Page 34 of A Bride for the Wicked Highlander (Daring a Highland Laird #2)

T hey stumbled through the door of Maddie’s private bedchamber, cut off from the rest of the manor in a tower room where no one would disturb them.

Oscar kicked the door shut behind them, walking her backward until her shoulders hit the wall, kissing her all the while. She gasped against his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his shirt to pull him closer as she kissed him back with all the passion she possessed.

She’d dreamed of this so often in the past week that she still wasn’t entirely sure it was real. That was, until his teeth grazed across her lower lip, adding a touch of pain to the swell of pleasure, heightening it, letting her know it was no trick of the mind.

This is real...

She kissed him fiercely, letting go of her inhibitions, savoring every second of this dream come true.

His hands held her by the waist, pressing her into the wall, his hips moving to the rhythm of his fervent kiss.

Beneath his kilt, she felt him, hard against her, igniting her passionate curiosity all over again.

His hands smoothed upward, mapping the curves of her, pushing her arms up above her head. She crossed them as if waiting for a rope, feeling him smile against her lips.

With firm pressure, he pinned her arms to the wall with one hand around her wrists, but he sought no restraints. Instead, he began to unbutton her shirt, his mouth never leaving hers.

I can touch him now, she realized with a shiver of delight, taking his lead. Making use of the fistfuls of his shirt, she began to pull upward, freeing the fabric from the waist of his kilt.

She tugged until he had to pause in what he was doing, a smirk upon his lips as he took his shirt in his own hands and peeled it away from his body. He dropped it to the ground and gazed at her, giving her a moment, before his hands settled on his belt buckle.

“No!” she said urgently, meeting his lips with a fevered kiss as she took over, unfastening the belt herself.

She heard the hiss of the fabric dropping to the floor, and hardly dared to look, concentrating on the heat of his kiss instead. Yet, stripping him bare seemed to have unleashed something within him, an urgency, a need, that made her heart race and her breaths turn ragged.

Her shirt joined his, her stays removed with deft hands, but as his hands moved to the fastening of her trews, he sank to his knees.

Peering up at her, he grazed a kiss against the soft skin above the waistline and slowly began to peel the trousers down her thighs.

His mouth followed the fabric, leaving tingling kisses, his tongue tasting her sweet flesh.

Left then right, he raised her feet to pull the trousers free, tickling the side of her ankle with the brush of his lips.

Breathing hard, she looked down at him, marveling at the passionate dedication of him, leaving no part of her unkissed. And as she looked down, she saw what she hadn’t dared to before.

Oh goodness... Her bundle of nerves sparked in anticipation, sending a little shudder of bliss up into her belly.

Oscar seemed to hear its siren call, as his rough palm slid up her thigh to her stomach, exactly where that tingle of pleasure thrummed, and pressed her back against the wall. At the same moment, his tongue answered her secret bud, stoking the embers into a rising blaze.

“Oh, my love!” she cried out, tilting her hips forward to meet the glide of his tongue. “Oh... Yes!”

His fingertips eased through the already slick folds of her, circling her entrance, making her wait. A seductive warning that there were still some things he wanted to control, and could, whenever he wished to.

“I need to feel you,” she whimpered, overcome with desire. “Now”

All of a sudden, his tongue ceased its blissful rhythm. He stood up, making Maddie wonder for an awful moment if she’d said something wrong, done something wrong.

So, it was a soaring relief when he crushed a kiss to her lips and smoothed his hands over the swell of her backside, picking her up as if she weighed nothing at all.

Her legs locked around him possessively, her mouth eagerly meeting the ferocious hunger of his, gasping through each desperate graze as she felt his length brush against the heat of her sex.

He carried her over to the narrow bed, sitting down on the edge of it with her in his arms, entwined.

“Oh... Oh, my God...” she panted, the velvet stroke of his manhood moving against the pulse of her electric nerves, the friction so slow and intense that she thought she might explode there and then.

