Page 27 of Forge of the Highlander’s Destiny
“Bloody Hell,” Cohen said with a grin, moving closer, his good arm sliding down her body until it landed on her backside, pulling her close. “We have already wasted too much time.”
“Aye, we must start planning me sister’s rescue.” She was eager, happy, and ready to move forward. She tried to pull out of his embrace, but he held fast, pushing her closer and grinding his hips against her.
To her surprise, the motion made a moan come out of her, and she grabbed onto his shoulders, trailing her fingers along the base of his neck, just as she had wanted to.
“Nay,” he said throatily. “I think we have time for this first. Ye cannae tell a man that ye love him and nae stay a little to celebrate that fact.”
His lips moved close, and Arya grinned, feeling powerful again. “Aye, I suppose nae. Would ye like me to ride ye again?” she asked, her mouth so close to his but not yet kissing.
He shook his head. “As much as I like that, Arya, I was hoping for somethin’ a little different. I am so hard for ye that I want to push meself into ye again and again. Nothin’ would give me more pleasure,” he said before taking her mouth swiftly and hard.
Arya groaned, the need for him growing even more with the sensation of him kissing her. She wrapped her arms tightly about him, and she felt his other arm come down to squeeze her backside. She pulled away.
“Daenae hurt yer arm!” she said, trying to move it, and he growled.
“It is worth the pain, Arya, but I think we will have to find a new location.” He looked around and then grinned, pushing her back until her bottom hit a wooden table.
Understanding his train of thought, Arya smiled and lifted herself up onto it, and they pulled up her skirts until his fingers found her wet center.
“Aye,” she said softly, arching toward him as she felt his one finger slip inside, while his thumb stroked her.
“Ye are already ready for me,” he said in a gruff tone, kissing her hard again, his tongue sweeping inside of her mouth. When he pulled away, she could barely think any longer. All she knew was desire.
“Are ye sore? Can ye take me?” he asked hopefully. “Ye must only say the word, and we will stop.”
“Nay!” she said, more loudly than expected, bringing a smile to Cohen’s lips. She pulled him close, her hands on either side of his face.
“Ye are far too handsome for yer own good, Lad,” she said, kissing him again, more softly this time, moaning as she felt another finger slip inside her.
He smiled against her mouth. “I am glad ye think so,” he said, leaning down to bury his head under her skirts to find her center.
She cried out at the first feel of his mouth between her legs, and he wrapped an arm around her hips to pull her closer and spread her wider. She kept her skirts high, trying to keep herself from melting to the floor in hot, sweaty heat.
As his tongue flicked across her opening, a finger slid inside of her again, curling, and she came quickly, her hands digging in his hair, trying to keep her balance.
Cohen was smug as he rose on his feet, and she couldn’t help but smile as she undid his kilt, letting it drop to the floor so that his length was set free. He groaned as she clasped onto it, and he took her hand and put it aside.
“I want ye to come again with me inside ye, Arya. I daenae want to go too quickly.” She nodded as he lifted her hips to grasp onto him, and a fresh cry came out of her mouth as she felt him enter her. It was swift and solid, and at this angle, it went deeper than it ever had.
He began to move, and he nuzzled into her neck as he angled her hips a little more, sending him deeper still.
“My God,” she breathed, her head lolling to the side as pleasure took over her.
“Wrap yer legs around me, Lass,” he said, and she followed orders. When she locked her legs behind him, Cohen began to move in earnest, picking up a furious pace until the chamber was filled with sounds of their lovemaking, and she felt herself getting ever closer to her peak with each deep thrust.
“Cohen, aye!” she cried out finally, her legs holding him tightly as he continued to thrust feverishly into her. At her final tremble, he groaned and stilled, and she clutched tightly to his back as they caught their breath.
After a few seconds, he pulled away and gave her a slow, soft kiss. “I love ye like nay other, Arya.”
“And I love ye. I am sorry for what I said. I daenae think that about ye. That ye are tryin’ to imprison me.”
“Good,” he grinned, making her kiss him again. The moment was so intimate with him still inside of her, his hands pressing down on either side of the table, brushing against her hips. “Now, I think we should start making plans, while we celebrate the Yuletide.”
“What?” she asked in surprise as he pulled away from her and started to dress in his kilt.
“The Yuletide feast. It is tonight, and it is when we will discuss our ideas for saving Olivia. I promise.” He helped her down, taking her hand and kissing it. “Will ye trust me?”
“Aye, Cohen. Always.”
He kissed her again and said, “Meet me downstairs in a half an hour. We may want to…freshen up before, though.” She reached a hand to her loosened hair and laughed.
“Of course. I will be there.”