Page 80 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

"McTavish is nae listening if that's what ye’re worried about." He grinned slowly.

Fiona laughed and shook her head. "Och, it's nae as if the auld bodach can hear anyway!" she laughed. Slowly, she turned on the bed, ruffling her hair and spilling it all over the sheets.

Tantalized, Clyde leaned in, kissing her cheeks and nuzzling her neck.

Passion shot through her, the base of her muscles heating up. A flash of joy ran through her. Inside, she was pulsating. Buzzing and warm, Fiona brought his hand to her breast. Then she looked him in the eye.

"Ye’re nae coy," he said, a little surprised but not displeased. "So then, do ye have any other orders for me, milady?"

Clyde tipped his face with such insouciance that Fiona kissed him back. Quickly and instinctively, Clyde pushed forward, rolling her around and around. Hotly, he caressed her nipples, running his finger down her stomach.

His touch ricocheted through her like bullets; sudden, intense, and light. Pleasure leaped through her until she sighed aloud. Reaching out on the bed, Fiona felt like giving in and burying herself in his passion.

But it was her first time. Shyly, she looked up. Clyde had already begun unbuttoning her, his thick fingers fumbling with her straps. Fiona looked down, giggling.

"Here," she said, releasing a strap and then loosening her long wedding gown.

"Keen," he remarked, lowering his head once again to caress her. Of course, he was stopped by her undergarments. Amused, Fiona looked up once more.

"Dinnae fash, lad." She smirked. "There's only my shift an' bodice, och, an' one or two more layers for good measure..."

Clyde buried his face in her bosom, pulling and tugging at her undergarments. His urgency threatened the delicate fabric. Sitting up, Fiona pushed him aside.

"There," she said, removing her thin silk shift. Beneath was her bodice, trimmed with the finest lace and clan ribbons. Every inch of it accentuated her curves, pushing out her modest bosom into an hourglass shape.

Running his finger down along its ribbed edges, Clyde murmured approvingly, "Braw." His fingers stopped, alighting on the tartan ribbons at the side.

"Mrs. Greenock," he said, fondling her hair.

Fiona murmured, "Lady Greenock," and grinned. It was something she was still getting used to. Now she was the lady of not one, but two clans!

"On yer front," prodded Clyde, his curiosity knowing no bounds. Fiona turned, revealing the curve of her bottom, which glimpsed cheekily through the silk sheets. Testily, Clyde stripped them away. "Pfff," he said. "I didnae give ye permission tae get under there. I want tae look!"

He whipped off the sheet and ran his fingers admiringly over her hips. Pressing his face down, he murmured, "Braw!"

A tingle ran through Fiona, tickling her madly. Slowly, his fingers worked to bring her to total abandon, stroking back and forth until her insides burned.

"Dinnae stop," said Fiona, caught in the grips of wild emotion. Everything was flooding—her senses, her feelings, even her touch.

Laughing, Clyde sat back. "I've no intention of stopping, bonny lass," he sighed before returning to her. This time, he leaned over her, removing the lacing on her bodice very slowly.

Fiona felt a tremor growing; it beat like a heart in the center of her. The scent of his hair washed over her, and a dreamlike haze overcame her, sealed by the sweetness of his kiss.

Fiona's flesh rippled as he kissed his heady scent deep into her body.

"Take it off," she said, eyeing him with amusement. She glanced at his leine. His heavy brat had been dispensed with, but he still had a large plaid, covering everything that mattered.

She pulled him onto the bed, covering him with kisses. Fiercely, she tugged at the plaid. It was tougher than it looked, securely belted and wrapped tightly all around. Still, once it was off, there would be nothing there beneath to stop her passion.

And she couldn't wait! Feverishly, Fiona dispensed with his plaid. It took patience. Rolling him around, she unwrapped him like a treat, lustfully peeling back his plaid and driving her hand down into his chest.

The first time had been furtive, as if she should not have been touching him. But tonight, things were different. And Fiona meant to make the most of her time!

Then, from downstairs, a cheer erupted. Clyde paused, teasingly, as if someone was listening in. Knowing that he was only messing about, Fiona pushed him, squeezing her palms into his lush flesh.

"Oh," she murmured. He was springy and fresh, his firm, hard muscles emerging from his well-built chest. Before, she had been in a hurry. This time, she planned to take some time.

So, burying in deep, Fiona ran an index finger up and down him, rippling his beautiful flesh and sending an ache deep inside.