Taming a Highland Devil (5 page)

When she leaned in to kiss the puckered white line slashed over his shoulder, he trembled and held her close. She lay her cheek against his chest and listened to his racing heartbeat. Was she strong enough to survive a marriage to this man? Would the worry drive her mad?

She was so tired of war.

For long moments, they remained tangled in a silent embrace, then a great weight seemed to leave his body. He pulled back, rearranged his garments and set her on the floor. “Come.”

Though wary of his sudden intensity, she took his proffered hand. “Where are we going?”

“I’ve made my decision.” He led her out of the kitchen. “I’m taking ye to my solar and claiming ye for my own.”

“Laird Sutherland!” Effie squealed, stunned by his announcement.

“Call me Magnus.” He squeezed her hand tighter and half dragged her down a darkened corridor.

“I’m not certain ye’ve thought this through.”

“I’ve made a great number of decisions in my life—some good, some bad—but never have I been more confident than I am about this one.”

Was this really happening? Excitement whirled inside her as she raced to keep up with his strides. Ian would have his alliance, and Vanna could easily secure another match. Effie found herself justifying reasons she could accept his decision. “M’laird—”

“Save your breath. I’ll not allow ye to dissuade me.” He entered his solar with confidence and pulled her inside.

Effie was momentarily mesmerized by the magnificence of his solar. A fire burned in the hearth, speckling the chamber with light. Mounted over the mantle was a targe engraved with the words,
Without Fear
. But what made her heart skitter was the enormity of a mahogany bed. Black damask silk formed a canopy overtop a mattress three times the size of the one she’d shared with her husband for sixteen years. She swallowed hard and might have fretted more had she not been distracted by the thud of boots to her right.

She turned to find Laird Sutherland standing atop a fur rug in front of the fire. He was naked—gloriously naked. Broad sinewy shoulders, rock-hard chest, long lean corded thighs. He was the prime of his species, but what made Effie gawk in wonder was the erection jutting outward from his furry, taut sac. He was big. Verra big.

Her body responded to his physique like firestorm. Heat engulfed her lower belly. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, but no words came out.

This was really happening!

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.” The merriment in his tone bordered on wicked. He stepped toward her.

She stepped back, fearful. Gavin had been the only man she’d ever been with, and she hadn’t been able to hold his interests. What if she didn’t please Laird Sutherland? ’Twas doubtful the Devil of Dunrobin would be content to have her on her back.

“Ye look terrified.” He wrapped his arms around her and leaned into her ear. “It will fit. I vow it.”

She smiled against his chest, thinking him arrogant. “’Tis not the size of your cock that concerns me.”

“Then what is it?”

“I fear I will disappoint ye,” she admitted.

“’Tis impossible.” He raised her chin. “I’m already half in love with ye.” When he covered her mouth with his, determination slammed the door on her timidity.

She wanted the other half, and was willing to do anything to have it. She suckled his tongue and toyed with his beaded nipples, attempting to be creative.

He responded with a deep moan and suckled her earlobe. “I’m going to taste every inch of ye before I claim ye. And then,” he flushed her body to his, squeezed her backside and pressed his hard cock against her belly, “I’m going to do it again.”

His muscles flexed beneath her hands just before he filled his fists with her garments and pulled her kirtle and undertunic over her head.

Embarrassment inflamed her skin, but she refused to cower. She raised her chin unashamed and allowed him to look his fill.

“My God, ye have beautiful breasts.”

“I know.” Effie’s lips curved at the corners. Emboldened by his compliment, she cupped her breasts and ran her thumbs over her nipples. They tingled and throbbed, stood erect, awaiting his attention.

His brows arched wickedly in the middle. “Ah, I found your fault. Ye are vain,” he teased, then molded his mouth around her nipple and sucked hard. He drew on it over and over, nipping, biting, making her moan with pleasure, then he moved to pay equal attention to her other breast.

As he bathed her skin in kisses, his long, slender fingers stroked her belly, her hips, her backside, causing ropes of ecstasy to whip through her body. Warmth flooded her, tightened her insides, dampened her thighs. Never had she known such arousal. ’Twas unbearable, yet exquisite.

Her nether lips swelled. Her clit grew painfully erect. Then he was there, between her thighs, dancing over the wet curls, massaging the place that needed him the most. He slid his index finger through the folds of her soaked slit then dipped inside.

She cried out, clung to his shoulders. Her eyes snapped open to meet his—dark blue, fierce, savage, hot. He kissed his way down her body, the curve of her belly, her hipbones, the fronts of her thighs, until he settled on his knees in front of her. His mouth hovered over her mound, his hot breath teasing her, making her insane, then the tip of his nose brushed her clit, causing her to jerk.

“I can smell your desire for me. ’Tis like a bouquet of burning flowers.” His husky voice deepened and the scruff of his unshaven jaw scratched her thighs.

“Please, Magnus,” she begged, using his given name, and liked the way it tickled her tongue so she whispered it again, “Magnus.”

“Tell me what ye want.”

The rogue knew what she wanted, but he taunted her with his fingers until she said the words. “I want your mouth on me.”

A slow, wicked grin lifted his lips just before he lowered her onto the fur rug with such speed it made her dizzy. He removed her boots and stockings, then spread her thighs wide and drew his tongue over the full length of her slit.

