Page 31 of Taken by the Ruthless Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #6)

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“I said, nay hands,” Morgana whispered as her teeth grazed his earlobe.

She straddled him over the chair, rubbing her breasts in his face as she held his hands down.

“But I want to touch,” Ryder groaned. He shifted his hips playfully, trying to throw her off balance.

“And let ye ruin all my fun? Nay,” she answered as she climbed off his lap.

“Finally,” he huffed and sprang to his feet, ready to snatch her right off her feet.

“Dinnae ye dare.” Morgana held up her hand as if she were taming a wild beast.

Ryder’s eyes danced with the flames in the fireplace. He moved and shifted with such precision and speed that Morgana wondered if she’d ever be able to outrun him. By all accounts, she hadn’t had much luck in the past, but there was always that sprig of hope rooted within her.

“Ye’re mine now,” he growled.

With his arms outstretched like a net, he lunged. Morgana sidestepped and ducked, sending him careening into the chair and toppling over it.

“What was that?” she asked, her tone a bit too cocky as she cupped a hand to her ear.

Ryder scrambled to his feet and turned to her. She let out a squeal as he darted for her once more. As much as she tried to squirm out of his arms, she was pinned.

“I’ve got ye,” he breathed as he leaned down and nipped along the length of her neck.

“And what exactly are ye goin’ to do with me?” she asked, arching into him.

Ryder pulled back and studied her for a moment. She watched the wheels in his head twist and turn. But it was the playful, mischievous spark flickering in his eyes that intrigued her the most. How she wished she could read his thoughts.

It was clear from his sultry gaze what he was thinking of. Morgana could only wish he’d act on his impulses.

“Stay still, and I’ll show ye exactly what I want from ye,” he purred, before peppering kisses all over her neck.

Morgana giggled as his lips pressed and fluttered over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Her back arched, and she pressed herself against him. The growl coming from deep within him spoke volumes to her soul.

She didn’t say a word as she curled her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling him down to her, she kissed him. She didn’t want just bits and pieces of him. She wanted all or nothing. And he was willing to give her everything.

“Tell me what it is ye want and it’s yers,” Ryder groaned as she shoved her hand between them to unbuckle the leather belt around his waist.

He stepped out of his trews in a flash, kicking them away as if they were soiled. His grin teased her.

“Is that right?” she asked, tugging on his hair. “Anythin’?”

“Aye,” he pleaded.

Morgana hooked her leg over his hip and stared at him. The longing burned the embers of his desires and scorched the kindling of his passions. She slid her hand down his belly, reaching for one thing—his manhood. She wanted to feel it pulsing and throbbing in her hand.

Ryder’s head hung forward as she touched him ever so gently, running just the tips of her fingers down the length of his shaft.

“Och, I love yer fingers, lass. Ye’re softer than lamb skin,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was at her mercy. She could have asked for the stars in the sky and watched him struggle to keep his promise.

But Morgana didn’t want the cold, distant stars. She wanted something much warmer and closer to home.

“Please, ye’re drivin’ me mad. Name yer price and I’ll pay it, I swear. Just, please, put yer mouth on it.”

Morgana stared at his manhood for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She dropped to her knees and leaned closer to his manhood, kissing the tip as she stared up at him.

Ryder shook his head and eased back.

“Ye need to open yer mouth,” he ordered, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Morgana’s body tingled, and her thoughts scattered as she found herself eager to please him. She opened her mouth.

“Good. Now, stay still. When ye feel me, I want ye to close yer mouth and try to swallow all ye can.”

“Are ye mad?” she gasped, pulling back slightly.

She shook her head as she watched his fingers slide up and over the tip of his manhood, drawing a pearly bead of moisture.

It was then that she realized what she craved the most.

It wasn’t diamonds or jewels; it was him . She wanted him all to herself. But there was only one thing she could think of that would bind him to her forever.

“I promise I willnae hurt ye, and ye’ll nae hurt me. Just try. Open yer mouth,” Ryder urged as he leaned back against the headboard, tucking an arm behind his head.

Morgana crawled over the bed and ran her hand down his torso. She loved the fact that he wasn’t overly hairy, but with just enough for her to entertain herself. As she positioned her head over his manhood, she opened her mouth and waited.

Ryder’s hand cradled the back of her head, easing her onto him. Morgana closed her eyes and let him guide her. Giving up power and submitting to him was easier than she had expected. And as he pushed her head further down, he let out a moan that reverberated through her being. The need to please him and give him everything he desired overwhelmed her.

“Ye feel heavenly,” he groaned as her tongue stroked his length.

