In Scot Water - Caroline Lee Page 0,19

the perfection nestled against her.

With a low groan, Malcolm reached into her bodice, which she hadn’t laced back up after nursing Tomas, and released one breast. He dropped his lips to the top of the mound while one hand cupped the back of her head. His fingertips scraped at her scalp, causing her to shiver, as his lips closed around her nipple.

It didn’t feel at all like a bairn.

She arched against him, whimpering with need, tightening her thighs around his waist.

His tongue dragged across her nipple, and although she’d always thought nursing had caused her to lose sensitivity in that area, she for certes felt that.

She felt it all, and—God in Heaven!—she wanted more.

“Malcolm!” she gasped, pushing her pelvis forward, loving the way her core cradled his heat. She gave a little whimper. “Please…”

He lifted his head from her breast, but replaced his lips with his hand, which felt almost as good. “Shh, love. I’ll make it better.”

Better? Any better and she might die!

But then his lips were on hers again, teasing and nipping. His tongue caressed hers, and she tasted her own milk. It was sweet and salty, mixed with the scent of his sweat and her soap, and caused her to gyrate desperately against him.

“Aye, lass,” he murmured against her skin, trailing kisses toward her ear. “ ’Tis the way.”

He rocked against her, his member pressed to her core. Despite the material between them, each rock—each thrust—brought her closer to the edge. His tip caressed the spot she most needed the pressure, and despite how badly she ached to have him inside her, she knew she was going to explode before they reached that point.

She stiffened, and he straightened. Blessed Mother, she wanted to hold onto this feeling, this anticipation forever. Squeezing her eyes shut, she breathed his name. “Malcolm.”

He flexed, his cock sliding along her core, and her eyes flew open.

He was staring at her as he rocked again.

“Come for me, lass,” he whispered. “Find yer pleasure.”

It was the command in his voice. The command, mixed with the absolute sweetness.

That, and the way his fingers wrapped around her nipple and tugged. The sensation was connected directly to her core.

Her eyes widened on a gasp, and she jerked against him.

As her climax burst over her, he caught her cry with his mouth, and she could do naught more than rock against him. Over and over again, as she rode out her pleasure.

Chapter 4

It rained all night.

Malcolm knew that for a fact, because he wasn’t certain he’d slept much, if at all. The only way he could tell it was dawn was the fact the chickens began stirring.

But he didn’t move, not yet. Instead, he lay there on the pile of hay, his hands stacked behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. Beside him, the cow shifted her weight, and he briefly spared a moment to consider the state of the poor animal’s hooves, standing in mud day in and day out.

Not surprisingly, bovine hoof rot did little to distract him from the topic which had occupied his mind—and his imagination—most of the night.

Evelinde.

St. Thomas’s nutsack!

The feel of her pressed against him, the feel of her quivering and arching as she thrust herself against him, again and again had been enough to make him damn near soil his borrowed blanket.

Last night, she’d climaxed just by rubbing her sweet, hot core against the length of his cock. Just by rubbing!

And after, she’d pressed her cheek against his chest, and he’d held her, and everything had been perfect.

He’d been the one to ruin things, of course.

“Evie,” he’d whispered against her hair, his lips caressing the sound, as he fought to maintain his control.

And she’d jerked away from him so suddenly, he had to fumble to hold her on the table. But then she was pushing away from him, sliding from the table and untangling her legs from her skirts. Her breast was still hanging from her bodice when she scrambled for the loft where Liam slept.

At the top she’d turned once to look at him, and he couldn’t decide if it was fear or embarrassment in her eyes.

Too soon.

He’d pushed her too soon.

But damnation! He’d been certain kissing her had been a calculated risk! He’d been certain that was desire he’d seen in her eyes, the same desire he’d felt!

Had he been wrong?

Uncertain if she was planning on coming back down, Malcolm had banked the coals and climbed over the divider to the animal half of the building.

Where he