The Highland Laird (Lords of the Highlands #8) - Amy Jarecki Page 0,58

turned it over and kissed her palm. “I am.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders, quite unsure of how to proceed. Instead, she allowed her instincts to take over and urged him down to the bed. “Then let me see you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Never in all his days had Ciar allowed himself to be utterly prone to a woman. But then he’d never worshipped a woman the way he did Emma. He reclined into the comfort of the mattress and closed his eyes.

“Where should I begin?” she asked.

“You’ve seen my face. How about starting there?” he asked, wondering how she would react when she discovered he was harder than an oak branch.

She kneeled beside him and cupped his cheeks. “My bonny man.”

Her hands brushed and swirled down his arms, tracing the lines of his muscles. “I already ken how strong you are.”

“Some call me a beast.”

Back up she went, rubbing her palms over his hairy chest. “You are no beast.”

He shuddered as she closed her mouth over his nipple. “Mm.”

“Do you like me to kiss you here?”

“Aye,” he croaked, unable to utter another word. His cock tapped his stomach, and if her warm tongue continued to tease him, he’d soon lose his seed.

Ciar allowed himself to breathe as her hands continued down his stomach. “Is every inch of you hard?”

“Yes,” he managed, his voice strained.

And then her fingers brushed his cock.

As they both gasped, Emma grew very still. “What is that?”

She didn’t know?

“My…sex.”

Understanding crossed her face while she boldly took hold of his shaft. “I…ah…never realized a man’s member could be so rigid.” Ciar’s eyes rolled back as she stroked her fingers along the length. “Is it always like this?”

“Of late.” He chuckled, stilling her hand. “But not usually. Whenever my cock grows hard, it means I want to be inside you.” Unable to stand the torture a moment longer, he coaxed her to her side, traced his finger along the curve of her hip and into the soft, coppery curls.

“Inside?” she asked.

“Here.” He slipped his finger through her parting and found the channel. Jesu, she was so wet, so ready, and he wanted her more than anything. “Like this, but the fit is much tighter.”

Gasping, she arched her back, her body shuddering. “Am I falling ill?”

“Nay, lass. You’re only beginning to experience the heat of passion.”

“There’s more?”

He moved over her, angling his shoulders between her legs. God, she smelled tempting. “The best is yet to come.”

She curled up, her fingers finding his hair and tugging. “I’m certain you shouldn’t be there!”

“Och, this is exactly where I ought to be.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her tiny button, gazing up the length of her. Such a stunning image—womanly hips tapering to a slender waist and breasts just large enough for his mouth. “Now lie back and allow pleasure to take you on the wildest adventure yet.”

The lass’s fingers released as she collapsed against the pillows.

“That’s better,” he purred.

Sliding his finger inside her, he tempted her slowly, watching her lips part with her stuttered breathing. In and out, around and around, deeper into her hot, wet core.

True to the lass’s adventurous nature, soon she draped her arms across her forehead and moved her hips with the rhythm. Tantalized by the seductive dance, Ciar’s cock throbbed and leaked a bit of seed.

Keeping his eyes upon her body, he continued stroking his finger as he licked her.

Gasping, Emma bucked. “My God!”

“Ride with it, mo leannan,” he growled, licking again.

When her hips worked faster, he clamped his mouth over her and suckled, rapidly moving his finger.

“I see…!”

But he didn’t stop to ask.

“I see staaaaaaaaars!” she cried with one final arch of her back.

His heart thrumming with wonder, Ciar gradually slowed the tempo, placing his hand on her mound of curls. “Stars?” he asked.

“Light darted through my eyes. I’m certain of it,” she gasped. “Is that normal?”

“Aye.” He crawled up beside her and traced a finger around her breast. “You described it perfectly—stars shooting through your vision. I’ve seen it before myself.”

“’Tis a miracle.”

“The joining of a man and a woman is God’s greatest gift.”

She rolled to her side and stroked his arm, her eyes closed as they oft were. “Is it like this every time?”

“It can be, but…”

“What?”

“I believe there is nothing in this world as staggering as when a man and a woman join in passion.”

Her beguiling fingers moved to his chest, and he shuddered at the lightness of her touch. No woman had ever brought him so close to losing control