Fury of a Highland Dragon (7 page)

T
he desire in Tydrin’s eyes threatened to do her in. Her heart throbbed, kicking hard as he trailed his fingers over the lace edging her bra. She shuddered beneath him. He continued to tease, his gentle touch designed for one purpose—to amp her up and drive her crazy. A great plan. At least, for him. For her, it was fast becoming more complicated. With each barely there caress, she lost a little more of her mind. His soft groans of appreciation weren’t helping. The praise he whispered, calling her beautiful, telling her how much he wanted her and—

Just like that, it was over.

She was done. Beyond help. Torn open, exposed in an emotional landscape with a target on her back. Point and shoot, ’cause…wow. She’d been hit, and now was wholly his. Ensnared by the look in his eyes. Enthralled by the timbre of his voice as she struggled to do as he asked and be patient.

Patience
. Such a difficult thing to achieve.

She’d always been more of a doer. A giver, not a taker. And guess what? Her
charge into the fray, get it done
attitude always served her well. Until today. Tydrin wasn’t cooperating. He expected her to lay still and allow him to love her. The switch up—the denial of her type A personality—shoved her into uncharted territory, leaving her without a reference. Now she drifted, anchored only by him as he took his time, refusing to let her rush him.

Weird. Most guys couldn’t wait to get inside a girl and the body-bumping bliss. But as Tydrin explored, feeding her more pleasure than she’d ever known, comprehension arrived. It knocked on her mental door, and as she opened it, Ivy finally understood. She’d been asking all the wrong questions. She needed to reframe things, move toward important questions like: was sex supposed to be this good? Was it as fantastic for other people as it was for her right now? And lastly—why the hell hadn’t she demanded pleasure like this from all those other guys?

Tydrin flicked her with his tongue, wetting her through the lace.

Sensation crested in a wave of delight.

Her nipples tightened. Ivy moaned. The hard edge of his teeth—the press of his hips between her thighs, the heat of his breath on her skin—felt so good. Beyond anything she’d ever experience and…all right. Time for a little honesty.
All those other guys
—the ones she’d mentioned earlier?—qualified as a big fat lie. Ivy suppressed the urge to cringe. The sum total of her sexual experience consisted of two guys, one in high school, the other while working at INP Securities.

Neither had ended well.

Or given her half as much pleasure as Tydrin.

Awe sank deep. Tipping her head back, Ivy tried to hold on, but…holy crap. The way he affected her was demented. Supernatural or something. Had to be. She couldn’t find another explanation. Tydrin turned her into an inferno of need without even trying. Case in point? She wasn’t even naked yet and she could feel the orgasm coming, bubbling up from hidden depths, scorching her with the rumble of approaching heat. She squirmed, begging without words to be taken.

 In no hurry, he fiddled at the front clasp of her bra and dipped his head. The heat of his mouth touched her. Her breath hitched. He flicked at her skin before stringing kisses over the top of her breast. She moaned his name.
Oh, yes, please. Come on.
She wanted him so badly. Needed what he promised. Teasing her, he tugged one strap off her shoulder. His mouth touched down again, following the slow slide of satin and lace and…

Please, please, please…

“Take it off.” Breathing hard, she arched beneath him. “I want it off. All of it—
off
.”

His mouth curved. “Naughty lass. Still think you’re in charge, do ye?”

She scowled at him. “Tydrin.”

“I thought we agreed you’d be patient.”

“I thought we agreed you’d give me an orgasm.”

He chuckled. “Oh, we’ll get tae that, lovely.”

“Before or after I go insane?”

“Impatient lass.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in genuine remorse. She’d promised not to rush him, to lay back and let him lead, but desperation made a girl do crazy things—like push a man-dragon into making love to her. Bold to the next power. Probably not the wisest move, all things considered. Ivy didn’t care. She couldn’t wait much longer. He made her feel too much, yet not nearly enough. Everything and nothing at all. “But I need you. I don’t think I can handle slow the first time.”

“The first time,” he repeated, tone low and soft. Lifting his head, he focused on her face. He studied a second before his gaze dipped to the aroused points of her nipples. He watched her breathe, registering the quick rise and fall of her chest, reading her need, letting her see his own. Desire heightened the color riding the edge of his cheekbones. The shimmer in his eyes intensified, painting her in purple wash. Excitement skittered down her spine as Tydrin bared his teeth on a growl. “All right, Ivy. You win. Faster this time, slower the second.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he said, kissing her. “Everything about you is a pleasure.”

