Page 25 of Under the Spell of a Highland Healer (Tales of the Maxwell Lasses #6)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

H ugo’s hands were like a vice where they wrapped around Abigail’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together. It took only moments for Abigail’s need to flair up inside her, threatening to consume her whole, and the moment she was in his arms, she couldn’t help but crave more.

It was far from the first time that Abigail had found herself in a room that several people frequented, kissing a man, but even for her, the drawing room seemed like a risky choice. It wasn’t as quiet as the library or one of the spare rooms on the first floor. Her sister could show up at any time, and Abigail would have no excuse to give her. Servants could walk in at any moment, and that would be even worse.

She didn’t even allow herself to consider the possibility of Domnhall catching them like this. The humiliation would simply be too much to bear, and Abigail would have to make sure that their paths never crossed again for the rest of their lives.

But her need for Hugo was too much to resist him or to even put a pause to their activities so they could find a more secluded place—a bedroom, for one, which seemed like the ideal option. She ached for him, and separating for even a few moments seemed like a herculean task, one that she couldn’t entertain in that moment.

“I want you,” Hugo whispered against her lips, and that sealed her fate.

Abigail lost herself to the kisses Hugo gave her, one after the other stealing her breath until she had no choice but to pull back with a gasp. He seemed just as eager as she was, and that only served to spur her on, stoking the flames of her desire.

With a decisive nod, Abigail reached between their bodies and cupped Hugo’s length over his trousers, drawing a broken moan out of him. She shushed him quickly, pausing for a moment to see if she could hear anyone approaching, but there were no signs of anyone else’s presence near them.

“Ye must be quiet,” she said, lips brushing over the corner of his mouth. “We dinnae want anyone tae hear us.”

A soft sigh escaped Hugo, but otherwise, he made no sound as Abigail began to stroke him slowly. She had always loved the way men were driven crazy by her kisses and her touches, and now that she had Hugo in her mercy, it was no different. If anything, that satisfaction was even stronger as she watched him fall apart because of a simple touch.

A part of her couldn’t help but wonder why she had never done this before. Another part was glad that she was experiencing it with Hugo for the first time. Anything she lacked in experience, she figured she could make up for in enthusiasm, and she was nothing if not enthusiastic as she pulled Hugo into another kiss.

Under her fingers, Hugo’s manhood twitched as it hardened, showing her his interest. His hands found her rear and he squeezed the ample flesh, drawing a soft moan out of Abigail, as his lips trailed a heated path down her jaw and neck, kissing and sucking on her sensitive skin.

Before long, Hugo was achingly hard under her touch, his thighs trembling as he tried to stop himself from thrusting against Abigail. As much as she liked to toy with him, hearing the soft sounds he made and watching him as his eyes drooped shut with this half-pleasure, she also wanted to feel him, to touch him properly like they both craved, and so she quickly undid his trousers to pull his manhood out of its confines.

At the first touch of skin against skin, they both gasped, sharing the air between them. Hugo finally gave in to the temptation and gave a slow, languid thrust of his hips, shivering as Abigail tightened her grip on him and claimed his lips once more. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, parting his lips to curl his tongue around hers, and Abigail couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, which thankfully muffled the sound.

Soon, Hugo’s hands began to pull at her dress. They both knew that they couldn’t simply discard all their clothes while they were in the drawing room, but Hugo seemed intent on exposing as much of Abigail to his gaze as he could, tugging at her neckline until her breasts spilled out of it. Once again, she could only imagine that she looked entirely indecent, more so than being entirely nude. Her lips were slick, her face flushed and her nipples hardened with arousal, and Hugo stared at her as though he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

When he was satisfied with her state of undress, his hand reached under her dress instead, instantly finding her entrance. Once again, they both gasped as his fingers circled her, two of them pushing inside with no resistance.

Abigail had to bite hard on her bottom lip to keep herself quiet as Hugo pumped his fingers inside her once, twice, three times, the slick sound of them louder than she would have thought in the quiet of the room. Then, he removed them and brought them to his mouth, licking around the digits with a soft groan.

Abigail’s mind stopped working.

“You taste divine,” he said, his hand slipping under her dress once more to pleasure her, fingers rubbing over her folds. “Already so wet for me. I want to sink inside you and never leave.”

Abigail would be lying if she said she didn’t want the exact same thing. “Please,” she whispered against his lips, desperately pulling him closer. “Please, Hugo.”

Without another word, Hugo grabbed her and draped her over the side of the couch, much to Abigail’s surprise. She yelped before she could stop herself, the sudden maneuver leaving her disoriented as the armrest of the couch dug into her stomach, but before she could ask what it was that Hugo was doing, he hurriedly pushed her dress up to her waist and spread her legs apart with his hands, until the left one fell off the armrest completely.

The wantonness of the position didn’t slip Abigail’s mind. She was entirely exposed to him and to anyone who could walk in, her rear up and her legs spread wide as her chest was pressed to the seat of the couch, nipples brushing over the velvet fabric with every breath she took.

She quickly found she didn’t care. All it did was make her run even hotter, her desire doubling as Hugo knelt behind her and pressed his lips against her entrance.

The first touch of them on her heated skin had Abigail clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her moan. Hugo’s tongue was like a branding iron, hot and insistent as it licked over her, tasting her as the tip plunged just inside her until she couldn’t stop the pleas that tumbled from her mouth.

The assault of sensations was maddening. Pleasure shot through her every time her nipples or that sensitive spot between her legs brushed against the couch, every time Hugo speared her with his tongue or ran it gently over her folds in a teasing touch. When his fingers joined his efforts, pushing deep inside her, her entire body spasmed and her walls twitched around him, every fiber of her being begging for more.

