Page 26 of Taken by the Ruthless Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #6)

26

“Y e’re a dangerous minx,” Ryder said through gritted teeth.

Her pert breasts rose and fell quickly. He wondered if her ragged breathing had anything to do with how much he wanted her.

Could she tell how she drove him mad with desire? Did she see the flames she stoked just by batting her long lashes at him?

The fact that she tried to escape only set off his instincts. It was as if he were born to run after that woman.

He arched an eyebrow and tilted his head. There was no way he could mask the grin stretching his lips. Their banter and teasing for the past week had been driving him insane. And the fact that she just made him feel like a hound chasing its prey ignited his passions.

“To hell with it,” he muttered, casting off all his inhibitions and reservations.

His arms banded around her, and before she could protest, he hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Put me down,” Morgana huffed. “I am perfectly capable of walkin’ on my own.”

“Aye, in the wrong direction,” Ryder scoffed. “I’ve given ye quarter. Was even a bit tender with ye a few times. But ye’ve disrespected me one too many times. I’m goin’ to make an example out of ye.”

“My Laird, please,” Morgana squealed as she thrashed about.

It was no use. No matter how violently she tossed her body about, Ryder’s grip would not budge.

By the time he had crested the ridge of the garden, he had grown rather fond of her squirming. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d squirm like that as he took her.

The idea caused his body to respond with an urgency he couldn’t contain.

“Ye promised to stay. Ye’re bein’ a bad lass by goin’ and doin’ the things I told ye nae to do,” Ryder chided as he pushed through the kitchen door.

His eyes narrowed on the cook sitting at the table. At his stern glare and the jerk of his head, the cook bolted from the table and out of the kitchen.

Now that they were alone, Ryder had no other excuse. All that remained was the hard, raw passion consuming him as if he were a log in a fire.

“I’m sorry, please,” Morgana gasped as he set her on the table and tossed her skirts over her knees. Her eyes widened as he disappeared under the layers of fabric.

It was in there that he felt safe. In the space between her legs was his comfort and tranquility.

He pulled in quick, shallow breaths as his lips caressed the tender skin of her thighs. He loved the way her body twitched and quivered, but it was the fact that she wore nothing under her skirts that pleased him the most. Had she been expecting him to take her?

How many times had the thought tormented him.

“Please what?” Ryder asked as he raised his head from between her legs.

Morgana reclined on her back and stared up at the ceiling. The wooden table creaked as she shifted. Ryder watched her hips buck and shimmy as his fingers stroked her bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“If ye want me to forgive ye, ye’re goin’ to have to try harder.”

“Ryder,” Morgana moaned.

Ryder slid a finger inside her, coaxing another moan from her.

“It’s Laird McKenzie,” he growled. “And ye’re nae to find pleasure.”

“Och, but I am,” Morgana gasped, her back arching.

Ryder slid and curled his finger inside her as if there were secret buttons that he could flip on and off. A flush rose up her neck as he leaned over her. Oh, how he wanted to taste her.

Pausing a hairsbreadth from her lips, he studied her face as it contorted with each thrust of his finger.

“I want more,” she begged. “I need more.”

“Nae this time,” Ryder grunted, his manhood throbbing against his leg and brushing his woolen kilt. “Ye think I’m about to give ye what ye want? Sorry, My Lady, but ye’re sorely mistaken.”

“I’m nae the one who will be sore later,” Morgana breathed, her lips twitching.

Her threat gave him pause.

“Ye really are a minx,” he grumbled, causing her lips to curl into a wide smile.

His longing and yearning turned into a need he couldn’t explain. It was more than him wanting to dive into the core of her being and lose himself in her embrace. He wanted to fill her with everything that he had.

He tore at the laces keeping her corset together, but his frustration only grew when he found he had tightened the knots.

“Hold still,” he huffed, pulling his dirk. The metal glinted in the silver light of the moon, causing Morgana’s eyes to widen.

With a flick of his wrist, the tight corset fell away, releasing the hostages he so desperately wanted. He plunged into his victory with glee, suckling and kneading as he pumped his finger into her. Her hips rose and fell with each thrust.

Oh, how he wanted to be inside her, filling her and stretching her. He wanted to roll her onto her stomach and bury himself inside her as the sounds of her pleasure echoed off the kitchen walls.

“Ryd—My Laird, please,” Morgana cried as she reached for him. The pink hue on her cheeks darkened to match the nub between her legs. “I cannae handle more.”