Pride swamped her. Self-confidence followed fast on its heels. Oh so nice. Beautiful without end. He wanted her. Really
wanted
her. He was a dream come true, a man willing to forgo his needs in favor of assuaging hers.

Raising her hand, she cupped his face. “You’re the incredible one.”

He shook his head and planted his hands on either side of her. The mattress dipped as he pushed up. The sheet fell away, baring his body. She sucked in a quick breath as her eyes roamed. Oh glory days. He was gorgeous, all hard muscle and golden skin. Long, strong and lean. A wide-shouldered, hard-bodied dream. Unable to stop staring, she looked her fill. Tydrin let her, staying still as her gaze trailed lower and…umm. Would you look at that? Pure male perfection standing at attention. Hot and hard and ready, one hundred percent committed to her pleasure.

She licked her bottom lip. Her eyes rose to meet his. She reached out. “I want to taste you.”

He caught her wrist, stopping her from touching him. “Not this time.”

“But—”

“Later. You get that gorgeous mouth anywhere near me right now, and I won’t last.” Pushing out her bottom lip, she pouted. He grinned and, shaking his head, threw his leg over her. Straddling her hips, towering over her, he ran his finger down the center of her chest. She arched beneath the teasing caress. He paused, hovering over her breasts before flicking at her bra. “Take it off for me.”

Ivy didn’t hesitate.

She reached for the front clasp. Hard plastic slid against her fingertips. She fumbled a second, struggling to undo a fastening she opened and closed everyday. Frustration rose. Ivy shoved it back down. No need for any of that. Not right now. She refused to become flustered with Tydrin watching. She longed to please him instead. Show him how much she wanted him. Be the one to surrender. Give him all he asked and everything he needed.

Feeling for the seam, she tried again. The clasp gave way with a click. Determined to be bold, she drew the lace aside, uncovering herself, watching him watch her. Cold air washed over her skin. Furled into tight buds, her nipples tingled, begging for the heat of his mouth.

“Gorgeous.” His lips parted on a ragged intake of breath. “You’re beautiful, Ivy. Every last inch of you.”

Politesse urged her to thank him again. Held captive by his reaction, Ivy swallowed her reply in favor of staying quiet. No sense chancing it. She refused to break the mood. Not with him staring at her with longing in his eyes. The sight of his need heightened her own. Lust narrowed its focus, funneling into desperation.

Ivy wiggled her hips, urging him on. She needed his touch, for him open the flood gates of desire and teach her about passion. Show her the real kind. The hot burn instinct insisted she’d never once experienced. Not before tonight. Never before him. Her illness made exercise and exertion difficult. Almost impossible, really. A huge disappointment, the defining factor in her sexual evolution. She’d suffered the limitation all her life.

But not anymore.

Tydrin had taken care of the problem, freeing her from asthmatic chains. Now she could feel to her heart’s content. Let go of the fear. Delve deep into blistering need. Burn hot beneath his hands and give as good as Tydrin gave her.  

He shifted, dismounting to kneel beside her. “Lift up.”

Pressing her shoulders into the rumpled quilt, Ivy raised her bottom off the bed. The button of her jeans popped. His callused fingertips brushed her belly. Bliss whispered her name as Tydrin grasped her zipper. The quiet zing of metal on metal broke through the quiet. The muscular planes of his chest rose and fell as he tugged at her jeans. Denim slipped over her hips and down her thighs. He groaned and reached out to cup her mound. The tips of his fingers stroked lower, caressing her through the cotton.

“God, yes.”

“Hmm, so hot, Ivy. So slick,” he said, voice low and raspy. “You’re soaked, so fucking wet.”

Undulating against the heel of his hand, she bit down on a moan. “Told you I couldn’t wait.”

“So I see and…” Trailing off, he hooked his fingers in her panties. With a tug, he drew the frilly cotton down her legs. Goosebumps pebbled her skin as he threw her clothes over the side of the bed. “I’m no better. I cannae go slow any longer, lass. I want you too much.”

“Perfect.”

“Spread your legs.”

Raising her knees, Ivy splayed her thighs open for him.

