Page 81 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander

As if smelling her arousal, his mouth found hers greedily.

She parted her lips slightly, begging for air and granting him permission. His kiss grew more heated, stealing her sanity. When he pulled back, she was trembling with desire.

His thumb brushed over her swollen lips, pressing beyond their seal and between her teeth. “Tell me to stop now, lass.”

She didn’t.

Instead, she reached for him, emboldened by the way his body tensed up at her touch. She let her hand wander, tracing the ridges of his exposed abdomen, the deadly strength beneath his skin. He inhaled sharply, and that sound alone sent a shiver down her spine.

With a low groan, he spun them, pressing her back against the beam as he dipped his head to her throat and pulled her skirts up to her hips. His other hand slid behind her head, gripping the hair at the nape of her neck wildly. Her hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer.

The heel of his hand pressed against her hot, slick arousal, and the moan she let out was almost guttural. It was primal, the need she had for him to set her free. Push her over the edge with each frantic circling of the soft pads of his fingers. One and then two fingers slid inside her, pulsing in a punishing rhythm, and she felt like she would fall off the edge of the world if he stopped.

A scream built in the depth of her throat until, finally, she found her release. Her body convulsed at the movements of his expert hand like a puppet.

What’s me name?

He smirked knowingly. “Tell me to stop, lass.”

“Nay. I…”

Words failed her again, and his hand teased her this time, slowly. He was waiting for what she would say… or do.

What do I do? What can I do?

She pressed her hips against his hard length, and the thought of all of him inside her made her core pulse with desire. Especially since his fingers alone had just sent her to the moon.

“I—” she managed, but this time her hand slid down his torso and caressed his long girth.

He watched her hungrily. Patiently.

“I want…” she said, this time her hazel eyes locking onto his. “I want to pleasure ye, husband.”

Damon twisted his neck, cracking the joints with untapped desire. At her words, he stopped pumping his fingers in and out of her. His entire body tensed up with surprise.

“Isthatyer surprise?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Nay, there’s more to come, but now…” She slid her hand up and down his length. “Now is somethin’ different.”

His eyes grew heavy-lidded, his body rocking back and forth to her steady rhythm until she finally slipped her hand beneath his waistband and gripped him.

He’s soft like fine silk yet rock-hard like the hilt of a dagger. How?—

Damon groaned, his length pulsing in her grip as he rocked into her hand. Lilith recognized the rhythm that sent her over the edge and started matching his body’s movements. The change made him tense up further.

The hand that had been gripping her hair had only tightened, and she felt a deliciously painful sting in her scalp. The other hand had dropped her skirts and gripped her waist with unyielding force. All she wanted was more.

Another loud, guttural groan tore out of Damon’s throat until, finally, he fell over the edge. His body twitched with each heavy breath he took to steady himself, and his head fell and rested on Lilith’s chest, pressing into her with deep need.

“If we dinnae stop now, I willnae be able to…” he managed to say through impossibly gritted teeth.

Lilith pulled her hand out of his pants, and he grabbed it quickly and cleaned off the shiny fluid that had collected in her palm with a nearby rag. “Thank ye.”

“Ye daenae want any of this to stain yer skirts,” Damon said, smirking, tossing the rag into the fires of the forge behind him.

“And… daenae ye have to do the same for, um…?” the embarrassment of discussing something she had no words for suddenly stole her voice.

Understandin, Damon held up his own fingers, puckering from her wet arousal, “This?”