Page 27 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander (Falling for Highland Villains #4)

CHAPTER 27

Murdoch carried Cecilia to the nearest wall, pinning her against it as her legs wrapped around his waist. She gasped as her shoulders hit the stone, but she had no time to inhale as he took her lips in a fierce kiss. He crushed his mouth to hers as if he had been waiting for the opportunity, throwing all of his rules out of the window.

And she would not waste the opportunity either.

She kissed him back with every bit of desire she felt for him, running her hands through his dark hair, tearing at the collar of his shirt, clawing at his shoulders, squeezing her thighs tightly.

I was wrong… she mused deliriously as his tongue moved against hers in a teasing dance.

His hand reached back to grab the hem of her dress, his palm skimming the soft flesh of her thigh as he pulled the garment up to her hips. She gasped at the friction of his rough skin against her softness, a delicious shiver running through her, prompting her to kiss him more fiercely.

“I’ll make ye see what a fool ye’ve been,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw and down the column of her throat.

As he bent his head to her bosom, he took the neckline of her dress and stays between his teeth and tugged them downward, freeing her breasts.

He closed his mouth around her pert nipple and sucked, and her back arched off the stone as a bolt of pleasure shot through her. Desire pooled between her thighs, her entire being a crackling, sparkling furnace of need that only he could satisfy.

A startled gasp pursued a moan out of her mouth as he suddenly slid his hands between his waist and her thighs, and cupped her buttocks. She yelped again as he hoisted her up with what appeared to be no effort at all until her legs were draped over his broad shoulders.

He pinned her to the wall once more, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he peered up at her.

At first, she feared he was going to drop her or something, but she could not have been more wrong. He was simply pinning her where he wanted her so he could feast on her to his heart’s content.

“Ye dinnae ken how much I’ve been cravin’ this,” he murmured, turning his head to bite the inside of her thigh.

She cried out, tangling her fingers in his hair as he kissed along the short stretch of that supple flesh and trailed his tongue across the center of her pleasure. A slow stroke, teasing her bundle of nerves into a frenzy. The strangest, most intoxicating, most thrilling sensation she had ever experienced.

He moved his tongue in small circles around her swollen bud, savoring her, clearly enjoying the power he held over her. Her thighs trembled, her whole body shaking with pleasure as he flicked his tongue against her hidden pearl. He must have known she loved to be kissed there, for he did not stop as her moans and cries grew louder and more desperate, chasing a conclusion that swelled within her.

As such, when he slid his fingers inside her, it was the last push she needed to fall into the throes of unbridled ecstasy. Her conclusion engulfed her, every fiber of her being caught in its intense current, making her shake and cry out in euphoria. Her head swam with pleasure as she arched her back and closed her eyes, letting herself feel every extraordinary second, willing it to last forever.

After all, there was every chance that he would send her away again once that sensation ebbed.

But the feeling could not last. Slowly, it faded to duller pulses and smoldering embers, and Murdoch withdrew his fingers and stole one last taste before he lowered her to her feet.

“I suppose ye want me to leave now?” she murmured in a daze.

“Why would I want that?” He bit his lip. “I’m nae even close to bein’ finished with ye.”

As if to prove his point, he dipped his head and kissed her, the press of his mouth slower and more sensual than it had been before. Perhaps he had finally realized that they did not have to rush and had decided to take his time with her.

Cecilia kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him. She still had to rise on tiptoe to kiss him, but his arms around her kept her steady.

As she ran her fingertips through his hair, savoring every moment of the kiss, she felt the leather cord that kept his mask affixed to his face. There was a tight knot there, the kind that had not been loosened for an age.

For a moment, she considered pulling off his mask to see his face properly, even just once, but then she thought better of it. If it angered him, he might truly ask her to leave, and she did not want that. Not while there was still so much more to explore.

She smiled against his mouth as he lifted her into his arms again, carrying her to the other side of the room, where the golden late-morning sunlight filtered through the narrow windows.

He set her down in front of a side table and pulled back, gazing at her. “I mean to enjoy what I resisted this mornin’.”

“What do ye mean?” she asked coyly.

