Page 129 of The Laird’s Sinful Obsession

Alba moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her as he lavished attention on first one breast, then the other, his free hand sliding down to grip her thigh, hitching it around his hip.

She could feel the wetness between her thighs, the ache growing with every pull of his mouth, every rough stroke of his calloused fingers against her skin.

“Lachlann,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Please.”

He released her breast with a wet pop, his eyes dark as he straightened, his hands going to the belt of his kilt. The fabric fell away with a whisper, and his manhood sprang free, thick and flushed.

Alba’s body clenched in anticipation. She reached for him, her fingers wrapping around his length, stroking him from root to tip.

Lachlann hissed, his hips jerking into her touch, but he caught her wrist, stilling her.

He backed her toward the bed, his grip firm on her waist, and when the backs of her knees hit the mattress, he didn’t hesitate. He lifted her, tossing her onto the furs before following her down, his body covering hers, the weight of him pressing her into the softness beneath.

His manhood nestled against her slick folds, the heat of him almost unbearable.

“Tell me what ye want, Alba,” he demanded, his voice a rough whisper against her ear, his hips rolling just enough to make her gasp.

She didn’t hesitate.

“Ye.” Her hands slid down his back, her nails scoring his skin as she pulled him closer. “Now.”

Lachlann didn’t need to be told twice.

He shifted, the broad head of his manhood pressing against her entrance, and with one slow, deliberate thrust, he filled her completely.

Alba cried out, her back arching off the bed, her body stretching to take all of him. He was big, thick and long, the stretch burning in the best way, the fullness making her feel deliciously owned.

“Ye’re tight,” Lachlann groaned, his forehead pressing to hers as he held himself deep inside her, letting her adjust.

His hands slid under her, gripping her ass, tilting her hips just so before he pulled back and thrust in again, deeper this time.

Alba moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist, urging him on.

He set a rhythm that was steady and deep, each thrust dragging against that sensitive spot inside her that made her see stars. The fire crackled beside them, the heat of the flames nothing compared to the inferno building between their bodies.

Lachlann’s mouth found hers again, his kiss just as desperate as his fucking, his tongue mimicking the slow, deep strokes of his cock.

Alba met him thrust for thrust, her hips rolling up to meet his, her body moving in perfect sync with his.

“Alba,” he groaned against her lips, his pace quickening, his control fraying.

His hand slid between them, his fingers finding her clit, circling it in tight, relentless strokes. The dual sensation, his manhood pounding into her, his fingers working her, sent her spiraling.

Her body tightened, her walls clenching around him, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until she was trembling beneath him.

“Taegether,” she pleaded, her voice breaking.

She needed him with her, needed to feel him lose control just as she was.

“Always,” he promised, his voice a rough vow.

His thrusts turned erratic, his hips snapping against hers as he chased his own release.

Alba could feel him swelling inside her, his manhood pulsing as her orgasm crashed over her, her cry muffled against his shoulder as her body clenched around him, milking him.

Lachlann buried himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, his manhood jerking as he came, filling her in hot, thick spurts.

Alba wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him close as they rode out the last waves of pleasure, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.