She bucked, clutched the sides of his head and pulled him closer until he plunged his tongue deep inside her. Holding her breath, she relished every rasp, every delicious flutter. He licked her greedily, exploring her folds, searching for the hidden places that made her respond the most.

When he circled her anus with his tongue, she tightened and gasped for much needed air, but he showed her no mercy. He pumped two fingers in and out of her and snuck his pinkie into the forbidden ring of her rectum.

She was mindless now, her body controlled her actions. Perspiration rolled over her neck, gathered behind her knees. She was either going to melt or combust. She quivered, quaked, her knees shook, but it still wasn’t enough. “I need ye.”

“Not yet.” He spread her sex wide with his thumbs and pulled back the thin layer of flesh covering her clit. He blew on it, flicked it with the tip of his tongue, then sucked it between his lips. The gentle scrape of his teeth was maddening, and just when she was certain she would lose consciousness, he released a rumbling growl that sent explosions of rapture ripping through her core.

She screamed and thrust her pelvis upward as her muscles contracted, flittered, throbbed, then a powerful climax flooded her woman’s core with hot liquid. Her chest burned. Her heart raced painfully as ripple after delicious ripple echoed throughout her entire being.

“Oh bleating Christ!”
That
had never happened before.

Confused and concerned, she looked down the length of her body and caught his all-knowing smile as he lapped up her juices like a lazy cat.

“’Twas your first climax?” He must have read her expression.

She could lie and save herself a great deal of embarrassment, but he looked positively pleased with himself. She opted to say nothing at all.

“Few women are capable of ejaculation. It pleases me verra much to know ye are one of the few.” He crawled up her body and shared the flavor with her. ’Twas musky, tangy…erotic.

She didn’t shy away from him, but his comment made her feel like his pupil. She’d been submissive the whole of her life. She’d been a dutiful wife, a complaisant daughter and a subservient sister. If truth be told, she was exhausted with the task of biting her tongue. She wanted to speak her mind, express her opinions openly without fear of contempt. And there was that voice inside her she wanted to crush—the voice that had always blamed her for driving Gavin into another woman’s bed. She could be passionate, bold…daring.

“Do let me know when ye’ve recovered.” Laird Sutherland—Magnus—she corrected mentally, supported himself overtop her and nibbled on her breasts.

“Ye are a verra wicked man.” She wiggled her way out from underneath him.

“’Tis true.” His bluster made her smile. “And ’twill take a verra wicked woman to satisfy me.”

She settled between his legs and wrapped her fingers around his cock. “I can be wicked.”

Magnus had known the joys of love play with many women, but never had he felt such a strong emotional connection with any of them. True, Lady Reay made his body burn, but she also made him yearn for something greater than the pleasures of the flesh. She made him yearn for love.

Part of him wanted to wait until they’d spoken their vows to consummate their marriage, but all thoughts of chivalry fled him when she looked up at him with those glittery emerald eyes and swiped the bead of semen off the top of his cock.

His heart thundered in his chest, waiting for her little pink tongue to sneak out and do it again. Tendons whelped in his arms as he attempted to caress her coppery locks with a gentleness he no longer possessed. She kissed his bollocks with her silky full lips, then trailed her tongue along the thick vein swelling the underside of his cock. She tortured him with quick licks, the barely-there flutter of her tongue, the cool and hot sensations of her breath.

“Aye, ye are wicked indeed.” He spread his legs a little wider and thrust upward, begging her without words to take him into her sweet mouth.

“Tell me what ye want.”

The vixen stole his game! He laughed on the inside and felt a sense of pride at the same time as she continued to toy with him. Oh, he enjoyed this woman. He suspected she lacked his experience, yet she exuded confidence. Albeit, she seemed to grow impatient waiting for his response. “I want your mouth on my cock.”

An impish grin tugged at her lips as both her slender brows popped up, one higher than the other. “Like this?” The temptress pressed a chaste kiss against the flat of his cock. “Or like this?” She gripped him with both hands and then finally curved her hot mouth over top of him.

“Oh, aye. Like that. Like that,” he breathed as his sensitive flesh brushed against the roof of her mouth. Needle-sharp pings of pleasure stabbed his bollocks. A groan rumbled in his chest, calling the beast inside him. He wrapped his fingers around her skull and pushed. “More.”

Eyes wide on him, she cupped his sac, curled her tongue around the base of his shaft and swallowed his cock. She bobbed in earnest, drawing her cheeks inward, sucking hard along the length of him.

“Oh Christ!” He pulled her hair, attempting to control the rhythm, but Lady Reay was proving to be an aggressive lover, which definitely wasn’t something he’d expected or been prepared for.

When she moaned her own pleasure around him, he shivered at the sensations. Hot flaming bolts darted through his cock as his seed spiraled its way out of his bollocks. He couldn’t control it. He was going to come.

“’Tis enough,” he growled in warning and tried to pull her off, but she held onto the root of him and refused to let go.

White bursts of light speckled his vision, forcing his eyes shut. He stiffened, went completely still, and then roared as his seed burst against the back of her throat. “Bluidy faugh, woman!”

He felt her smile as she milked him dry, then the lusty wench sat back on her heels and daintily wiped the corners of her mouth. “It seems ye’ve spent yourself prematurely, m’laird.” Her haughty expression only added to her appeal. “I confess I’m a wee bit disappointed.”

His chuckle sounded evil even to him. She wanted to play, did she?