“Oh, but ye can,” Ryder purred, his teeth grazing her earlobe. “I promise ye can. Just a wee bit longer, and I promise ye’ll never disobey me again.”

“If this is the price I have to pay,” Morgana panted.

“Oh nay, this isnae yer punishment for lyin’ to me,” Ryder said darkly. “But if ye dinnae be quiet, I promise ye worse things to come.”

Morgana threw her head back and let out a loud moan.

Ryder’s fingers slipped out of her as he darted to the counter, looking for something to muffle her sounds with. The last thing he wanted was for the whole castle to come down and watch him take his wife on the very table used to cook the meals.

“Make me,” Morgana challenged, the second his fingers curled around a towel.

Without hesitation, he shoved the towel into her mouth, muffling her obscene moans.

Morgana yelped in shock, her eyes widening. Ryder’s lips curled into a wicked grin as he clasped her hands in one of his, lest she try to take the towel out.

“I dinnae think so,” he drawled. He moved around the table to position himself between her legs once again. “I’ve warned ye too many times, lass.”

He pinned her hands above her head, causing her breasts to squeeze tightly together despite being free from their hellish cage.

Corsets had always grated on Ryder’s nerves, like something put in place just to get in the way. They were bothersome and cumbersome in every regard.

With his free hand, he unbuckled his belt and let his kilt, sporran, and dirk drop to his ankles. He grabbed his cock and stroked it to relieve some of the pressure that had built up. It was the rocking of Morgana’s hips that taunted him the most.

He paused, before pushing the head of his cock through her slit. Morgana’s eyes widened.

“I promised ye,” Ryder murmured as he rubbed the head over the tender nub hidden from all the world. “This wasnae for yer pleasure.”

He pushed into her without warning, her snug warmth calling to him like a siren.

Utter bliss engulfed him. He closed his eyes. The world could have been set on fire and he wouldn’t have cared. He had found his heaven, his serenity, and her name was Morgana.

Opening his eyes, he started to move his hips. Slow and steady at first, allowing him to savor every inch of her. The way she molded to him, squeezing his manhood gently, only made him want to thrust deeper into her. He wanted to explore every inch of her that held secrets she dared not whisper in the light.

Against the cloth, she cried out her pleasure. The muffled melody was like kindling to his desires. When he moved, she moved in wild bursts of need and want. His nails dug into the wooden surface beneath her as he rammed into her, pushing her even further down the table.

Frustrated that she had tried to get away, he curled his fingers over her shoulders and pulled her back to him. Her jaw went slack as he thrust into her deeper. The cloth fell from her open mouth, releasing her whimpers and moans.

“Ryder!” Morgana cried as she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

Her legs locked around his buttocks like pythons, urging him deeper. And he obeyed. If she wanted harder, he’d give her harder until her silhouette was carved into the table.

Her lips parted on a gasp as her legs trembled around him. A warmth oozed out of her and seeped into him, threatening to milk his seed.

The urge was overwhelming. How easy it would be to just stay inside her and ride out his release. Ryder was on the verge, but even so, he couldn’t remain in her.

Just before he climaxed, he pulled out of her, leaving her whimpering as he turned around.

“Ryder? Are ye… Is everythin’ all right?” Morgana asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as he spilled his seed over the hot embers of the fire.

His knees buckled, and he braced a hand against the wall to steady himself. A weak chuckle escaped his lips as he glanced over his shoulder to find Morgana sitting up. She was blissfully disheveled, with her hair sticking out every which way. Her poor dress had certainly seen better days.

Guilt pinched him in the side but left just as swiftly as it had come. He didn’t care that she would have to walk through the castle looking absolutely ravished. Who cared who saw her? If any rumors sprang up because of this, he’d be the first to squash them.

“Are ye all right?” he asked as he moved to gather his things from the floor.

Morgana nodded her head with a sheepish grin. “Aye, I think so.”

She was stunning as she clung to her torn corset, trying to cover her breasts. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Ryder wished he could pause time right then. He blinked as he studied the aftermath of his longing.

“We should probably retire,” he said. “Now, do I have to walk ye to yer room to make sure ye get there, or will ye be a good lass and find yer way on yer own?”

Morgana scooted off the edge of the table and stood before him. The scent of the sex clung to her as he slipped on his kilt and refastened his belt.

“If it pleases My Laird,” she whispered so seductively that his cock twitched.

Ryder’s eyes narrowed as he fastened the last notch to secure his dirk. He leaned down and took her lips in a deep kiss.

“Aye,” he murmured against her mouth. “It pleases me, My Lady.”