Chapter Nineteen
Liam carried herto the stream and welcomed the cool slice of water across his overheated body. She gasped when he lifted her, but quickly threw an arm around his shoulders and laughed when he stumbled across a sunken branch. He might have dropped her then, but she braced them both with a quick hand on a nearby rock.
Perfect. Because as he lay her body in the wet, she was already open with one hand down and the other gripping him. She had to brace her legs given the bumps in the stream while he set his knee between her thighs and set to work caressing every part of her body.
She laughed as he splashed water over her breasts, and the sound mixed perfectly with the sparkle of waterdrops on her flesh.
“I can wash myself,” she said as she struggled to sit upright.
“But I’d much rather help you,” he said, as he gently pressed her down. “Lie back, luv. Feel the sweetness wash over you.”
With his help, she lay back and the water quickly sorted her hair out into long streams beside her. She closed her eyes and sighed with true delight.
“It’s like everything is washed away,” she murmured. “The aches, the cares, even my thoughts.” She flowed her fingers through the current. “I want to stay here forever.”
So did he. Her nipples were tight, tempting nubs. Her belly rippled in the moonlight. And her mons was dark, wet, and so accessible to his fingers. But most of all, he appreciated the way her legs moved around him, coiling up thigh to thigh, or teasing her toes along his calves. She was ready and open to him, and yet so at ease that he smiled.
“I like you this way,” he murmured. His fingers traced the dappled shifts of moonlight across her belly. And when he continued the motion to her breasts, she exhaled as if she had been waiting for just this moment.
He indulged himself with the shaping of her breasts. He loved how they fit in his hand, adored the sounds she made as he tweaked her nipples, and the taste of them made his body thrum with hunger. She arched into his mouth as he suckled her. Her legs became restless as she alternately squeezed his hips or scraped along his calves. Her hands came up to grip his head, burrowing into his hair as she pulsed with need.
So fast, so hot, so welcome. She was a responsive lover and he had been long denied. He lifted off her nipples while she clutched him in her impatience. He stretched up her body to kiss her, tasting the freshness of the stream on her lips. She met him taste for taste, and his whole body tightened when she thrust her tongue at him.
“Is it always like this?” she gasped when he pulled back.
“With you, it is.”
Unable to resist touching her, his hands had found her breasts again. He watched her stretch beneath his touch and when her hips lifted, he stroked downward. Both his thumbs slid between her nether lips. He pushed at her in every way possible, opening her wide, pushing upward to hear her cry out, and then inside. She wanted everything he did, every touch and press, and he marveled at her beauty in the moonlight. She pulsed with unfettered enjoyment.
He settled her legs on his shoulders, then lifted her up so that he could taste her pleasure.
He licked her. He thrust his tongue deep inside her. And he coiled his tongue over and around her nub. He watched her the entire time. He saw the way her body shivered, the way her breasts thrust to the sky, and he saw her mouth open on a soundless cry.
He tongued her slow, then fast. Then faster still. She writhed in pleasure. And when he thrust hard against her nub, she shattered like a bow pulled taut and then released. Not once, but time and time again.
He kept at her as long as he could hold her. He would see her pulsing like this for hours if he could. But neither of them could sustain it for that long.
In time, she wiggled out of his grip. She collapsed backward into the stream. Her arms and legs were akimbo. Her skin was flushed red. And her mouth curled in such womanly delight, that he felt proud that he had brought her to such a place.
He stroked the outside of her thighs as she still quivered. He pressed a kiss to her belly as she gasped. And he widened her legs as he set his throbbing cock at her entrance.
“Say it, Clara,” he urged as he pressed his tip to her wet entrance. “Say it and be mine.”
“What?”
“I have courted you as I have no other woman. I want you as I have never wanted anything before.”
Her expression softened as she touched his cheek. “Liam,” she whispered, and he gloried at his name on her lips.
“Clara, you have caught me as a man on your hook. I am yours.”
“Yes.”
“Yes,” he echoed. “You are my wife. And we will flourish here as will our babes.”
Her eyes widened as he spoke, and she frowned. “No babies,” she said.
He should have thrust inside and been done with it. She’d said yes and they were wed by Scottish law and her own admission. And yet, he could see the denial in her eyes.
