Page 19 of Rekindled (The MacTavish Heirs #5)

In which there is love, lust, and filthy talk.

Lucas…

I should put Cat to bed and go sleep on one of the long, low couches settled in the corner of the room.

I won’t, though.

Not if she wants me half as much as I want her right now. She’s fidgeting, rubbing her hands together and looking around at the art on the walls, the white linen drapes moving with the breeze coming through the open windows, anywhere but at me.

Lifting the heavy, silky mass of hair from her neck, I kiss her there, then again on her shoulder.

“Do ye want to play a game with me?”

She looks up, brow raised. “And what sort of game are ye thinking of?”

“Hmmm… one where we’re well and truly married.

” I kiss down the smooth slope of her cheekbone.

“Where we celebrate our wedding ni ght exploring each other. Nothing else. No demands. No outside family or complications.” There’s a strange sort of relief on her face that almost undoes me.

“You’ve had to be so strong, my Cat. Let me take care of ye. ”

Her fingers rub the sleeve of my shirt, before her hand slides inside, tracing the lines of my chest. “Only if I get to take care of ye as well.”

“Is that a yes, lass?”

Her green eyes glimmer in the low light from the lamps. “Aye.”

“Thank god,” I whisper before I capture her face in my hands and kiss her mouth, kiss her properly for the first time in three years.

The taste of her lips and tongue are sweet from the honeyed fruit at dinner and her own essence.

My dick hardens instantly, remembering how much sweeter she tastes below the waist.

“I remember every inch of your skin, the feel of your heartbeat, that little shudder ye have when ye come…” I drawl, dropping to my knees and running my tongue between her breasts, popping open the delicate buttons until she’s bared to the waist.

“Who knew…” She laughs breathlessly. “Who knew that my laconic, reserved bodyguard was such a wonderfully filthy talker in bed?”

My hands slide under her dress, pulling it up as my hands run over the smooth skin of her thighs until I deliver a quick bite to the soft seam between her leg and my ultimate goal, her fluttering pussy.

“Oh!”

Her fingers slide into my hair, grabbing handfuls and hugging it. When a groan tears from my lips, she pulls it again, experimentally, harder. My hand moves to the small of her back, bracing her and pulling her against my mouth.

“Your wee undies are already slick,” I hiss, running my tongue along the wet ribbon of flesh between her legs, and the thin fabric is no barrier.

Sliding my arm under her knee, I lift her leg over my shoulder, putting my other hand behind her back to keep her balanced.

“We should get them out of the way, aye?”

A startled squeal bursts from her when I tear them loose with my teeth, the fabric ripping like wet tissue paper and her thigh tightens desperately around my head. Flattening my tongue, I give her long, cat-like licks, loving the feel of her lips spreading for me, the warm scent of her, earthy.

Pointing my tongue, I leisurely circle it around her swollen clit, around and around until her leg shakes and she’s swaying slightly, her strong thighs trying to balance .

“Onto the bed, sweet lass.” Lifting her is easy, sending her back against the countless pillows that fly in every direction. She giggles, it’s a rare sound from her, green eyes bright and unguarded. As I massage her lower back, I search her face for any discomfort. “Does anything hurt?”

Now, her expression clouds. “I’m no bauchle, no weakling!” She tries to sit up and I push her back onto the bed with my hand on her breasts.

“Ach, darlin’…” I rub my stubbled chin between her legs, loving feeling her muscles tighten, how her pussy gets softer. “I dinnae say ye were weak. I’m still gonna hurt ye.” I chuckle against her skin as her stomach goes flat, her breath drawn in tight.

“Push ye somewhere between too much and not enough.” I suckle her clit hard between my lips, just grazing it with my teeth as she writhes against my face.

“I’m still gonna stretch ye, make ye sore.

Get every fecking inch of me stuffed inside ye, even if I have to tear ye in half to get it there.

And you’re gonna love every second of it, aren’t ye, my bad girl. My good girl. My dirty little girl?”

“A Dhia!” Cat gasps, “I dinnae think I could still be shocked at this point in my life.” Her fingers thread through my hair, yanking it again as her other hand grips my shoulder. “Ye filthy thing. I lov e it…”

She draws out the word ‘love’ blissfully, and I want to hear it again. About me. Said to me.

“Lucas.” She licks her lips, grinding against my mouth. “I want ye inside me now.”

I flutter my tongue along her pussy before stabbing it inside her. “Beg for it, then. Beg me.”

Ach. She dinnae like that, my proud lass. Her hips are still moving, though, thighs tight around me like she’s feart I’ll pull away.

“Say it, Cat. Beg me.”

An angry little noise comes from between gritted teeth and she glares at me.

Surging up over her, I rub my cock against her, the zipper on my pants near to taking the skin off me.

“Just say please, and I’ll make ye feel so good.

” She cries out desperately as I rub harder on the downstroke, pressing on her throbbing clit.

“Please, Lucas.” It’s torn from her, so pretty and needy. “Please, I need ye inside me, please.”

The realization hits me and I groan, my head dropping between her breasts. “I dinnae have a condom.”

“It’s awright,” she gasps, still writhing, “I have an implant. I know we’re both clean.”

Ripping my pants open, I barely get them down low enough to free my dick. I’ve been rough with her before but now, the slide of my cock inside her is slow, torturous, and unbearably good.

“Oh… I’ve missed this,” she whispers rapturously. “I could never forget this.”

The cool air from the windows blows over hot, glistening skin, her wee moans and gasps playing like music in the silent room.

“I’ve missed this, too,” I rasp. “The feel of your softness and slick, the eager pull of your snug channel tightening against my cock as I pull out, welcoming me in again on the next thrust.”

There’s nothing prettier, how her lips part rapturously when I first push inside her, enjoying the feel of splitting her wide as her cunt resists my first few thrusts.

"Open wider, now. Open up for me." Her delicate hands fly up to grip the shifting muscles on my back and I hum soothingly as my hips move in a slow sweep, then a twist as I pull out, then a sharp dip as I slide inside her again, each movement sparking a gasp or a sigh from my Cat, the tightening of her strong thighs against my ribs.

“Let me see ye, open your eyes.” I rub my thumb over her wet lower lip, making her watch me, needing to see her break apart with me inside her. I slide a pillow under her hips, lifting her higher, and the new angle makes her eyes fly wide open. “Look at me, love.”

“It’s so personal,” she manages between labored breaths, “too much to see, too intimate to watch.”

“Until me.” I kiss her harder. “Always, with me. I want to see every part of ye, my beautiful, stubborn, courageous girl.”

It’s not the lewd squelch of us together, not the heat that’s pouring off us in waves, in the end, it’s my sweet words that make my lass weep, tears squeezing from her eyes and she falls apart, writhing under me.

I follow her as her cunt squeezes me desperately and I feel like every cell is detonating inside me.

When we can move, I pull her to her side, thigh wrapped over mine, still buried inside her and rub her lower back gently as we whisper scraps of nothing to each other.

***

Bauchle - Scottish slang for weakling.

A Dhia! - Gaelic translation of “Oh, my God!” Used to express shock and surprise.

Feart - Scottish slang for worried or afraid.