Page 150 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

"How shameless you are, m'lady," he purred, his grinning lips kissing her lightly.

"I am. I admit it." She tugged his kilt upwards and slid her hand underneath to take hold of him. She stroked his silken skin and stone hardness.

He groaned. "Keep doing that, and I'll nay be responsible for my actions," he warned.

"But, m'laird, you are injured and not able." She blinked her lashes with faux naïve innocence.

He snorted. "We both ken the solution to that, do we not?" He winked, then pulled her on top of him.

She gasped, pretending shock, then leaned forward and kissed him, unable to get enough of his lips. His hands caressed her derriere through the material of her dress, increasing her need. He tugged up her skirts by slow degrees until his hot, roughened hands were gently stroking her bare skin. He dipped his fingers downward across the sensitive, wet center of her. She gasped.

He moaned and ground himself against her, through the material. "Ride me, lass," he hissed.

Raising up, she finished moving his plaid and her petticoats out of the way. Fascinated by the hard, silken feel of him, she stroked.

"Elsea," he grated, eyes dark as midnight. "You're torturing me."

She positioned him at the entrance to her core, gasping at how amazing he felt.

"Guide me inside you." His jaw clenched hard, a fine sheen of sweat on his stubble-covered skin.

She pushed down on him, and he slid in a few inches. She gasped at the stunning and beautiful feel of him.

With a harsh groan, he thrust his hips, imbedding himself deeper.

She cried out at the incredible pleasure.

"Shhh." He chuckled, a rich, deep sound. "They'll come running, thinking I'm murdering you."

Her face blazing, she laughed. "I should've barred the door."

"Too late for that now," he growled. "I'm nay leaving your body until we're both spent."

She propped her hands beside him on the bed, then lifted and lowered herself on him, allowing him to glide easily.

His eyes grew even darker, if such a thing were possible, and his lashes lowered halfway as he gazed into her eyes. "Aye, lass. Harder," he gritted out between his teeth. "Faster."

She tried to, but she was no expert. She wanted him to take control, if he was able.

"Is that hard enough?" she asked, teasing, knowing it wasn't.

"Nay. Ride me like that damnable horse you're so fond of. Pretend you're galloping across the moor."

She gasped in uncontrollable laughter.

"Saints! You're killing me, lass, with your gentle...."

He grasped her to him and flexed his hips, driving up into her hard over and over, capturing her lips.

An overwhelming magnitude of pleasure stole her mind and her thoughts. She was immersed in the stunning ecstasy of Brodie. Crying out, she spiraled through a stunning climax that took her breath, not once but twice. On the second one, Brodie growled with his release.

In the aftermath, they both breathed hard as if they'd been racing up a hill. He muttered a few amazed curses. "Unbelievable. Every time with you gets better and better."

"Oh, aye," she agreed, lying on his chest.

"Ruskin saw us, but we're fully covered by your skirts."

"What?" she gasped, heat washing over her. Lifting up, she twisted to stare at the closed door.