Don't Give A Damn About My Plaid Reputation (Bad in Plaid 4) - Page 36

Her arms tightened around him and, panting, she tried to climb him. As he played with her nipple, she pulled herself higher along his body, instinctively wrapping her legs around his thighs, and then his hips, trying to get closer, closer, closer.

It wasn’t until he sucked in a harsh breath and pulled his lips from hers that she realized she’d placed her core—wet, pulsing, aching—against the base of his—his cock.

With a groan, his forehead dropped to hers. “Lass,” he gasped, “Ye’re killing me.”

But he didn’t stop teasing her nipple, and his other hand crept down to her rear end, to cup one cheek and lift her.

Robena decided that she liked the water very much after all.

“No’ yet,” she gasped. “Ye cannae die yet. No’ until—“

His rough palm cupped her breast again, and she broke off with a moan.

As he kissed her once more, she began to rock, to slide up and down his body. Subtly at first, her hips moving in an instinct older than she could guess. Each flex pushed his hardness against her pelvic bone and the bud hidden in her curls, where she needed the pressure.

Her left arm tightened around his neck, holding herself in place, while her right hand squirmed down between their bodies.

And before he could figure out what she was doing, her fingers closed around his thickness, marveling at the soft steel.

He stiffened for a moment, muttering a curse against her lips…and then melted as she gently stroked him. She had to lean away from him to have the space, but he didn’t fight her. His eyes were closed, an expression something like wonder on his face as her palm brushed against the tip of his cock.

Unable to resist such temptation, she curled her fingers through his hair, pulling his lips back to hers, at the same moment his hand dropped away from her breast.

His fingers brushed against her inner thigh, which was still wrapped around his waist, and she instinctively opened for him. When he brushed along her swollen, needy core, she moaned and dropped her head back.

“God’s Wounds, Robena,” he rasped. “Ye’re so hot. So ready.”

“Please,” she managed to whisper.

Her fingers were still curled around his hardness, but she couldn’t seem to make them move. Her entire being was focused on his fingers, and the way they teased, delving in and out of her folds, stroking, caressing.

And then he pushed one callused tip inside her, and she sighed at the sensation. “Aye,” she breathed, her eyes closed, her focus on that one delicious invasion. “More.”

“No’ yet,” he murmured, his lips finding her jaw, then her throat. “Soon.”

He stroked her, and the pleasure mounted. She was no novice when it came to pleasure, having experimented quite often on herself. But this…! The sensation of the cool water, and his warm body, and each move a surprise….

And his cock, of course. That was an added bonus.

The pad of his thumb found her clitoris and she gasped, her fingers tightening around him.

“Kester!”

Making a sound which might’ve been a chuckle, he pressed another finger inside her…and her inner muscles contracted hard.

“Aye,” he groaned, as she tightened around him—in every way. “Come for me, lass.”

Well, who was she to refuse such an order?

With another gasp, she flexed against him, feeling her pleasure mounting. He slid his fingers from her just slightly, then pressed into her again as his thumb brushed against her bud of pleasure.

And her pleasure burst white-hot behind her eyes.

She rode him.

There really wasn’t any other way to explain it. She rode him, rocking hard against him and his hand, her fingers locked around his cock as her belly and breasts slid along his hardness.

“Jesu Christo!” he gasped, his fingers digging into her arse cheek. “Aye, Robena….”

Tags: Caroline Lee Bad in Plaid Historical
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