Gaze riveted to her, he smoothed his hands up her calves. Big hands cupped the backs of her legs, then skimmed higher. Need spiked. Her heart picked up the beat, rushing blood through her veins. Inner muscles pulsed, tightening her deep inside. The delightful throb thrust her hips up. With a groan, Tydrin pressed her knees up and out, spread her wider, preparing her for his touch.

His fingers brushed the curls between her thighs. She gasped as he sank between her folds, playing in her slickness, exploring her completely, pressing deeper with each caress. Ivy bucked against his hand. Oh God. Heat lightening. Pure bliss. Huge,
huge
pleasure from each mind-blowing stroke.

Tydrin caressed her again. And then again. Over and over. No end in sight. Zero relief on the horizon as he learned her shape. He exposed her clit. She froze, breath stalled in her throat as he circled the sensitive nub with the pad of his thump, then thrust one finger deep. Ivy threw her head back and her hips up. She needed more. More pressure. Deeper contact. All the bliss his fingers promised. Right now. Before she started begging out loud.

He pumped his hand. Thrust and withdraw. Advance and retreat. The diabolical rhythm drove her wild, but kept her on edge, never quite cresting. Now she teetered on the precipice—primed and desperate, a shimmer away from orgasm.

“Tydrin!”

“Ah, there it ’tis. I’ve almost got you begging.” He growled the last word and shifted toward her. “Come on, Ivy—beg me.”

“Please!” Her plea echoed in the quiet of the room. To hell with it. She didn’t care anymore. She craved the ecstasy. Wanted him thick and deep inside her. Needed the advance and retreat more than her next breath. Her pride could go to hell along with her convictions. “Please, please…
please
!”

“Grab the edge of the mattress.”

She reached above her head and took hold. The position thrust her breasts up. Withdrawing his hand, Tydrin settled between her thighs and took advantage. His head dipped. Soft as angel wings, his hair brushed across her breastbone. The heat of his mouth washed over her skin. Rapture whispered and sensation whiplashed, burning her from the inside out as he licked her nipple.

He suckled the tight bud, drawing pleasure through her pores.

Twisting beneath him, Ivy keened.

“Hang on tight, lovely,” he whispered, tongue playing at her breast. “It’s going tae be a wild, hard ride.”

Panting, so needy she couldn’t talk, Ivy tightened her grip. Tydrin set himself at her entrance and thrust inside. Her inner muscles stretched, struggling to accommodate him. He showed no mercy. With a growl, he conquered her, lighting up pleasure pathways, stealing her breath every time his pelvis met hers. Delight whipped at her. Need escalated and caught fire. She wrapped her legs around him. He groaned her name. She whispered back and, burying her hands in his hair, arched into his next thrust. Hard. Fast. Powerful personified. True to his word, he took her hard, sparking a desire-fueled inferno as he plunged deep, then retreated, rocking her in his arms.

“Oh God. Oh yes. Wow, wow, wow,” she said, each word a benediction.

“Ivy. Bloody hell—Ivy!”

“More, more, more,” she panted, holding on tight.

“Come for me.” Body slick with sweat, he upped the pace. His hips slammed into hers, lifting her off the bed. “Please, Ivy-mine, come for me.”

His plea unleashed her.

Ivy detonated, screaming as she came. He tightened around her. His breath rasped from his throat. Thrusting one last time, he pressed deep, held firm and—

He shouted her name.

She cried out as he pulsed inside her. God, yes. Sing it, sister. She’d done it. Given him so much pleasure he couldn’t let her go. He held on tight instead, voice horse with wonder as he whispered her name—over and over, again and again. Greedy in the aftermath, he kept her close, skin-to-skin and heart-to-heart, showing her the meaning of connection for the first time in her life. Emotion reached through the breach, and Ivy knew. She recognized the shift. Felt the undeniable pull, and no matter how unwise, couldn’t deny him.

He wanted her near. She needed to be right where she was—wrapped in his arms. A dangerous compulsion. A terrible threat to her peace of mind, an unwise risk to her heart. It didn’t matter. Here…right now…she welcomed him without fear. Lost more of herself. Accepted that throwing up psychological barricades and fleeing behind mental walls into self-protection would never work. It was too late for retreat. Her defenses were down. Now she couldn’t walk away.

Foolish, perhaps. A mistake in the making, no doubt.

Retreat would be smarter. A little vigilance, after all, went a long way. But even as the idea formed, Ivy acknowledged the futility.