Page 28 of Pretty in Plaid

“That’s it, love,” he crooned against her pulsing flesh.

“What...what was that?” She leaned up on her elbows to gaze at him through her cloud of pleasure.

Sorley looked mighty pleased with himself, a satisfied grin on his face. “That was your release, sweetling.”

“What a release it was. Does it happen every time? Can ye do it again?” She grinned mischievously.

“Och, I plan to do it over and over for the rest of our days.”

“Thank heavens.” She giggled. “That was something I could never go without again.”

Sorley chuckled as he climbed up onto the bed, his body hovering over her. Between her thighs, the hardness of his arousal pressed to the wetted curls of her sex. “And I only want your happiness.” He winked and kissed her thoroughly, bringing her body to trembling anticipation once more.

Settled between her thighs, he took his shaft in hand and glided it along her curls, over and over until she was practically begging for more. Oh, the torment her wicked rebel put her through. At last, he pushed at the entrance of her womanhood, inching slowly in. The stretch stung a little, and she wished for him to get it over with.

“Please,” she said hoarsely. “Just do it.”

“I dinna want to hurt ye.”

“I can take it, Sorley. And if not, there is always my dagger.”

He chuckled and kissed her, moving his lips to her neck and then her mouth. As his tongue demanded a duel with her own, he surged forward through her maidenhead in a swift thrust.

Kenna stiffened around him, kissed him more fiercely, hoping that doing so would alleviate the pain of his entry.

And it did. Within a few moments, she no longer felt the pain, and budding frissons of pleasure returned, building as Sorley withdrew and drove back in.

“Ye feel so good,” he murmured against her ear, teasing her skin there with his tongue.

“So do ye.” Kenna lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around him, her arms around his shoulders, her fingers finding anchor.

It was glorious in his arms. Delicious, uninhibited bliss. They rocked together, with him whispering words of encouragement. He kissed her neck, her breasts. He gripped her hips, her arse. Stroked her legs, and all the while, he took primal command of the very heat of her.

This was not the way of it for most lassies she knew, having heard plenty of maids talk. But she still remembered one lass who’d very loudly declared that if a man knows what he’s doing, if he cares more for her enjoyment than his own, then she would be happy every time. And that was what this felt like. Sorley cared more about her enjoyment. Wanted her to be satisfied. To revel in the sensations that he gave her, stroke for heavenly stroke.

At the root of it, that was love, wasn’t it? To want more for your lover than yourself.

Kenna smiled against his shoulder, kissing his skin and falling deeper into the tumult of desire, pleasure and love. When rapture took her once more, she rode it out with a cry of Sorley’s name on her lips, and she was not ashamed if all the world heard her.

Her husband answered her cry of rapture with one of his own. Sorley collapsed beside her, tugging her close. With her skin still tingling, his breath fanning the top of her head, she traversed the dips and ridges of his chest.

“Now, I understand the torment ye had of us lying together at the camp. Knowing what I know now, I couldna bear to touch ye without being able to experience pleasure.”

Sorley chuckled. “It is no’ like that with everyone, lass.”

“True, it is ye I want. Ye I love.” She pressed a kiss over his heart.

“Aye. I think I’ve loved ye from the moment ye stood rigid on those stairs.”

“And I ye from the moment ye chased me down.” She laughed. “Oh, how ye’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.”

Sorley brushed an errant lock from her face, his eyes earnest as he locked his gaze on her. “And ye have made me the happiest of men.”

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