He cradled her face, gazing up into her pleasure-blurred eyes, and gently removed her spectacles. “I dinnae want them to get broken,” he said, leaning over to put them on her side-table.

She blinked, holding his face in her hands. “Thank you.”

“Can ye see me?”

“I can,” she replied, smiling.

He kissed her, catching her gasp as he moved again. “There might be some pain, lass. If it’s too much, tell me and we’ll stop. I’ll just make ye scream me name in another way.”

Breathless, she nodded. “I’m ready.”

Biting his lip as if it was already sweet torture, he lifted her up off his lap, his hands underneath the swell of her buttocks. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt him, thick and hard at her entrance, making her wonder how he could possibly fit.

“Sink down, lass,” he said in a husky voice. “Take yer time.”

She did as he asked, slowly lowering herself onto him, feeling him ease inside her for the very first time.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, her mind overwhelmed with the rush of pleasure and pain combined.

Not much pain, just a mild sting, soothed by the balm of ecstasy that shivered through her as she sank further down, drawing more of him, all of him, into the depths of her.

As he filled her to the hilt, she sat there in his lap, gasping for air.

She clung to him, her fingers in his hair, her fingernails digging into the muscle of his broad shoulder.

He didn’t move inside her, kissing her tenderly instead, tracing his lips across her neck, her throat, her jaw, her cheeks.

Giving her time to adjust to the feeling.

“Does it hurt?” he murmured, running a hand over the swell of her breast, dipping his head to take her nipple in his mouth.

She cried out, arching her back, trembling with a fresh rush of pleasure as her swollen bud accidentally brushed against him.

As he sucked upon her nipple, his hands sought the soft flesh of her backside once more, grasping as he pulled her forward. She raked her fingernails across his back as her bundle of nerves roared with wildfire, the friction exquisite, the forward sway of her hips chasing off the last of any pain.

Like any good scientist, she had a keen sense of what worked and what didn’t, prompting her to rock her hips forward again.

Oscar growled in the back of his throat, his hands controlling that sway, moving with her, urging her to grind herself upon him.

As if her pleasure was his pleasure, as if her ecstasy meant far more than his own.

What about this? she mused, bracing her hands against his shoulders as she slowly rose up... and slowly, torturously, sank back down again.

“Och, lass...” Oscar murmured, catching her mouth with his, tugging gently at her lip with his teeth, letting his tongue dance with hers.

She, on the other hand, couldn’t speak at all. The sensation of withdrawing to the last second, then taking the full length and breadth of him inside her once more was all-consuming, her very being transforming into a conduit of pure pleasure, white-hot and thrumming, while he was the source.

Overcome, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek to his, moaning her bliss. Needing to be utterly intertwined with him, until she didn’t know where he began and she ended.

They moved as one, his hands guiding her, her hips swaying and rising to the rhythm of their paired hearts. But as she began to shake with the delicious exertion, his arm suddenly locked around her waist, flipping her over onto her back.

The bed being as narrow as it was, there was no room for him to lie down with her. He didn’t seem bothered by that as he leaned over her, one hand cradling the back of her neck, the other braced against the mattress.

As he kissed her, he pulled back until she feared he might be about to withdraw completely. She kissed him harder, her hands seeking out the muscular contours of his backside, urging him to sink deep inside her once more.

He smiled. “Ye want me?”

“Yes!” she gasped desperately.

“Beg, love,” he said, dipping his head to kiss her throat. “Let me hear ye beg.”

“I want you!” she pleaded. “My love, please... let me feel you. Let me feel all of you.”

He eased himself into her depths, inch by glorious inch, giving her what she wanted. Letting her feel all of him, so she would know how perfectly they fit together.

“Yes,” she moaned, writhing.

His hips rocked in measured, tantalizing strokes, rising up at the last minute to create that maddening, wondrous friction against her bundle of nerves. With each thrust, with each spark he tossed upon that thrumming powder keg, she hurtled closer to her conclusion.

