He grins, tears off a chunk, then laughs as I swat him. “The noises you make when you bite into one every morning haveimplanted themselves in my brain.” He pops the chunk into his mouth, then licks his fingers. “And I have ulterior motives.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Which would be?”
My quiet friend disappears, replaced by the wild beast who’s been fucking me senseless for the past week. I very much welcome his return. “Finish your scone and I’ll show you.”
I do as he says, liquid heat coursing through my veins. I throw in a few delighted moans, just to watch his eyes flash with desire. Once I’m done, I barely have a chance to brush the crumbs off my hands before he sweeps me up and carries me to the altar.
He removes my cloak and tosses it to the floor. Very unlike my clean, fastidious knight. I chuckle softly as he nestles between my spread thighs, clasping my face in his strong hands. Hands that could crush my skull without a second thought, yet have touched me with such tenderness.
He sucks on my lower lip, and I offer him one of those whimpers he loves so much. “I promised you something on the night of your lesson.” He kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, as his fingers unlace my shirt and slip the collar down off my shoulder, exposing a single breast. “Forgive me for not fulfilling it until now.”
“What does that?—”
I gasp as he squeezes my nipple, just hard enough. Right at the edge of what he knows I can take.
“You’re my favorite subject, Charlotte,” he breathes into my ear, circling a fingertip over where he just hurt me, easing the sting. “I could spend forever learning the shape and sounds of you.”
The braying laughter of Áine’s knights seeps through the church windows, along with the flickering light from their bonfires. I hope none are inspired to seek quiet refuge in this church or …
I can only imagine what the consequences of getting caught fucking my bodyguard would be. Though at this moment, with Lachlan caressing me like I am his most treasured object, I cannot honestly say I care.
He unlaces my trousers, moves his hand into my panties, and as he teases me open, I moan. Loudly. He buries my face in his neck to muffle it, chuckling. “When did you get so mouthy, little queen? If you want me to do this, you’ll have to be quiet. Can you?”
No lies. We promised. So, I shake my head against his throat, savoring the salt and woodsmoke scent of his skin. If I’m moaning this loudly from such a simple touch, there’s no telling what other primal sounds he might coax from me.
He pulls my head back and smirks. “Guess we’ll have to improvise.” He dashes off the altar to grab the linen napkin, then folds it into a triangle as he returns. He holds it up to my mouth. “Open.”
I lower my jaw with no hesitation, relishing the happy spark that brightens his eyes at how well I follow his instructions. This is all I want to do. To make him look at me like that, always. To please him.
He places the napkin between my teeth, then ties it at the back of my head, tight, but not enough to hurt. “Bite down on this when you need to.”
I push my tongue against the soft cloth, and liquid spills between my thighs at the restriction.
“If you want me to stop, just tap me twice on the shoulder, like this.” He demonstrates, a wicked smile overtaking his handsome face as he peels off my trousers and panties, then kneels beneath me.
My heartbeat spikes. I know exactly what he’s planning, cannot help the grin that pulls my lips tight around the napkin.
He glances up at me, biting his lip to hold back his laughter. “You want this that badly?”
I nod furiously, and his laugh breaks free as he skates his hands up my thighs. I quiver, placing my palms on the altar behind me. He spreads my legs apart, then pulls my hips to the edge. Right where he can reach me.
And see me.
He spends a long moment just staring, holding my thighs open. As if I am as worthy of worship as the missing idols who once guarded this holy place. He’s rubbing circles into my flesh, squeezing hard. Like he can’t help himself. I hope he leaves marks.
I’m whimpering into the napkin, wondering what he’s waiting for. I want to beg, to plead, but I am literally gagged. He’s in total control. With anyone else, I might be terrified. But Lachlan always takes care of me. Gives me only as much as I can handle and nothing more.
And he was right, of course. This is where the pleasure heightens. In the anticipation.
He covers his mouth, murmuring something in his language. Something soft and reverent.
When our gazes reconnect, I swear I feel the ground shift. “You’re a wonder, Charlotte. Brave and talented and brilliant and beautiful. I hope your husband tells you that every day.”
I refuse to examine why my chest aches, my eyes burn, and my throat swells closed. He probably knows, but lets the moment pass.
And then his tongue is in my cunt, and the tears wetting my cheeks are for a different reason entirely.
He snakes an arm around my thigh, holding me open while he uses his other hand to spread my lips apart. His tongue dips in and out of me in a slow, steady rhythm, and it’s so bloody good—but it’s not enough. I want to roll my hips against his face, but with the way he’s pinned me, it’s impossible.
