She’d enjoyed the frenzied heat of her encounters with Ewan. The woodcutter had been lusty, usually hiking up her skirts and taking her up against the nearest tree. But this was different.
The desire that Craeg stirred in her turned her into a wild thing.
Spreading her wider still, he then lowered himself between her thighs.
Two things happened then.
His tongue speared inside her, and her ragged curse ripped through the chamber.
Panting, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, watching as his tongue thrust into her again, and she quivered against him. And then, as sweat beaded on her forehead, he dragged that wicked tongue up and down her slit.
She couldn’t help it; she gasped out a series of oaths that would have made a harlot blush.
Craeg glanced up, his cheek dimpling as she grinned. “Like that do ye?”
“Aye,” she growled. “Don’t ye dare stop!”
His dark eyes glinted, and then he ducked his head between her thighs once more and resumed licking her.
Pleasure knotted in her womb, tightening with each stroke. Her thighs started to tremble. Heat washed through her loins.
She couldn’t look away. And as when he’d lavished attention on her breasts, he took his time now too. He let the tension wind tighter as she shuddered and gasped. His hands slid under her, and he clasped each buttock, lifting her to meet his questing mouth and tongue.
Heat ignited in the cradle of her hips. She was melting. Burning. But still he continued.
The tip of his tongue found the hard bud of flesh nestled above her entrance then, flicking over it gently. Her legs started to quiver and jerk.
Sweat gleamed off her breasts now. She was having trouble drawing breath. The tension was unbearable. She was so close, so—
Craeg drew back.
A cry of disappointment tore from her. “I told ye not to stop!”
The soft rumble of his laugh echoed through the chamber as he rose up between her thighs. “I’m not, lass.”
With that, he pushed her legs back, folding her almost double. Opening her, exposing her even more fully than before.
He moved closer on his knees, and her gaze went to his prick.
It was even harder and bigger than earlier. And it was leaking now, wetness sliding down its swollen length.
Hazel whimpered, desperately. She needed him. Now.
But still he made her wait, teasing her by rubbing the tip of himself between her slick thighs.
Her breathing caught. She was drenched down there. The sounds that now filtered through the bedchamber were lewd, carnal, but they just excited her further.
He pushed her thighs back further, holding her pinned open with his hands just beneath the underside of her knees.
And then he slid into her.
Slowly.
A guttural sound tore from Hazel.
Meanwhile, a nerve jumped on Craeg’s cheek, and he ground out a low curse of his own.
Inch by inch, he sank into her.
