Page 18 of A Bride for the Wicked Highlander (Daring a Highland Laird #2)

M addie couldn’t help it. When Oscar was near her, tempting her, it was impossible to maintain any sort of reason or sense. Just the promise of his touch, his kiss, emptied her mind of everything but him, and the lessons that he could teach her.

And she had craved his proximity, only realizing the true sting of his avoidance now that his closeness had begun to soothe it.

She kissed him with heated abandon, grasping fistfuls of his shirt, running her hands up the sides of his neck, tangling her fingertips in his silky hair, dispensing with that thing called “better judgment”.

Grace had dared her to do the opposite of what she would ordinarily do, and she would not lose her dare.

I should leave. I should push him away. I should be as far from him as possible, her common sense urged her with each frantic press of her lips against Oscar’s, not realizing that it was merely giving her guidance on what not to do. She would do the opposite, just as she’d promised.

Just then, he stopped abruptly, breathing hard as his gray eyes met hers.

She peered up at him, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Had she not begged intensely enough? Or was this her punishment for shoving him away from her the previous night, only allowing her a taste of what he could do to her?

He drew back, leaving her against the wall, her hand flying to her chest to try and calm the thudding of her heart.

But he didn’t go far, retrieving a length of ribbon that had been draped across a nearby chair, forgotten in the haste of the guests’ departure.

“Come here,” he commanded.

Swallowing thickly, her head swimming, Maddie did as she was told, crossing to where he stood before the ornate fireplace. He didn’t speak as he took her by the hand and sat her down on the empty chair, sinking to his knees before her, as he had done on the night he agreed to marry her.

Keeping his gaze locked with hers for a moment, conveying that this wasn’t over, he grasped her by the wrists and moved her arms behind her, behind the back of the chair.

She didn’t try to resist as he curved his arms around her in a strange embrace, his stomach pressing against the peaks of her knees.

Oh...

Her breathing faltered as she felt slippery silk wrap around her wrists, replacing the rougher touch of his former grip, and realized what he was doing.

He was tying her to the chair. Her usual instincts screamed for her to get out of there, to tell him to stop, but that wasn’t the agreement she’d made to herself and to Grace.

Let me just see where this leads... just for a moment.

As he fastened a tight knot, she tested the strength of the bonds with a light pull, and knew she wasn’t going anywhere until he allowed it. Rather than fear, a thrill thrummed through her, a tremor of longing ricocheting through the very center of her being.

All at once, Oscar’s mouth found hers again, his kiss wild and ravenous.

She kissed him back with equal fervor, pulling at her restraints, understanding implicitly why he’d bound her: he was allowed to touch her, but she wasn’t allowed to touch him.

A compromise to the wager they’d made. A compromise, because she’d said “please.”

As his tongue danced with hers, his breath as ragged as her own, he grabbed the fabric of her gown and gathered her skirts up to her thighs.

Roughly, he pushed her legs apart and, still on his knees, moved into the space between them, his arm quickly wrapping around her waist to pull her flush against him.

He kissed her harder, her hips subconsciously rocking to the rhythm of his mouth on hers, needing to be nearer still. Needing to touch what she’d been forbidden from touching, soaring to a particular kind of delicious madness that made her want to beg, after all.

Slowly, he drew his lips away from her mouth, kissing along the line of her jaw and down the curve of her neck. His tongue tasted her smooth skin as if he truly meant to devour her, guiding the graze of his lips down the column of her throat and over the ridge of her collarbone.

She gasped as he traced his kisses across her chest, his hand pulling down the edge of her neckline. For a moment, she feared he meant to rip her precious gown, but he must have felt her stiffen in silent protest, as his hand cupped the swell of her breast instead.

Grasping that rounding of silk and soft flesh in his large hand, he kissed her hungrily, sliding his tongue down the front of her stays until lightning suddenly exploded within her.

His tongue had brushed against her nipple, pulses of bliss bounding within her chest, tightening the muscles of her stomach, bringing a stifled moan to her lips.

Glancing down, she glimpsed the pert peak, a second before his mouth closed over it.

She bucked her hips as he sucked, conjuring a faint prickle of pain that swiftly transformed into a flurry of the most exquisite, overwhelming pleasure. As if he knew just how to balance the two: pleasure and pain, letting the latter intensify the former.

“Oh...” she panted, throwing her head back. “Yes, my laird.”

“Oscar,” he growled, his hand skimming down the curve of her waist, pushing her further into the back of the chair. “Ye’ll call me by me name.”