“Ye ken what I mean,” he replied, turning her around.

Her eyes widened as she looked out the window, seeing the world beyond bathed in that heavenly glow. She could see for miles, all the way to the distant shadow of snow-capped mountains. It might have been an isolated corner of Scotland, but it was not without its beauty, and it was not such a terrible place to call home.

Her breath caught in her throat as Murdoch loosened the knot at the back of her dress and slowly began to unlace it. He bent his head to kiss her exposed back, his tongue leaving a tingling mark on the nape of her neck, before he pulled the dress up and over her head.

“Aye, that’s it,” he murmured, stepping away from her for a moment. “Aye.”

He came back to her, tearing at the laces of her stays and throwing them on top of her dress. She longed to turn around and undress him, but when she tried, he pressed against her, holding her hands against the side table.

“Use yer other senses,” he told her, kissing her neck. “Imagine it as it happens.”

She did as he asked, surprised to feel a delicious shiver running through her as she heard him unbuckling his belt. Her breathing became ragged as she listened to the faint thud of his kilt hitting the floor, her body thrumming with anticipation as the soft rustle of his léine drifted to her ears.

His powerful arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against him, letting her feel the muscles and strength and heat of him.

Nevertheless, she moved a hand behind her, running her fingertips up the side of his muscular thigh. She had never felt something like it, hardly able to imagine how big and powerful it looked. She felt smoother lines here and there—scars. They must have been scars.

She could not resist moving her hand further back and squeezing his firm backside.

“I didnae say ye could touch me,” he said in a silky voice as his hand slid up her stomach, toward her breasts.

“Is that how ye mean to pretend that ours is still a white marriage?” she asked slyly. “If I dinnae touch ye, it doesnae count?”

He nipped her earlobe. “It counts, but I dinnae care anymore.”

To prove his point, he nudged her legs apart with his knee and took a half-step back. He ran his hand down the length of her spine, urging her to bend at the waist, and rested his other hand on her hip.

Cecilia moaned as she felt his member sliding between her thighs, just like it had in the gardens. Wet with anticipation and pleasure, her nerves were so sensitive as his thick, hot flesh brushed against her bud.

“Oh… Oh, Murdoch…” she gasped, clawing at the side table.

“It might hurt,” he told her gruffly, “but nae for long.”

She nodded, ready to experience what she had heard so much about from the village girls. They had mentioned that it hurt briefly, but she was not afraid of a little pain if it meant a whole new world of pleasure.

He continued to push his length back and forth, teasing her swollen bud and keeping her guessing.

But as he drew back and made a noise of satisfaction in the back of his throat, she braced for what she had hoped for. Her breath hitched as she felt him nudge her entrance, his girth and heat knocking the air out of her lungs. Perhaps it was better that she could not look, or else she might have lost her nerve at his intimidating size.

A moment later, he eased himself inside her. He took his time, pushing slowly, while everything around her seemed to stand still as the new sensation overwhelmed her. There was a mild sting in the beginning, but as he slid deeper inside her, she forgot the pain, every nerve and limb and vein awakening to pleasures unknown.

She gasped, finally catching her breath in a series of shallow pants, relaxing into the glorious, inexplicable feeling of fullness. It was beyond anything she could have imagined, his girth sending fresh sparks of bliss to her belly and down her trembling legs.

He stilled for a moment, allowing her to relax into the sensation even more.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Cecilia shook her head. “Nay… Nay, it doesnae. Please, dinnae stop.”

“I dinnae intend to.”

She thought she heard a smile in his voice as he slowly pulled back, the slippery friction like striking a flint, igniting the tinderbox of her bliss.

This was worth waitin’ for…

She cried out as he slid back inside her, praying that he never decided to send her away again. If she could not have this with him, then she would surely take leave of her senses.

Murdoch had never known anything like it. He had never known pleasure so powerful or intoxicating to the point where he worried he might lose control altogether, making it a shorter experience than he would have liked.

But he was not a man of discipline for nothing, his body obeying his wishes as he plunged into the welcoming heat of her, thrusting in measured strokes while she moaned his name and gripped the table as if it were the only thing preventing her from flying away.

