“Ian!” she cried out, her hips coming off the ground, her hands holding his head to the very heat of her.
When the waves of pleasure subsided, she stared at Ian, in awe of the passion they ignited together.
She kissed him, her tongue flicking around his lips. He growled low in his throat as she slowly trailed her lips from his, placing seductive kisses from his cheek to his neck.
“I’m going to kiss you like you kiss me,” she breathed into his ear.
He moaned into her ear. “Och, aye, mo chridhe.”
She kissed him gently on his shoulders, her hands running up and down his chest as she kissed from his neck to his navel, paying attention to each of his nipples that stood as erect as hers.
She traveled the muscled length of his abdomen, circling his navel and grinning at his sharp intakes of breath and soft moans. With one hand fisted in the blanket, his other gently gripped the back of her head. Her confidence spiked, and she grew bolder. Moving lower, she lightly scratched down the length of his muscular thighs. She kissed his thighs, massaging the sinewy muscle, and then she traveled northward again, reaching his swollen member—the target all along. She licked from base to tip and kissed the top before wrapping her lips around the head. Having already done this before, she knew exactly what he liked. She sucked lightly and then moved down and up. His moans increased, and his hips bucked as she spread the same fire of pleasure he had with the velvety movements of her tongue.
She worked his length with her hand, her mouth meeting each stroke.
“Oh, God, Rhiannon…”
His moans spurred her on, and she sucked harder, faster, moaning against his thick length. His legs shook, and his grip upon her hair grew tighter, hips pumping with increased vigor. Then he cried out, his body stiffening, and she jerked his shaft from her mouth, warm fluid spilling over her hands.
Rhiannon grinned at him, fully satisfied to have been able to bring him to the point of shattering.
“Ye are an amazing and beautiful woman, wife.” He returned her grin.
“And you, Earl of Orkney, are an amazing, handsome man.” She lay beside him, trailing her fingers over his chest as he slowly caressed her hip. “Do I please you?”
“Och, aye, ye please me much. And what about me? Do I make a good husband?” He nuzzled against her neck.
She sucked in her breath at the feel of his mouth on her skin again, flames of heat igniting again so soon.
“I am more than pleased, Ian. You are everything I dreamed of,” she whispered.
“And ye are the only woman in the world who could break my vow of bachelorhood.”
Rhiannon laughed. “’Tis glad I am, or we’d have a problem.”
Ian laughed and rolled her onto her back, trapping her body with his. “Nay, no problems here.”
20
One month later
Balla Dorcha Castle, Orkney Isles
Rhiannon wiped the sweat from her brow. Ian was not letting up on her today, and she was glad for it. Every challenge brought out a new and improved skill from her.
“Your swordsmanship is superb, mo chridhe.”
His heart, she certainly loved the sound of that.
“Again,” she said, returning to a fighting stance.
Ian grinned, circling her, his wooden sword held out. Funny, he fought with that and allowed her to use a real sword so she could understand the weapon's weight.
“My laird.” Their practice was interrupted by Mac, who was newly back from his voyage to Ireland to return the men who’d been recovering from the shipwreck since their ship had been unrepairable in the end.
“Aye, Mac?” Ian said, poking the tip of his wooden sword into the rushes of the great hall.
“A signal from Caithness. The signal.”