She moaned her agreement as his kiss ventured back up to her mouth, catching her breathy sighs as his hand gripped her bare thigh, his fingernails just digging into her flesh.

“Yes, Oscar... oh, yes...” she rasped, her voice thick with desire, as his hand slid further up her thigh.

The first brush of his fingertips against her crackling bundle of nerves was the closest she had ever come to a true epiphany. All she’d ever known about the world turned on its head; everything she’d never known suddenly unveiled to her.

She believed in evidence and fact, staunch in her opinion that something had to be proven, but this defied all explanation. This was magic in reality. This was a phenomenon, and she was the explorer who had discovered it.

She strained more insistently against her bonds, desperate to run her fingers through his hair, to feel the friction of her palms across his skin, to pull him to her. But he’d tied the ribbon tightly, allowing her none of that satisfaction... just the pleasure that he decided she should have.

As his mouth traced her throat, his kisses leading upward, she shivered with thunderous bliss as she heard his ragged breaths. The sound of him was almost as potent as the touch of him.

Slowly, he circled her sensitive bud, while his teeth raked over the velvety flesh of her earlobe.

That faint bristle of pain combined with the rising pleasure between her thighs brought his name to her lips, her head spinning, every sense and nerve and vein and limb more alive, more awake to the world than it had ever been.

It was as if she was somehow directly connected to the earth, and it was sharing its most wondrous secrets with her: all the things that couldn’t be found in books or lectures, or in the mahogany auditoriums of stuffy universities.

“Oh... oh... Oscar...” she rasped, feeling a shift in the air as he let his fingertips glide through the slick folds of her.

His thumb strummed her bundle of nerves, light and teasing, while his fingertips paused at the gateway to her entrance. Asking permission without saying a word, giving her the choice despite the fact she was tied to a chair, and he could have done anything he wanted to her.

And I wouldn’t stop you.

Or, perhaps, he wanted her to beg again.

“Yes,” she murmured, biting her lip. “Yes, Oscar.”

His mouth claimed hers, fierce with yearning, as he eased a finger inside her. The sensation made her freeze, a cry of pleasure stuck in her throat. She’d never felt so much at once before, her brain faltering, as if bliss itself was staging a coup, taking over her completely.

A second finger joined the first, his mouth catching hers, his tongue searching.

She moaned against his lips as she kissed him back, moving to the rhythm that his hand on her hip commanded, while his other hand performed intricate sorcery.

He was in complete control, her body responding to his talented touch as if he were speaking a language that only she understood.

A language designed for her and her alone.

Arching her back, lost in the intensity of him, Maddie felt transcendent. The strum of his thumb, the pulse of his fingertips within her, the fire of his kiss; it was enough to make her explode, though she had no idea what would happen if she did.

Would she shatter into a million stars? Would she emerge from the Great Hall as a different woman entirely? Would she be all aglow, imbued with the secrets of the universe?

As if to answer her question, a delicious shiver vibrated upward from the endless current of pleasure that existed between her thighs.

The feeling meandered up into her belly, connecting with the rush of bliss that swirled there, adding fuel that detonated her ecstasy entirely.

The final spark that would shatter her and put her back together again, in the most extraordinary way.

“Oh!” she cried out, her hands clenching into fists as her entire body responded to the feeling, every muscle tightening. “Oh... oh yes, Oscar... yes!”

Euphoria in its rawest form transformed her. It surged through her veins, stealing the breath from her lungs and all thoughts from her mind. It made her heart race so fast she worried it might never slow again, her legs shaking violently, her head pounding with the sheer force of that feeling.

As if he knew she would need her mouth to breathe, Oscar dipped his kiss to her neck, tasting the sheen of sweat that glossed her skin, his teeth grazing as if he meant to bite. Not once pausing in his talents, guiding the flow of her bliss along with his exquisite touch.

“Louder,” he whispered against her throat.

She surrendered, releasing the last of her inhibitions, crying out with absolute ecstasy as she chased the last throes of her climax.

His kisses were her reward for being so brazen, his other hand tight upon her waist, pinning her to the back of the chair.

Perhaps, he was concerned she might break free at the last moment and touch him in return.

All too soon, the might of her climax ebbed into a pleasing crackle of satisfaction, every speck of her skin sensitive to the slightest touch. She relaxed against the chair, her neck resting on the top of it, a grin stretching from ear to ear as she looked breathlessly up at the rafters.

It was the finest education she’d ever received, on a subject she had never thought could capture her interest. And now that she’d been given an introduction, she wasn’t sure she would ever want to stop learning.

Happy wedding day to me... Yes, happy wedding day indeed.