Hugo’s teeth clamped around the flesh of her rear as he thrust his fingers deep inside her, curling them in that way that always had Abigail falling apart. Her wetness coated her folds, her thighs, and when she looked at Hugo over her shoulder, she saw that his lips were slick with it, too, shining under the light of the afternoon.

She also saw that he had his other hand wrapped around himself, tugging at his manhood as though he could hardly contain his need.

“Inside me,” Abigail said, as she pushed herself up as best as she could. The movement had Hugo’s fingers slipping even deeper and for a moment she froze, having to suppress an eager moan. “I want ye inside me.”

With a growl, Hugo stood and grabbed Abigail once again, manhandling her until he was sitting on the couch and she in his lap, straddling his hips. One of her hands grabbed a fistful of his hair, and Hugo moaned as she tugged, so loud that Abigail had to put her other hand firmly over his mouth.

“Quiet now,” she reminded him, just as Hugo guided himself inside her. As he entered her, Abigail had to struggle to remember her own command—that she, too, had to remain quiet.

When she let go of him, Hugo looked at her, dazed, drunk with lust, and said, “Ride me.”

Abigail didn’t need to be told twice. She braced herself with one hand on Hugo’s shoulder and began to roll her hips, sinking down onto his length until he was sheathed completely inside her. Under her thighs, Hugo trembled and his hands came to rest on Abigail’s waist, guiding her rhythm as they writhed against each other. Her other hand trailed a path down his chest, fingers brushing over the swell of his muscles again and again over his shirt, but her gaze never strayed from his dark eyes, which were focused entirely on her.

With every roll of her hips, Hugo filled Abigail to the brim, his length stretching her and reaching deep inside her. She soon found that if she moved just right, his manhood would hit a spot inside her that left her breathless, pleasure coursing through her every time the tip brushed that place.

Abigail did it again and again, greedy in her search of release. There was nothing but the slick sound of their coupling in the room, nothing but their labored breaths as they took pleasure from each other—at least until Abigail’s walls tightened in response to a particularly hard thrust and Hugo moaned so loud that it echoed off the walls.

After that, it seemed impossible for him to hold back, the moans tumbling out of him unbridled, and so Abigail clamped her hand over his mouth once more, muffling his desperate sounds as much as she could.

She was so close to her climax, she could feel it building inside her, that familiar, tantalizing pressure gathering in her belly. She was soaked, her movements spreading her wetness over Hugo’s lap and all over her thighs, but neither of them cared about the mess she was making. All Abigail cared about was reaching that peak, and after a few thrusts, she finally did, clamping down on Hugo’s manhood as she collapsed on top of him.

His groan was silenced by Abigail’s hand, and so were the animalistic grunts he let out as he grabbed her hips and bucked up into her hard, setting a punishing rhythm as he chased his release. Distantly, Abigail was stunned by the strength Hugo must have had to hold her aloft like this, nothing but his hands holding her weight as he took her hard and fast until they were both shaking. Abigail was oversensitive, the stimulation verging into too much, but after a few more pumps, Hugo stilled as he spilled inside her, panting wildly against her hand.

Abigail had never experienced something as intense, as passionate as this. Her core still pulsed with pleasure, the last waves of her climax still crashing over her. Hugo’s length responded to it, each clench of her walls prompting a twitch from him that had her shuddering still.

Slowly, Abigail let her hand fall from Hugo’s mouth and he laughed breathlessly, letting his head fall back with a sigh. His hands reached for her once more, petting her breasts, his thumb circling a nipple teasingly.

“Did ye nae have enough?” Abigail asked, batting his hand away playfully only for Hugo to put it back right where he had it.

“I told you, I want to stay inside you forever,” he reminded her, rolling his hips to punctuate his point in a way that had them both hissing with oversensitivity. “I'll take you again and again, all night long.”

Abigail had no doubts that Hugo would do that if given the chance, though she couldn’t imagine how many times they could possibly do this before she was too exhausted for another round.

“I cannae believe we did this in Domnhall’s drawin’ room,” Abigail said with a chuckle, as she laid her head on Hugo’s shoulders, humming when he caressed her hair. “We should dress an’ make sure we are proper. What if someone finds us?”

“We will,” Hugo assured her, but made no effort to get up. Instead, he pushed Abigail back a little until he could look her in the eyes and smiled softly, his hand cupping her cheek. “I love you. I want to be with you, always.”

Abigail blinked, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. She wasn’t entirely certain what it was that Hugo was saying. She had been trying to ask him about this very thing all this time, and now she was only getting a half-answer.

Before she could ask for clarification, Hugo added, “Will you marry me? When this is all over?”

Abigail didn’t hesitate for even a moment before she nodded enthusiastically, pulling Hugo into a kiss. Hugo laughed against her lips, delighted, and Abigail couldn’t help but echo the sound, relieved not only to know that Hugo wanted to marry her but also that she didn’t have to ask him what he wanted from her, after all.

“O’ course I’ll marry ye,” she said when they parted, beaming at him. “I love ye, Hugo.”

“I love you too, ma cherie ,” Hugo said. “And I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

“Ye must ask me faither first,” Abigail reminded him as she stood, trying not to wince as her sore thighs complained at the movement. “But I’m sure he will be more than happy tae give ye me hand.”

Hugo didn’t respond, but when Abigail turned to look at him as she righted her dress, he had a troubled look on his face. “Will he?” he asked. “What if he… I have nothing, Abigail. No title, nothing to?—”

Abigail was quick to press her hand over his mouth once more, shushing him. “None o’ that matters,” she assured him. “Dinnae fash. All that matters tae me an’ all that will matter tae me faither is that ye love me. That is more than enough.”

Abigail didn’t need anything else. She didn’t care about wealth or land or titles. She only cared about love, and that was precisely what Hugo gave her.