He chuckled, his hand now trailing over her hip and across her still shaking belly. “No, but we do enjoy them.” He waggled his brows at her. “And every Scotsman worth the name has his own special way of bringing his lady to her peak.”
Her brows rose. “Really? And how do they learn such a thing?”
“It’s a secret handed down from father to son on the eve of his wedding.”
“Then how do you know such a thing?”
He grinned. “I might have learned it early.”
She snorted. “I bet you did.”
His expression sobered at her tart tone. “In all honesty, Clara, I learned by talking to a woman who cared to teach me. But if you think I have been hopping from bed to bed in pursuit of this, then you have the wrong of me. I had better things to do with my time.”
She touched his face. A single finger stroked along his jaw, fire trailing in her wake, while her gaze met his and held. “You are the most interesting man I have ever met.”
High praise coming from her. “How can that be?”
“I do not know. Perhaps it is because I never know what you are going to say. And I cannot guess what you are going to do.”
“Can’t you?” he asked as he stroked beneath her shift to cup her breast. “Surely you know what comes next.”
She smiled, a lazy happy smile that bewitched him. “Not exactly,” she said. “But I like that you have pulled up my shift, I like the way your callouses feel against my skin, and I cannot stop thinking about your kisses. I have let no one but you touch me like this. I have never kissed anyone the way I kiss you.”
She could not have said anything more erotic. In that moment, he wanted her as a drowning man wants air. He wanted to work by her side and sleep in the same bed. He wanted to spill his seed inside her and meet the child that would be as much her as him. He wanted her as his wife and so he set about showing her. But he could not do as he willed with her shift between them, so he tore it apart with his bare hands.
Then he kissed the hard peak of her breasts, laving her nipple with his tongue, and sucking it hard while she gasped in surprise. He spent a great deal of time on her breasts. He liked how she arched against him, and he loved how her legs twined with his.
It was no easy feat to pull off his own clothes. He feared she would change her mind if he left her body for even a second. Such was his need for her that any hope of common sense was lost. He tossed aside his boots and socks while she sat up and pulled off her shift. But as he unwrapped his kilt from his own body, she draped it across hers. She covered her groin first, hiding her wet curls from him. Then she teased it across her breasts.
She meant to throw it aside, but he caught the end and wrapped her tighter and tighter in its length until she appeared bound in his clan colors.
“Lie down, lass,” he said as he tugged his tartan toward the bed.
She let him do it, laughing lightly as she landed. “It’s like I’m surrounded by you,” she said as she toyed with the ends.
He tried to laugh then. He wanted to match her ease, but hunger had claimed him. His hand slipped between her knees, coiling around her thigh as he squeezed her flesh. “Kiss me,” he said as he leaned over her.
She did. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him with all the passion he wanted. And while their tongues dueled, his hand rose between her thighs. His knee followed to hold her open. And when his fingers cupped her sex, she clutched his shoulders in surprise.
“Am I going to feel it now?”
“Yes.”
He stroked her, his pace slow while his fingers remained thorough. He spread her open, he pressed his fingers inside, and he painted her with her own moisture. She liked it when he drew everything high to her clit. She arched when he plunged back into her. And she whimpered when he stopped for a moment, just to see her there, open to his touch and wrapped in his kilt.
“I would you never wore anything else.”
She had no breath to answer as he increased his tempo. He watched her passion grow, and it was the most glorious sight. Wrapped in his kilt, she undulated, pressing up against his hand when he was at her clit and seeming to pull him inside when he plumbed her depths. She threw back her head, her eyes were wide as she stared at nothing, and he saw her naked belly between the wrap of his kilt as it fluttered and flexed.
He took her to a faster pace, a wilder place, and when she finally came it was as if her whole body exploded with wild abandon. He nearly came from watching her. And, because his fingers were deep inside her, he felt the waves she rode. Tight then release, tight then release, pulse after pulse while she smiled as if he hung the moon and the stars for her.
He’d certainly try.
And when she finally rested, she stretched like a satisfied cat and curled her body around his.
“Now I know,” she said.
“Now you know,” he echoed.
