He withdrew,then rocked back in, steady but gentle.
Each forward stroke grew surer,the depth measured by the catch of her breath, the flutter of her knees. Stone abraded her shoulders through her gown, but the sting only heightened the sensation concentrated where they joined. He kept one arm banded beneath her bottom, the other braced beside her head, his biceps bunching as he moved. The cadence built: slick slide, soft slap of skin, her helpless whimpers weaving with his guttural groans.
“Ye grip me so tight,so wet,”he rasped, angling his hips so the next thrust brushed a place inside her that shattered vision into bright sparks.
Her head thudded back;her eyes rolled, unseeing, as coiling heat compressed tighter and tighter. Sweat glazed the hollow between her breasts, where his chest hair rasped delicate flesh. Piper felt herself teetering on a precipice she had never approached, muscles tensing, breath suspended.
“Let go,”he commanded, voice gravel.“Come for me, Piper. Milk me like a good lass.”
The filthy benedictionsnapped the coil.
Release crashed through her;her inner walls clenched, rippling along his length. She cried out, a raw, unraveling sound that echoed off the stone, her hips jerking as wave after wave pulsed.
Elijah drove into her once,then twice more, then buried himself to the root, swelling impossibly. His roar spilled into her neck as hot spurts bathed her depths, claiming, marking, and binding.
They stayed locked,trembling in the hush that followed, heartbeats thudding against each other’s skin.
Slowly,he eased her legs down, steadying her as they wobbled, then swept her into his arms. Striding to the curtained alcove bed, he laid her on linen sheets that smelled faintly of heather. Cool air kissed her damp thighs; soreness twinged, but contentment weighed heavier.
Elijah stretched beside her,tugging her against his chest. The kiss he pressed to her mouth was languid and reverent, tasting of shyness shed and secrets traded. Sunlight shifted across their tangled limbs like liquid gold, warming flesh marked by passion and promise.
Outside,the ceilidh and the people waited; inside, only breaths mingled, the silent pledge that nothing would ever be the same. Piper threaded her fingers through his hair, replaying the delicious burn between her thighs, and knew she already hungered for the next lesson her Highlander would teach.
“Mine,”he murmured against her lips, drowsy yet fierce.
“Yers,”she answered, and sealed the vow with a kiss.
The End?
