Page 52 of The Laird's Wicked Game
The sight was so erotic that his release slammed into him like a battering ram, and he thrust deep one last time. Blood thundered in his ears, and pleasure shot up his spine.
“Kylie!” he choked as his loins spasmed once more and he ground into her. In response, she gave a raw, guttural groan.
They collapsed on the sheepskin, spooned together with Rae still buried to the hilt inside her heat. And for a while, neither of them spoke. He couldn’t have formed a coherent sentence if he tried. Over the past months, their coupling had been passionate, surprising even, but the force of his climaxes still took him by surprise.
Afterward, it felt as if he were drifting amongst the clouds, bathed by sunlight.
Eventually, he roused himself from the torpor that risked sending him to sleep. Reaching up, he stroked the back of his hand over Kylie’s soft cheek. “I got carried away, lass,” he murmured, suddenly concerned that she hadn’t yet said anything. “I didn’t hurt ye, did I?”
“No,” she said, her voice deliciously husky. “That was …” Her voice trailed off, as she searched for the words to describe what they’d just done.
Rae’s lips curved. “Wild?”
She gave a soft, shaky laugh. “Aye.”
They fell silent once more, while he gently stroked the tender skin of her shoulder and flank. She had such a soft, delicious body—one that he’d developed an obsession with. It had become a challenge at mealtimes not to stare at her. Every gesture she made, no matter how innocent, caused his gut to ache with longing. And his rod often stood to attention at the most inconvenient of times.
The truth was that once a week wasn’t enough.
He craved to take her to his bedeverynight.
Rae didn’t tell Kylie so though, for he didn’t want to alarm her. He was aware his feelings for his lover had grown more intense of late, but he was equally aware of the agreement they’d struck. As such, he kept his thoughts to himself now.
Even so, he wanted more than just her body. They often talked after coupling, and shared most meals together, with his family present, of course. But despite his vow to keep an emotional distance between them, he now wanted to spend time with her, alone—to unravel her secrets and learn her innermost thoughts.
“As it’s Yule, I wish to invite ye to supper with me this eve,” he said, breaking the silence between them once more. “Will ye accept?”
“Just the two of us?” she asked sleepily.
“Aye.” She didn’t answer immediately, and, curse him, his belly tightened in response. Despite that their encounters often blazed hotter than a smith’s forge, Kylie kept her emotions on a tight leash. The woman could be inscrutable, and now was one such occasion.
A pause lengthened between them before she finally replied, “Is that wise, Rae?”
He loosed a sigh before leaning his head forward and skimming his lips over her shoulder. “It’s just supper … nothing that should make anyone suspicious.” He paused then. “And it’s been a while since we shared a meal together alone.”
She shivered, a sigh of her own escaping as his lips trailed up to her neck. Her braided hair made it easy for him to caress her there, and he gently nipped her skin with his teeth. The soft sound she made in the back of her throat then—and the way she sinuously ground herself back against him, causing his rod, still buried inside her, to harden—caused his thoughts to scatter.
“Very well,” she replied, her voice breathy now. “Just one supper can’t hurt.”
20: STRAYING OVER THE LINE
SEATED OPPOSITE RAE, Kylie helped herself to a slice of walnut-studded bread and tore off a crust, dipping it into the bowl of thick mutton and neep stew. Then, taking a mouthful, she chewed slowly.
“This is delicious,” she murmured, reaching for her goblet of wine. “Just when I thinkCadha can’t improve on her skills, she surprises me.”
Rae’s lips tilted into a boyish smile. “Aye, there’s nothing like a hearty stew when there’s a blizzard outside.”
Indeed, a snowstorm had blown in with the gathering dusk, and outdoors, snow fell in thick, silent drifts. Nonetheless, it was cozy inside the laird’s solar, with the fire crackling and Storm—not making mischief at this hour—curled up before it.
Kylie took another mouthful of stew and searched for something to say.
What was wrong with her this evening? She was usually so comfortable in Rae’s company—never at a loss for words. But not now. In the aftermath of their torrid joining earlier in the day, a lump of dread had settled in her belly. That afternoon, she’d helped Tara make Christmas wreaths downstairs in the hall, with the help of Ailean and Lyle. They were decorating the hall for Yuletide with banks of candles and garlands of ivy and pine. It now smelled like a forest glade. However, Kylie had found it difficult to focus on her task. And as afternoon slid into evening, her uneasiness had grown.
She and Rae had strayed over a line.
They had to cross back.
Clearing her throat, she picked up her goblet then and took a fortifying gulp. “We should be more careful in the future,” she said softly. “Someone might have seen us today … or heard us.”