found her pearl again and rubbed it fast.
Eventually, pleasure crashed over her without mercy. Loud moans spilled out of her as she shuddered against him.
When the final tremor ebbed, he slowly withdrew his fingers. He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of her ear.
“Good lass,” he murmured, his tone almost tender.
Then he stepped back, letting go of her.
Without another word, he turned and walked toward the door. Within seconds, the heavy oak closed behind him.
Sorcha remained sprawled on the table, her legs still spread, her skin damp with sweat. She could still smell him; his scent filled her lungs with every breath she drew.
“Good lass.”
The words echoed in her mind.
He had gotten what he wanted. Yet, all she could think about, all she could breathe, was him.
14
Avery and Rhea were giggling. The sound was bright and impossible to ignore.
They were sitting together on the cushioned bench by the window, sharing some delicious treats. Sorcha sat across from them, and she might as well have been a world away.
She might look present, but she was consumed by her thoughts. No, not consumed. Butembarrassed.
That was more accurate, because that was the only way to describe the heat in her cheeks. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how she angled her face or feigned interest in the embroidery hoop on her lap, one thing was for sure: it was only a matter of time before they noticed.
But she would worry about being caught afterward. For now, she worried more about the fact that she could stillfeelhim.
The night of the cèilidh stubbornly refused to leave her mind. How could it? They had done formidable things atop a large table until she desperately wanted more.
She still couldn’t believe what had happened, but the skip in her pulse each time the memory resurfaced was proof enough.
Her defiance had failed her. In that reckless moment, she had swapped it for shamelessness, one that took control of her like a thief in the night.
Just thinking of him, just remembering how his fingers had explored her, made heat rush between her thighs.
I cannae face him again,she told herself, pressing her palms against her cheeks. She couldn’t imagine doing so. She would rather the earth swallow her up.
Nay. Absolutely nae.
She shook her head, as if that would dissolve the memory. The image of his dark eyes tracing her curves was far too embarrassing. Entirely unforgivable. And yet her breath stuttered.
As much as she despised herself for it, despite the burning shame, there was no denying the truth beneath it all: the release that had followed was the sweetest thing she had ever felt. It was overwhelming, devastating. Something her body remembered with startling clarity.
Something her body wanted again.
Her movements caught Avery’s attention.
“Sorcha?” she called, her face softening with concern. “Are ye quite well, lass?”
Sorcha blinked, then forced a laugh that sounded thin to her own ears. She rose to her feet too quickly, nearly toppling the small table beside her.
