said.
The smile widened, but the hand did not move. “Much more specific.”
He unclasped the pin on his shoulder, holding his plaid in place, and her eyes widened, her fingers tightening so barely that one might not even notice. One might not notice, that was, if one were not fully riveted to the woman in question, hard and hot and desperate for her.
He was naked in seconds, his cock hard and aching for her.
Her eyes widened, and she—dammit—she licked her lips, her gaze trained on him. “More specific, even, than that.”
“I desire that you move your hand, lass,” he said, approaching the bed and staring down at her, reveling in her glorious nudity. “So that I might have a closer look at you.”
She raised a brow. “Only a look? Is that some kind of Scottish half measure?”
His lips twitched at her teasing and he let his burr take over. “Once I’ve seen ye, lass, if yer lucky, I might touch ye, and once I’ve touched ye, ye can wager I’ll be tastin’.”
She laughed then, wild and free, like the Highlands. “I think, Mr. Stuart,” she whispered, moving her hand, revealing a thatch of secret, stunning auburn hair, “that if ye’ll be touchin’ me, it’ll be you who is lucky.”
And she was right. He was the luckiest man alive. For the night.
To honor that good fortune, he laid himself down next to her, and proceeded to do all he’d promised, whispering to her the whole time, revealing her secrets in the little room as he made love to her. “So soft,” he said at her ear, his lips lingering over the soft skin of her neck. “So wet.” He licked, worrying the lobe between his teeth as he slipped a finger through her folds, drenched with her desire. “So warm,” he said, that finger sliding deep and returning again and again, swirling and petting and stroking until she was writhing beneath him and he moved to her breast.
He licked, long and slow, before taking the straining tip between his lips and sucking, soft and rhythmic, in time to the movements of his hand, and she came off the bed like she was pulled on a string, one hand threading into his hair, the other finding his, strong and sure below, slowing it as she rode her climax to its glorious end.
And it was glorious. She turned pink with pleasure, with excess. And when she settled, sighing his name and opening those eyes to meet his, he could see that her thoughts had scrambled.
She dragged his mouth to hers once more, kissing him slow and deep and thorough.
And when she released him, he said, “I desire it again.”
Her eyes went wide and her lips curved into a little O. He moved, this time spreading her thighs apart with his shoulders and lifting her to his mouth with one arm, turning her into his banquet. Loving her with his hands and mouth until she came apart in his arms, his name first a whisper and then a scream on her lips.
And when she’d collapsed once more in a heap on the bed, he pressed soft kisses to her stomach and whispered, “You, Lily. It will always be you. Everything. Always. You,” until her breathing returned to normal and he growled, “Again,” before pressing his mouth to the center of her, where she glistened, warm and pink and sated.
“Alec,” she sighed, barely able to find the words. “Please. Love. What of you?”
As though there were anything in the word that would give him more pleasure than the taste of her on his lips and the sound of her in his ears and the feel of her in his hands.
One last time.
“Once more,” he said. “Once more.” And he made love to her with slow, slick strokes, gentle and slow, honoring her. Worshipping her. Pleasuring her until she found her rhythm once more, moving in time to his strokes, to her own desire. Until she came again, hard and long and magnificent, her hands in his hair and his name on her lips.
This.
This was what he would think of when he was old.
He had destroyed her with pleasure.
She was in pieces on the bed, without ability to move or even think, when he came up to lie beside her, to hold her as she trembled, weak from his hands and mouth and words. She turned into him, his large, warm arms coming around her.
“You betrayed me,” she said to his broad chest, rubbing her cheek across