Page 33 of The Highlander’s Fake Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #4)

O livia had thought she’d stepped into a dream, but after Arthur’s lips pressed against hers, she was certain that she’d stumbled into fantasy. It lasted so much longer than their first, now that she was willingly participating in the exchange.

His beard prickled lightly against her cheeks, his taste faintly of the fermented mead served during dinner. Sweet and salty from the scent of flowers and the natural tinge of salt he carried with him, regardless how far they were from the sea.

His hands combed through the hair at the back of her head, undoing the loose braids she’d worn for the last night of celebration.

She thought she’d grown used to the feel of his hands touching her hair, but this was entirely different.

His tugging against strands was rougher, less coordinated than the gentle weaving he’d done before, and he used that tension to keep her by his side while she continued to experience him.

Not that Olivia was interested in pulling away this time.

Another gust of wind briefly pulled the two apart, Olivia’s fighting to catch her breath as his seafoam gaze overtook her completely.

He had pulled her well beneath the surface, catching her against his current and taking her to the depths of his desires.

But Olivia knew she wouldn’t drown beneath his weight, the ringing pressure sent between her ears merely by his eye. She was a selkie, after all.

“My goddess o’the sea,” Arthur crooned. His hands slid down her back and secured around her waist, and Olivia let out a startled gasp as the laird of MacDonnell hoisted her into the air.

Her arisaid fluttered delicately to the ground, disturbing a small patch of petals, and Olivia felt the chill of the mountain’s air against her sleeveless arms.

“My oceanic temptress; my selkie.” Arthur kissed her once more, the possessive emphasis on, ‘my’ sending a far more pleasing shiver across Olivia’s skin.

She grasped at his face and kissed deeply, legs wrapping around his waist to allow him mobility.

And Arthur took full advantage of it, starting across the grove while a shower of moonlit petals fluttered after.

“I want to be on top of you,” Olivia whispered breathlessly.

“‘Twould nay be the first time I let ye,” Arthur replied with a smirk.

Olivia straightened slightly, hair tugging in the wind as she flashed Arthur a dramatic scowl. “Are ye windin’ me up?”

“I wasnae opposed to a beautiful goddess draped across me,” Arthur teased. “But, aye; a true warrior never allows himself to be dominated by their opponent, ethereally beautiful though they might be.”

Olivia cocked her brow, a mischievous grin of her own appearing across her lips.

She watched as Arthur’s smile turned bemused, then panicked as she suddenly leaned back, legs still wrapped around his waist. With a startled grunt, Arthur grasped her tightly in his arms and turned sharply, hitting the ground with Olivia triumphantly sitting on top of his chest. Her legs squeezed around his muscular waist, and it took everything she had not to collapse there and then.

“That’s playin’ dirty!” Arthur laughed, still catching his breath from the fall.

“Ye mean ye havenae the time to get a feel for me tactics?” Olivia leaned in close, her hair brushing against his face as a familiar warmth pooled to the center of her body. “I practically did the same thing as last time.”

“Ooh, I ken yer ways, lass,” Arthur crooned, adopting a matter-of-fact tone to his voice. “Ye use that charming body o’yers to distract me.”

“And it’s worked twice fer me so far,” Olivia gloated.

“Unless me plan from the start was to get ye on top of me,” Arthur countered.

Olivia let out a dramatic huff, but stole a quick kiss from the man sprawled out beneath her. “Well, I still managed to pin ye proper this time. I suppose ye arenae as fast as ye claim.”

Arthur’s brow narrowed, smirking widening. “I never claimed such a thing.”

“Well…” Olivia swallowed, heat pulsing between her legs. “I hear yer stamina is yer greatest asset. Is…is that something ye claim?”

As if to reply, Arthur suddenly grabbed her hips and rolled her over, pulling a startled shriek of delight from Olivia’s throat. She landed in the petal-carpeted grass, hair strewn out in every direction, as Arthur hung above her, hands gently pinning her wrists.

Feeling a squirm run throughout her middle, Olivia’s heels dug into the ground, kicking her shoes free before curling her toes against the petal-strewn grass. Once more, Arthur leaned in to steal a kiss, leaving her breathless and dizzy once they broke free.

But this time, Arthur’s lips continued down the nape of her neck, lips brushing lightly against her skin and trailing across her collar bone.

Then, one hand freed from her wrist and grasped her bosom; even with fabric separating their skin, Olivia knew this was infinitely better than when she’d pleasured herself all those nights ago.

Frantically, she used her free hand to loosen her bodice’s strings, giving Arthur enough space to slip his hand beneath and fully cup her breast.

“O-Oh, Arthur…!”

He grasped and gently squeezed, thumb massaging her rise as another pleasant shiver quaked Olivia’s core.

She twisted her legs once more, tensing briefly before bracing herself against the waves of heat building within her.

This was ridiculous; it had taken her far longer to get to this point, and Arthur had barely begun exploring her body.

A moan escaped her lips, trapped fingers flexing against the laird’s grasp as her free hand grabbed his back. She dug in her nails, delighted to hear a startled snarl rumble out from Arthur’s chest, and further delighted as he retaliated with a gentle nip against her neck.

“I dinnae ken seals had claws,” he growled, visibly pleased at the pain.

