Highland Warlord - Amy Jarecki Page 0,49

prone to him—in giving herself to his wicked mouth. Heaven help her, his tongue turned her wanton as he swirled it so close to the place that ached for him.

“Och, ye smell like heaven,” he growled.

She whimpered wanting, craving more, but not knowing what. Gripping the bedclothes in her fists, she rocked her hips while James watched her with those black eyes, his tongue working magic. With a devilish chuckle, he licked the most secret part of her body, making her sizzle with need while her thighs shuddered.

“Mercy!” she cried, arching her back.

Rather than ease away, the black knight grew ruthless in his attack. His fingers swirled in tandem with his wicked tongue. Ailish gasped again when he slid his finger inside her. Good heavens, her core was incredibly moist and slick as if her body knew what to expect.

Him. His manhood.

The fiend worked his finger back and forth as he continued his merciless kissing.

His delightful, ravenous kissing.

Her eyes rolled back, and her hips rocked erratically, unashamedly in tandem with the escalation of desire—a craving low in her belly demanded more, threatening to send her to the brink of insanity if he dared to stop. His finger worked faster. Stars darted through her vision. Her breath came in short gasps.

“More,” she said, her voice far and distant as if it weren’t even hers. But as the word escaped her throat, the rumble of his deep chuckle reverberated against her thighs. He swirled his tongue faster, matching the rhythm of his insistent finger. Ailish gasped, tossing her head from side to side as if she were a demon possessed, craving more, unable to focus on anything but the ripples of need pooling inside “Don’t stop! Please!”

At once, her eyes flew open, a cry caught her throat as her body shattered. Her breath came in short gasps as if she’d just run for miles. What had he done to render her helpless?

When Ailish’s vision cleared and her breathing eased, she shifted her gaze to James. “Have I gone completely mad?”

“Nay, lass.” He grinned, his gaze filled with the same desire she’d just experienced. “I just made love to you with my mouth.”

“Oh.” She glanced to his loins, knowing full well what lay beneath his jerkin. “You still have not been pleasured?”

“My pleasure comes from seeing your desire fulfilled.”

“But—”

He tapped a finger to her lips. “Wheesht. I’ll not take your innocence, lass.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Bloody hell,” James mumbled under his breath as the wagon inched along, stuck behind a herd of cattle crossing the border.

“The bridge over the river is awfully narrow,” said Ailish, holding an old blanket closed at her nape, doing her best to appear matronly.

“And we’ll be here half the day waiting for those laggard drovers to move the herd across.” James tilted his head to better see out from under his hood. Aside from the three sentries at the crossing, he counted only two archers standing guard atop the wooden ramparts just beyond the river. But no matter what he saw, there were more.

Ailish tapped her toes against the footrail. “This is making me nervous.”

The whole debacle not only made him nervous, it made him want to be reckless and ride ahead to tell the drovers to move their beasts aside and let him pass. But doing so would only make the soldiers suspicious. “Act as if you haven’t a care.” James glanced back to Her Ladyship’s horse tied to the back of the wagon. The beast was sturdy enough, but he wasn’t a warhorse. He gave his men a subtle nod as well. All four had moved in closer for the crossing. “As long as everyone remains calm, we’ll pass through without trouble.”

The blanket slipped back on her crown as she craned her neck. “It’s just so unnerving.”

James tugged it back up and pulled his hood lower over his brow as well. “All you need to worry about is keeping your face concealed. The less they see of you the more difficult it will be for them to remember what you look like.”

She smiled and batted her lashes. “Aye, sir.”

When she looked at him like that, he thought of nothing but taking the lass into the wood and ravishing her. “Just do not bat those saucy eyes at the sentries.”

“I would not dream of doing so.”

At long last, James drove the wagon across the bridge. He was stopped on the far side by a snarly sentry dressed in mail and wearing a pointed helm with an iron nose-guard. The man