Page 33 of Trapped By the Exiled Bastard

Keir’s eyes darkened, and he took her hand. His skin was somehow both rough and smooth, and something sparked between them as he got to his feet. “Then who am I tae deny ye?”

Elin led him inside, stopping only to allow him to kick the door closed, and led him to the bed. She turned to face him and stepped into his kiss, closing her eyes as their tongues and mouths found their harmony. The urgency of the night before was not there; this was a languid, passion-filled certainty that awakened something new inside her. Not an itch to be scratched, but an eager pot waiting to be filled. She ended the kiss and stepped back, dropping his hand, and reached for the tie on his breeches.

“Nay,” he said, catching her hands again and kissing her knuckles. “Let me.”

Elin’s breath caught in her throat, but she did not object as he released her hands and moved to work on the ties of her dress. His kisses trailed her cheek to her ear as he worked, his breath warm as he whispered, “How are ye so perfect?” His lips found the crook of her neck, and she rolled her head to the side, her back arching toward him without her realizing as he nibbled and tasted, longing pooling between her legs as one hand held her up and the other released her from her dress. It fell away, pooling at her feet and leaving her only in her underskirt, her breasts bare and exposed.

She gasped as Keir lifted her bridal style, his arm catching her between her knees and the other supporting her back. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently, then sat beside her, staring down at her. Her nipples hardened, and her whole body shivered with its demand to be touched.

“How would ye like me tae please ye, m’lady?” he asked. His finger idly brushed the curve of one breast, then, achingly slowly, swirled around her nipple. She gasped, a desperate sound, as her body responded. “Do ye like that?”

She nodded, barely able to speak.

He arched over her and lowered his head, taking one nipple in his mouth and reaching for the other with his free hand, his tongue and fingers working in harmony. Shocks of pleasure and electricity shot through Elin, and it was all she could do not to cry out at the sensation. She gripped the sheets and gasped out his name.

Keir raised his head. She saw her own hunger shining back in his eyes, but there was a kind of restraint there too. “Tell me what ye want,” he whispered.

“I want ye,” she gasped.

“Ye want me where?” he asked. “Here?” He brushed her breast again. “Here?” His hand trailed up her leg, pushing up her underskirt to settled between her thighs, finding her dampness. His fingers traced the outside of her, tantalizing, never crossing the barrier. “How do I give ye the pleasure ye deserve?”

Elin could hardly breathe. Men had touched her, claimed her, before now, but never like this. Her body had never felt so on edge, so wound up, so desperate. But there was one thing they had never done, one thing she had heard the other women whisper about and wondered about when she was alone at night and dreaming of love. One thing she had mentioned only to one other man and been laughed at and shamed for wanting, enough that she had never even thought about it again.

But she trusted Keir, and, somehow, she knew that he was waiting for her words.

“I want ye tae taste me,” she breathed. “Like I did ye.”

It was all the invitation he needed. He kissed her deeply on the lips and then made his way down, pushing up her underskirt to fully expose her as he went. He took his time, gently kissing her thighs, before reaching the core of her. She shuddered and moaned as his tongue brushed against her, tightening her legs automatically. He hummed, the vibration almost sending her over the edge at once, and gently pushed her thighs apart, gripping them as he worked. His mouth moved against her, creating sensations she’d never known she could feel, a desperate, burning desperation with each lick and suck that sent her hands scrabbling on the sheets. Her head tossed, her hair tangling as she panted and moaned, sweat pooling between her breasts.

“More,” she urged, the word escaping from some dark center inside of her she hadn’t even known existed. “More.”

He rose from her, only to briefly meet her eyes, then released one of her thighs. Slowly, he pressed one finger into her, then another, curling deep inside of her, before lowering his head to return to his work. The combination of the sensations made it hard to see, and she cried out his name, her body writhing, burning, begging, her hips bucking against his hand and face, a frantic energy setting her ablaze.

Her legs wrapped around him, drawing him closer, demanding more, needing everything. All of her muscles grew tight, almost painfully so, and then, at the moment she thought she could bear it no longer, everything released.

Pleasure rolled over her, enveloping her, drowning her, and no air reached her as she blindly shouted her ecstasy. Her movements slowed, and Keir raised his head, his fingers still gently rubbing her until she let out a deep, contented sigh. He withdrew his hand then and moved to kiss her, very gently, once on the lips and once on top of her head.

“Are ye satisfied?” he murmured into her hair.

She’d never felt so satisfied, and yet even as she started to say it, the hunger came back, ignoring the tingling of the remaining pleasure as it sought out more. Elin reached for him and drew him down into a deeper kiss, her hands wordlessly scrabbling at the bottom of his shirt. Keir did not need direction this time. In one swift move, he pulled the garment off over his head, then stood to undo his breeches. While he did, Elin shrugged off her underskirt, wanting to be fully bare with him. He stood before her, naked and beautiful, and she reached for him.

“Are ye—” he started.

“Come here,” she commanded.

A smile played on his lips as he obeyed. Keir positioned himself on top of her and kissed her, then, slowly, with her guidance, found her entrance. He pressed into her, slowly filling her, and Elin had to fight her instincts to stop herself from pulling him deeper. Her hands found his hips, gripping as he entered her fully.

Then he began to move.

It was as though they had made love a thousand times before. Every touch, every movement, was a well-rehearsed dance, every sigh of pleasure and grunt of need the harmony of a well-known song. Their bodies slid against each other, slick with sweat and want and need, and they tasted each other greedily, hands exploring, whispers and cries tangling into the night. Keir kissed Elin’s mouth, her breasts, anywhere he could reach, and she matched him in kind, her mouth and fingers finding any part of him that she could. His thrusts were slow and steady, but soon they began to speed up and grow harder, more insistent.

Elin was ready this time when the pleasure began to build, and she made no attempt to resist it. She bucked more furiously against him, taking everything she needed because she knew he wanted nothing more than to give it. She spoke without hearing herself as her body burned, repeating his name or a sound or some prayer over and over, building and tensing and then releasing once more. The sweetness of the climax heightened as she heard him groan out her name and felt his warmth as he spent inside of her.

They lay there like that for some time, holding each other, neither needing to speak. Then, at last, he rolled off her, collapsing, exhausted, onto his back. She shuffled in the bed, moving her head to his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Is this what it is like, then?” she mumbled.

“What?” he asked.