“S-Selkies, do,” Olivia managed to reply.

Arthur stole another kiss, pressing against her wrist as her fingers curled against his back.

He grasped her breast once more, kissing her cheek, the underside of her chin, the length of her neck–Olivia felt a familiar pressure building in her core, an unfamiliar hardness pressing against her.

A soft whimper built into a ravenous moan, and as his lips wrapped around her breast–as his tongue began to play with her sensitive nib–Olivia cried out, echoes of desire rippling against the mountains’ faces.

“There’s a far better place to taste ye,” Arthur whispered teasingly. “If I have yer permission…?”

Olivia nodded frantically, though Arthur remained hovering above her bosom.

“Y-Yes,” she confirmed, hands slipping off his back and cradling his face for a brief kiss.

Then, she watched in a daze as his face slipped free from her gentle grasp, sliding down the length of her body before vanishing beneath her gown’s hem.

For a moment, she was left amidst the flower petals, uncertain as to what the laird had in mind.

Then, she felt it; his lips brushed against her leg, working his way up to her innermost thigh.

A panicked squeal slipped out, and the kissing came to a pause.

“I-I’m alright!” she managed to stammer out.

“Just…just taken aback.” This was entirely different from what she experienced by her own hand, and Olivia felt desperation building in herself to see where it all was leading to.

Arthur began to shift beneath her skirt once more, hands gently pressing against her legs to push them apart.

Olivia allowed him to do so, toes curling in anticipation, then squeezing tightly as his tongue began to play with her clit.

Another startled gasp escaped, and Olivia dug her fingers into the ground.

Her finger had brushed past such a sensitive part before; how had she not known about this?

He continued to tease her, tongue reaching inside her as the hairs of his beard stimulated every pleasurable part of her body.

Olivia’s breath hitched, back arching as Arthur continued, his hands braced against her inner thigh as his tongue–God, his tongue!

–stimulated parts of her she never even realized were there.

It was like feeling the sunshine for the first time in spring, every hair on her skin stood upright as a tingling build swarmed throughout her body.

It was too much–almost too much to bear–but Olivia did not want it to stop.

She moaned and gasped, staring up at the sky as petals danced across the stars and merged within them.

The world began to spin, the pressure building in her core–she had never seen the moon look so luminous, the air taste so crisp and pure.

And as she expelled the last of the air in her chest, as Arthur’s tone darted across her sensitive nib, that warmth in her core exploded outward, radiating through her fingertips and filling her body with an addictive buzz she felt she could stay in forever.

But soon, it came to an end, the expelling heat quickly filling with the chill of the night.

Arthur suddenly rolled off of her, arms cradling her into a close embrace before pulling her arisaid across her trembling body.

Olivia blinked furiously, realizing that the climax had finished, the moment had passed, and it had come on so much quicker than she anticipated.

For a moment, a distastefully bitter tang coated her mouth, and she tilted her head up towards Arthur, apology dancing across her tongue for finishing so soon.

“Ye were wonderful,” Arthur crooned, leaning in for the sweetest kiss of them all. Shame burned off her face as the cold filled its place, and Olivia was more certain of herself than she ever was before.

“Wonderful?” she asked quietly.

Arthur simply replied with another, gentle kiss, arms hugging her close to his chest as the pair simply enjoyed the other’s presence.

The sky had begun to purple when Arthur stirred from slumber.

He blinked furiously, going to wipe fatigue from his eyes until an unfamiliar weight prevented him from doing so.

For a moment, instinct nearly pulled him to his feet, but as his gaze swiveled, he found the source of said weight to be fast asleep, curled up against his chest and completely hidden beneath her arisaid.

A soft smile crossed his face, and Arthur just barely shifted closer, pressing his lips gently against her forehead. “Aye, selkie–what are ye doin’ to me?”

It wasn’t a matter of what she ‘was’ doing, but what she had been doing the moment their paths crossed. His path was so clear, his destiny short and bloodsoaked; now, he wanted nothing more than to spend a long, safe life beside this woman. This goddess of the sea. His selkie.

Arthur glanced up at the stars, slowly beginning to dim at faint rays of sunlight.

He allowed himself a moment to imagine it all–having a proper marriage to Olivia, racing on horseback through the shallows, slipping off to the secret cove he hadn’t visited since he was young and christening it with her scent.

He imagined streaks of brilliant white through her ruby-red hair, of his hand settled against the large swell of her stomach as little kicks occasionally pressed beneath his palm.

The crackling of a hearth, the sleepless nights curled in bed with a child of his own and a wife he…

“A-Arthur?”

He blinked, suddenly aware of Olivia’s body shifting in his grasp.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes as her arisaid slid down her chest and settled against her waist, exposing her breast to moonlight as her hair stood wildly out of place.

Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at the sight, standing upright himself before scooping his selkie up into his arms. “Come on; ye dinnae want to wake sore tomorrow.”

“I’ll be sore regardless,” Olivia teased, hand resting gently against her visibly-tender breasts. “Gracious, but imagine if we went further than that. I daenae think I would survive.”

Not that we could ever find out properly , Arthur thought somberly, shifting Olivia’s weight in his arms as he started back towards Marsden keep.