As if I dinnae want ye, lass. The greater trouble is nae bein’ able to get enough of ye.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up, his hand kneading the soft flesh of her breast while his other hand slipped between her thighs.

“Oh God… Oh… Oh!” she cried out as he strummed her bud and bent his head to kiss her neck, his lips grazing her smooth skin.

Every time he thought he might reach his conclusion ahead of her, he bit her shoulder, letting the feeling pass before he thrust into her harder. But it was building. He could sense it in the air, but spilling his seed inside her was not something he could risk.

As much as it would torture him, he would have to pull out before it happened.

“Aye, Murdoch!” she moaned, rocking her hips back to meet his every thrust. “Oh… Oh…”

He quickened his thrusts when her breathing grew heavier, her moans and cries more ragged than before, certain that she would soon reach her peak again. All the while, he strummed her bundle of nerves, knowing that his skilled touch would soon make her shudder and shake in his arms.

“Oh!” she screamed, her hand reaching back to squeeze his backside as he thrust deep inside her, holding him there as she shuddered around him.

Her muscles tightened with the force of her ecstasy, and as she rocked her hips, taking him deeper in the throes of her conclusion, he felt his own racing toward him.

He pulled back, but as he did so, she rocked back against him until he was buried inside her to the hilt. A shiver of raw euphoria coursed through his veins, rippling down to his length, his stomach tightening as he reached his peak with her. Nothing could have compelled him to pull out of her at that moment. He forgot everything that he had ever promised himself.

Instead, he thrust again—once, twice—and stilled inside her, holding her tightly against him as their bodies pulsed together, still wracked by their mutual conclusion.

“Cecilia,” he growled, kissing her neck lazily, dazed by the enchantment she had cast upon him.

There was no one in the world like her, and he got to call her his wife . Had he been anyone else, he might have proclaimed himself the luckiest man in Christendom.

But as his ecstasy ebbed and his mind cleared of the delirious fog of her extraordinary self, a grave worry began to creep into his thoughts.

What have I done?

He had taken a tremendous risk—one that he could not take again, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I never liked rules anyway,” Cecilia murmured, slowly turning in his arms.

She wore a dazed smile, her eyes glassy with satisfaction, her cheeks flushed the most tempting shade of pink. She had never looked more beautiful, and he was not going to ruin the moment with his worries. For now, he would set them aside, and he would make new promises to himself tomorrow.

“I hadnae noticed,” he replied, resisting the urge to smile.

She chuckled and clung to him, resting her head against his chest. As he held her, she yawned, making him wonder if she had been as restless as him over the past week. He could have slept for hours if he did not have other things to attend to, but he would not deny her the opportunity.

Carefully, he scooped her up into his arms and covered her with her clothes, before adding an extra blanket to keep her dignity concealed. She curled into him, her eyes fluttering shut, offering no protest as he carried her out of the tower and to the comfort of her bedchamber.

Cecilia did not stir as he carried her all the way there, nor did she stir as he laid her down on her bed and covered her with the blankets. She murmured something as he sat beside her for a moment, brushing a lock of dark hair from her face, but she did not awaken. Nor did she awaken when the puppy finally noticed that he had visitors, jumping up from his resting spot by the fireplace.

Dipper struggled to climb into the bed, being too small to manage on his own, but he was determined to get to Cecilia nonetheless.

“Here, ye wee menace,” Murdoch whispered, scooping the dog up and setting him down beside Cecilia.

The puppy curled up contentedly against her, keeping one eye on Murdoch.

Murdoch smiled and reached out to scratch him between the ears. “Ye take care of her, eh?”

Dipper licked his hand in reply.

“Aye, she’ll need ye.”

With one last look at Cecilia’s beautiful face, Murdoch got up and left.

The moment he stepped out of her room and closed the door, he let his worries flood his mind.

As life-altering as claiming his wife had been, he had lost control of himself in the most damning way. Now, he would have to wait and see if he had just undone everything he had spent so many years tying into neat knots.

Dinnae let her be with child, he silently prayed, though he could not remember the last time his prayers had been answered.