Perhaps, he heard the message of her body, perhaps he felt what was coming, for he smoothed his hand between them, running his callused palm down her stomach to the peak between her thighs.

He strummed her with his talented touch. With that, she soared, her climax striking like a summer storm, violent and beautiful.

Her body seized, her back arching up off the bed, taking him even deeper inside her. Her limbs shook, her heart beating so fast she thought it might stop, her head swimming, her lungs burning, her throat unleashing a strangled cry.

“Oh... Oh, my God...” She said a few other things that she’d never said in her life, things that made Oscar smirk as he plunged inside her, slowing the strum of his fingertips.

The grip of her pleasure slowly began to loosen, her body—entirely under the control of that sweet ecstasy—handed back to her authority bit by bit. Deep breaths shuddered from her lungs, her heart slowing to a normal pace, her muscles relaxing into the intense bliss of pure satisfaction.

As her head stopped swimming, dazed by paradise, she focused on Oscar’s measured thrusts. She couldn’t explain it, but she could tell he was about to withdraw, now that she’d had her pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” she urged.

He frowned. “I should, lass.”

“I don’t want you to,” she insisted, locking her legs around his waist. “This is our belated wedding night. I want everything I missed out on.”

He hesitated. “What about bairns?”

“I’ll take the chance,” she said, reaching up to hold his face in her hands. “Don’t stop, my love.”

She kissed him, and as she did, she felt him relent. His hips rocked forward, plunging into her once more, making her cry out her desire against his lips.

Her command seemed to have had an effect on him, as he scooped her legs over his shoulders and leaned in, each thrust so deep that her body trembled afresh.

Indeed, she wondered how many conclusions a woman was capable of having in one go, as she relished each pulsing spark that throbbed inside her veins.

His pace quickened, but his concentration wasn’t directed at his own pleasure. He kissed her thighs, brushed her hidden pearl with his thumb to make her buck, and bruised her lips with his fierce kisses as he thrust into her.

Then, a growl rumbled from his throat, his head turning to bite the soft flesh of her thigh, as a wave of pleasure washed over his face. His eyes closed, his grip on her legs tightening, as deep inside her, she felt him throb.

He thrust once, twice more, and then he stilled, panting hard against her thigh.

“Och, lass...” he murmured, collapsing on top of her as his arms slid underneath her.

He held her like that for a while, kissing her neck lazily. Until, with a satisfied groan, he pulled her up the bed and rolled them both onto their sides. There, he lay back with a smile on his face, his arm wrapped tightly around her.

Breathless and exhilarated, Maddie clung to him, curling into his side. Her fingertips traced lazy patterns across his chest, admiring the rise and fall.

“I love ye, lass,” he murmured, stroking her hair.

She peered up at him, so happy she could barely believe it. “As I love you.”

“Ye love me?” He smiled, his eyes gleaming with contentment.

She nodded. “I do.”

“Och, lass, I might have to show ye me gratitude all over again,” he said, hugging her tighter to him. “Maybe nae here, though.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I daenae fit in this bed,” he replied, chuckling. “And I want ye in mine. In ours.”

She laughed, realizing that it was a little cramped. If she hadn’t been flush to his side, she’d have surely fallen out the narrow bed, while his legs were bent at the knee so they wouldn’t be protruding off the end of it.

“Then... shall we go home?” she said.

He pressed a kiss to her brow. “Aye, lass, let’s go home. Once ye’ve had yer lessons with Mr. Fallow, I’ll take ye home.”

Her heart soared at the sweet gesture to satisfy her mind as well as her body, doubting that she could have loved him more than she did in that moment. It was one thing to be admired, but it was everything to be understood by the man who had her heart.

He didn’t want to compete with her passions or ask her to set them aside. Instead, he was content to be one of them.

“I love you,” she whispered, propping herself up to place a slow kiss upon his lips.

He smiled against her mouth, as he caught her around the waist and flipped her over. Pulling back for a moment, gazing deeply into her eyes, he whispered back, “I love ye more,” before his tempting kiss silenced any argument.