Page 43 of Kilted Sins

With his fingers on the laces of her dress, Cillian paused, giving her a questioning look. Enya simply nodded, sitting up a little to allow him to undress her, and soon enough, Cillian had all but torn her clothes off her body, tossing them carelessly on the floor.

Eager as she was, she couldn’t stop herself from trying to cover her body with her arms, embarrassment flooding through her. Cillian took her hands in his, though, and moved them gently away, taking a moment to simply stare at her nude body.

“Ye’re so bonnie,” he said in a quiet, almost reverend voice, his lips moving over her skin as he dragged them over the swell of her breast. When they wrapped around her nipple, sucking gently at the pebbled flesh, Enya couldn’t help but moan and writhe against him, the sensation so foreign but at the same time so pleasurable that she had no control over her reaction. “I wish I could stare at ye forever.”

Enya trembled with need, Cillian’s touches and his words affecting her more than she could ever think possible. When he pulled away to peel off his own clothes, she couldn’t help but miss the heat of his body, her hands reaching for him to pull him back into her arms the moment he had shed off his last layer, fingers brushing softly over the grooves and valleys of his chest and stomach, admiring the shifting muscles under his soft skin.

Scars littered his torso, some small and others larger, some smooth and others with jagged edges. None of it retracted from his beauty, though. If anything, they only added to it, his body serving as a canvas for the story of everything he had been through so far. Enya only wished she could have known him sooner so that she could have spared him some of the pain, carrying it as her own.

As her hands moved lower and lower, so did her gaze, until it finally reached his manhood and her cheeks flushed a bright red. It was the first time in her life that she had seen a man nude and the sight aroused her as much as it flustered her and gave her pause.

While Cillian certainly had experience in such things, Enya didn’t know what to do and she despised the fact that compared to him, she was so inexperienced. Was she supposed to touch him? How could she give him pleasure, she wondered, when she didn’t even know what pleasure meant?

Perhaps sensing her turmoil, Cillian gave her a soft smile as he moved lower and lower down her body, settling between her legs. His lips pressed soft kiss after soft kiss to her thigh, teeth grazing gently over the sensitive skin there until Enya couldn’t help but squirm and writhe, her body asking for something she could not even identify.

She soon found out what it was, when Cillian dragged the flat of his tongue over her folds, forcing a broken moan out of her. In that moment, Enya didn’t know how she could have spent so many years of her life unaware of this kind of pleasure, which was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Wave after wave of it coursed through her body as Cillian teased her sensitive flesh, the wet heat of his tongue pulling moan after moan out of her and forcing her to clamp her hand over her mouth, fearful that someone could hear them. Pleasure coiled in her core, building higher and higher and radiating out to the rest of her body until she was a trembling mess, her fingers tangled in Cillian’s hair and her hips working ceaselessly on their own accord as her body sought out her release.

Suddenly, though, the heat of Cillian’s tongue was gone and Enya couldn’t help but let out a soft whine in protest. Cillian chuckled as he climbed up the length of her body, pressing his forehead against hers as he spoke softly.

“I willnae take ye if ye dinnae ask me,” he said. “I can bring ye more pleasure with me mouth if ye so wish an’ we can stop there.”

Enya considered it for a moment. The wise thing to do would be to choose the latter, to put an end to it before it got too far, but she wanted to be claimed by Cillian entirely. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to know what it felt like to be completely his, to belong to him even if it couldn’t last.

“Take me,” she said. “I’m yers.”

A rumbling groan reverberated through Cillian at her words and he wasted no time before he took himself in his hand and pressed the tip of his manhood against Enya’s folds. She gasped at the first contact, freezing for a moment, but Cillian—ever attentive—distracted her with a kiss, helping her relax as he finally pushed slowly inside her.

That sensation, too, was entirely unfamiliar, Enya’s walls stretching wide around his girth. A jolt of pain, then replaced by pure pleasure shook her entire body as Cillian pushed himself inside her to the hilt, filling her up completely. For a moment, Enya struggled to breathe, the sensation so overwhelming that she could only hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into the skin.

It felt right; it felt like they belonged together, and Enya pulled him impossibly close, the fingers of one hand brushing through his hair as the other wrapped around his, the two of them holding onto each other while their bodies rocked slowly together, finding their natural rhythm. Each groan from Cillian’s lips, each thrust of his hips, each ragged breath brought her more joy than she could have imagined.

For all she had tried to keep herself away from him and even hate him, Cillian had managed to worm his way into her heart and there was nothing left to do but admit her true feelings for him—if not to Cillian, then at least to herself.

I love him. I cannae help but love him.

The slick slide of their bodies, the way Cillian stared at her, his gaze so tender and adoring, had that pressure growing inside her once more. Every thrust felt more pleasurable, more urgent, all of them building up to the moment when her body seized, her climax crashing over her suddenly. Her core throbbed, her inner walls clenching tightly around Cillian’s length as her body went taut like a bowstring, back arching off the mattress.

Distantly, she heard Cillian curse and she looked down to see him pull out of her and spill over her thighs, reaching his own peak with a moan. Even then, her pleasure continued, wave after wave rolling slowly until it finally began to fade.

With a breathless laugh, Cillian collapsed next to her, rolling over to face her. The smile on his face was warm—loving, even.

It frightened Enya more than anything else.

“Are ye alright?” Cillian asked, a hand coming up to brush a stray strand of her hair away from her face.

This isnae the time tae tell him.

“Aye,” Enya said, returning Cillian’s smile, even though it pained her. “I’m alright.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Enya had tried telling Cillian the truth—she truly had. A whole day had passed since the night they had shared together, but she had hardly managed to see him at all since then as they were both too busy with the Yule preparations. Cillian had the added burden of figuring out the identity of the men who had attacked them and so Enya had hardly seen him at all.

Nay, the truth is I havenae tried enough.

If she truly wished to speak to him, then she could have tracked him down and given him the identity of her attacker, but she was too much of a coward to do such a thing. The reality was that she didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want Cillian to find out the truth, as then he was bound to be furious and the feelings that had blossomed between them would wilt, at least on his part. Enya didn’t think she could bear it and so she delayed the inevitable as much as she could.

At dinner the previous night she had used the excuse of a headache to retire early to her room and he had obviously not wanted to disturb her sleep during the night.