But it wasn’t enough. Her body ached for more. Pulling back with a pop, Morgana rubbed her hand over her mouth and climbed over him as if he were a stallion.

“I need ye,” she said. “And nae just this. I want a life, a future with ye. I want to have children with ye.”

“I’ll give ye whatever ye want—just, please,” Ryder begged as she hovered over him teasingly.

“Then have yer way, and dinnae be gentle.”

* * *

Ryder stared up at the ceiling of his chambers, struggling to catch his breath. Morgana snuggled in the crook of his arm, her bare skin pressing against his so tenderly.

This was bliss. He felt weightless. There was no up or down, only the here and now. Only Morgana’s light giggle lifted him higher.

Rolling over, he pressed her harder against him, wishing there was a way to keep her glued to him at all times. Whether it was the way her tongue moved over him or the way she squeezed and milked him, he didn’t know what was causing the lightheadedness. But for the first time in years, he was happy.

“Ye were holdin’ back on me,” Morgana murmured as she kissed his chest.

“I had to,” he panted against the top of her head. “If I had done that the first time, ye never would have let me do anythin’ else.”

“Now, that’s nae true.” Morgana ran her fingers through the hair on his chest.

Her body felt as if it was made for his. Pulling in a long, deep breath, he prayed the moment would last. How he wished he could freeze time.

“I might have done it with ye again.”

“Are ye sayin’ ye like it better on yer back or yer hands and knees? Because both suit me just fine.” Ryder smirked.

“Aye, I’m sure ye do,” Morgana said, her lips brushing against his ribs as her hot breath caressed his skin. Goosebumps rose over his flesh, making him shiver. “What was that all about?”

“Dinnae touch me there,” Ryder warned, hoping he didn’t sound too harsh. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the moment. “It tickles.”

“Laird McKenzie is ticklish? Now, that is something I never would have thought,” Morgana teased, purposefully raking her nails over his skin.

Ryder clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the sensation wreaking havoc on the left side of his body.

“And here?”

“Stop—” He burst into laughter.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard that tears spilled over.

“Well, since ye asked so nicely,” Morgana murmured, pulling her hand away from his ribs.

With the torture finally over, Ryder was able to catch his breath. He pulled in long, deep lungfuls of air, trying to slow his pounding heart. He glanced at Morgana and flashed her a smile as she nuzzled him.

“Please, dinnae do that again,” he said.

He curled his thick arm around her, holding her closer.

“I didnae ken ye were so sensitive.” Morgana batted her eyelashes at him.

Ryder smirked as he watched her stretch her limbs. She was such an exquisite thing.

“Aye, well, I wouldnae go around makin’ the announcement. Nay one would believe ye,” he teased.

Morgana nestled into the crook of his arm, sleep overcoming her.

“Are ye tired?”

“A wee bit,” she answered, her eyes growing heavy.

It was but a moment and slumber had pulled her under.

Ryder’s heart swelled as he stared at the woman at his side. She was far more than anything he had expected or could have dreamed of.

Happiness washed over him like a flash flood through the canyon as the darkness swallowed him whole.

“I thought we had agreed. And ye go and do this?” his father’s voice boomed through the shadow and mist.

With each step, his chest grew tighter. Ryder knew where he was going—his mother’s chambers. And he knew exactly what he was about to walk in on. Yet nothing he did slowed his steps.

“Gregory, please,” his mother wailed as he poked his head around the door.

His mother’s eye was swollen shut, and her lip was busted. Tears mingled with the blood as he darted inside to take the next blow from his father and spare his mother. The force knocked him to the ground.

No matter how many times he had this dream, he was never strong enough to fight back.

“Ye’re a whore, and I’ll nae claim that child as my own!” his father shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at his mother.

Ryder’s eyes flew open. The stillness of his chambers surrounded him as he glanced down to find Morgana sleeping next to him. The dream lingered like a bad taste on his tongue.

Bolting upright, he squinted through the shadows, half expecting to see his father lingering like a phantom. He swallowed hard, forcing the lump of uncertainty down.

Slowly, he slid off the mattress so as not to wake his wife. His body tingled, but it wasn’t from the cold. There was a shadow growing in the back of his mind that haunted him.

Morgana shifted and stirred as she settled on her side. Ryder let out the breath he had been holding in and dressed swiftly, the terror from his dream clinging to his skin. He stared at his wife, sound asleep in his bed, as dread pooled low in his gut.

He wrestled with images of her naked body skipping alongside visions of his mother begging his father to stop.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he moved to the door.

“Ye minx,” he growled, disgusted at himself for breaking his vow to never sleep with his wife.

His fists balled at his sides, he stormed out of the room.