She stood before the bed and faced him. Gripping one of her laces between her thumb and forefinger, she tugged at the woven thread, releasing her fitted bodice so her firm breasts settled against the fabric of her chemise. She loosened the rest of the laces, then slipped her fingers under the neckline of her chemise and worked it down over her hips to her feet.
There she stood in her naked glory, and his eyes raked over her, hungry and eager.
She was a vision, a cinnamon-haired selkie rising from the depths. Her loose hair fell around her shoulders in russet brown waves, contrasting against her moonlit-pale skin. The pink buds of her breasts tightened against the cool air, and his cock throbbed under the folds of his kilt, his desire for her flaring and overwhelming him.
Blair then reached out her hand, and Reade stepped forward, mesmerized.
Her nimble fingers unhooked his wide leather belt, letting it slip from her fingers to join her clothing on the floor. His plaid hugged his hips, and with a sweep of her hand at the tartan swath on his shoulder, the entire piece joined his belt. Reade moved to lift his tunic, but her hands grasped his, then grabbed the hem of his tunic and lifted it over his head.
Then he was as bare as she. His manhood had engorged while she had stripped him, yet he didn’t reach for her. Blair had taken the lead, and he wasn’t going to interrupt her.
Her fingertips trailed over his skin as his tunic fell to the floor, moving from his chest, tickling down his belly and brushing across his eager cock before caressing his hip. She walked behind him, tracing the hard curve of his buttocks, up his back, tracing several of his thin scars earned in fights and battles, then down his arm and back around to his front.
He shivered under her enticing caresses, and by the time she faced him again, all he wanted to do was push her down onto the bed and sink his cock into her sheath to his root.
Reade put out his hands to embrace her and do that, but she placed her hands atop his and pressed them down.
“Please, Blair. Look what ye’ve done to me.” Reade’s plea was more of a growl.
Her fingertips touched his chest again, dead center. “No’ yet,” she told him.
She moved her face to his chest, kissing the place where her fingertips had been, at the cleft of his broad chest muscles. He shuddered at the gentle caress of her lips, the surprising intimacy of that simple kiss. Her lips dragged downward from his chest to his belly until she was kneeling in front of him, her lips on his manhood.
“Blair! What are ye –?”
Her hand, which had curved around his bare buttock, patted him. Like she was comforting him!
“Lass,” he tried again, grabbing at her shoulders.
Her other hand slid under his cock to cup his ballocks, and he inhaled sharply, the sensation of her soft palm handling his most intimate man-parts rattled him. Yet he widened his stance to give her better access for whatever it was she planned to do.
“Blair,” he rasped out again, futilely. “Let me take ye to bed –”
She shook her head and nuzzled her cheek against his cock.
“Nay. Ye shared something deep and painful. I would give ye pleasure to help you recover from that. I would take your thoughts away, to replace those dark memories with other ones.” Then she dragged her tongue down his length, and his cock flexed at her attention. He groaned and his brain spun.
“Lass, ye canna conceive what my other thoughts are.”
She licked at his purplish, bulbous head, and his knees went weak. He grabbed the stout bed post with one hand and her head with the other. He’d intended to rip her head away and shove her onto the bed, but he found his body wouldn’t obey the weak strands of thoughts that managed to break through the fog. The bed provided the leverage he needed to support himself as her lips and tongue worked their exquisite torture at his groin.
In a sudden rush, his ballocks flexed, his seed ready to spill into her mouth if she didn’t stop.
But God save him, he couldn’t tell her to stop.
“On the bed,” he finally managed to growl as he held back the tide of bursting ecstasy rippling under his skin. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “On the bed,now.”
Reade didn’t wait for her to obey. He grabbed Blair under her arms and threw her atop the coverlet, her legs splayed wide, her russet curls that covered her sheath an invitation, nay ademandto enter. And Reade entered with a deep groan, driving himself to the hilt in a smooth, quick thrust.
Blair arched at his entry, and he slid his hand under her lower back, pressing her hips into his to drive him even deeper. Beads of sweat sprouted on his forehead as he thrust in and out, and a sheen of perspiration covered Blair. She reached her hands into the bedding above her head, clenching it with eager hands, giving her something to hold on to as he used her body with wild abandon. She panted and mewled as he pounded and pounded and pounded, so close already, so close. . .
Her eyes had closed as she relished in their joining. Reade curled over her and looked directly down on her face. “Open your eyes,” he commanded, and her eyes shot open. “I want ye to look at me when I take ye. Look at me when I pour myself into ye.”
He gritted his teeth and dropped his chin to his chest as his mouth fell open, his moment rising and rising until he was certain his ballocks would burst. Yet they held each other’s gaze the entire time, and it was like her gaze looked past him, below his skin and touched his heart. In this moment, they were truly one.
Then his ballocks did burst and his cock flexed and flared deep in Blair, pouring his essence inside her with shuddering release. She keened and cried as he came, and once he was empty, he was done. Reade fell forward, catching himself on the bedding with one hand. He didn’t withdraw right away, he couldn’t. His cock was far too comfortable right where it was.
He panted as he bent over her, trying to recollect himself. Blair fixed her deep blue gaze on him, and a sultry smile curved on her lips. She had taunted him and teased him to the brink, and she knew it. And she enjoyed his torture.
