She touched his nipples, and he bit back a moan. Eliza leaned down to kiss him, her breasts brushing his chest. Desperate now, he gripped her waist and lifted her briefly so he could draw a tight nipple into his mouth. Her gasp made him move to the other and administer the same torture before releasing her.
Her eyes were full of desire when she looked at him, and Mungo wasn’t sure how much longer he could control his need for her.
She rose to her knees and shuffled down his body to straddle his thighs, her hair loose around her slender shoulders, breasts full and lush, and her face flushed with the heat of passion. It was a sight he’d always remember.
“Your skin is so warm,” she whispered, running both hands over his chest and stomach again. “I feel as if I’m always cold.”
“I’m Scottish,” he gritted out.
“Aye, I know,” she said in a terrible accent.
She touched him then, and where he thought he’d been aching and hard before, it increased tenfold as her fingers ran up and down his hard length. When she wrapped around his shaft, he arched off the bed, nearly dislodging her.
“Does that hurt?”
“No and yes,” he gritted out. “But I’ve had enough of your torture.”
“It’s hardly that,” she protested, but it turned into a squeal as he flipped her onto her back and rose up over her.
He swallowed any further words as he kissed her long and deep. Then he said, “Open your legs, Eliza.”
She did as he asked, and then he was there, pressing at her entrance, easing slowly inside as her body made room for him.
Slow, Mungo.He fought to thrust, to take her, and then he was there, buried deep inside Eliza Downing, and never had he felt with any woman before the way he did in that moment.
“Christ, lass….” He buried his face against her neck, needing a second to gather any semblance of control. He felt her fingers in his hair. Lifting his head, he kissed her again, their lips clinging. “Are you all right, Eliza?”
“Oh yes,” she whispered.
He moved then, easing out of her body and back in slowly. The rasp of her breathing increased with every thrust.
She clung to him, and the world narrowed until all he knew was the heat of her and the sound of her breath against his ear.
“Look at me,” he whispered because he needed to see her face then.
She did, and their eyes locked and held. Mungo thrust into her again and again, drawing sounds from Eliza that made his blood turn molten. He felt the moment she shattered as she cried out his name, and then he lost his own control a heartbeat later.
They rode the wave of ecstasy together, and when it was over, their harsh breathing filling the room, he didn’t roll away, instead bracing himself so he wouldn’t crush her and letting his forehead rest against hers.
“You’re heavy,” she murmured.
He eased out of her carefully, then gathered her against his chest. Eliza fit along him perfectly, her breath warm against his throat. His hand drifted down her spine without thought, soothing both of them.
Outside, dark pressed against the glass. Mungo knew this moment would be etched in his mind, and what terrified him most was that he wanted it to be something he never forgot. Perhaps even something they shared together often.
“Mungo?”
“Aye?”
“Do you regret it already?”
His entire body went still. “Do you believe I would?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “My uncle said any man would take what I offered in the moment and think better ofit afterwards, as Niall did when he asked him if he would wed me.”
He swore under his breath, a long, vicious sound. “I’m going to find this man one day.”
“He is far away.”
