Page 29 of Hit Me With Your Best Scot
Coll chuckled, a bit breathless himself. “I know how to use it, too.”
“I don’t doubt that.” She moaned as he dipped his head, taking a nipple in his mouth and flicking across it with his tongue. “Your mouth… is rather skilled… as well.”
Well, no one had ever said that to him before, but then she was probably the first person for whom he hadn’t troubled with pretending to be a giant lummox, probably because she’d seen through his act the moment he’d attempted it on her. Aye, his brothers knew he could hold his own, but he’d never had cause to dissemble in front of them. Even so, in public they called him an ox and a giant, just because they all found it amusing. He did as well. Generally.
Freeing one hand and keeping his mouth teasing at her breasts, he unbuckled his kilt and shrugged it off. His coat and cravat followed, before he put a hand around her backand eased her down flat. “Damn me,” he murmured, lowering himself over her to take her mouth again.
“‘Do not swear at all,’” she breathed, looking up at him. “‘Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I’ll believe thee.’”
Coll frowned. “Ye dunnae need to be Juliet to please me, Persephone. I dunnae want an imaginary phantom. I want ye. Blood and bone and soft, soft skin.”
She shivered a little in his arms, goose bumps raising on her bare skin. “You truly aren’t some silly man looking for his Juliet. I don’t know what to make of you.”
“Likewise, lass. But I reckon I’ll take my time figuring ye out.” He lowered himself along her body to take one of her breasts in his mouth again, meanwhile occupying his hands with tugging her gown down her hips, over her knees, and onto the blanket beside them.
God’s sake, she was glorious. Tall but slender, narrow-hipped but buxom, a lass made for loving. His already engorged cock jumped. Straightening, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on her gown. His boots would have to stay on, because he wasn’t taking the time to remove them. Not when someone could stray by the old wagon at any moment. Not when that might prevent him from having her.
Persephone ran her palms up his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle there. “You are a fit man,” she commented, her gaze lowering further.
“I dunnae sit on my arse and have servants feed me.”
“No, I don’t imagine you do. Kiss me again. I do like your mouth.”
Coll grinned. “If that’s so, there are other things my mouth can do.” Shifting backward on his knees, he took her legs, stroking his hands down her thighs to her knees, and set them on either side of his shoulders. Then he bent down and tasted her.
She was wet for him. This wasn’t all some elaborate act. That thought—and her responding moan—nearly undid him right then. Through sheer willpower, he fought back against the urge and settled himself again. Parting her folds with his fingers, he licked again, then slid his forefinger inside her slowly as he continued his ministrations.
“Good… heavens,” she breathed, her fingers clutching at his shaggy hair.
A flurry of Gaelic came to mind, but he wasn’t going to begin spouting poetry just because he’d been without a woman for a handful of weeks. She’d have good reason to think him simple-minded if he did such a thing. Shifting his kisses to her inner thighs, he worked his way down one leg and up the other until he arrived at his starting spot again.
“Do stop teasing me,” she rasped, tugging on his hair.
Coll moved up over her body, caressing her with his mouth and his hands. Pinching her nipples lightly made her gasp, and when he did it in time with his finger inside her, she bucked, wide-eyed. “There ye go,” he murmured.
“I’m… beginning to think you… a very naughty man,” she managed.
When he reached her mouth again, she was panting, and he claimed her in a hot, openmouthed kiss. A few moments later, he had her writhing beneath him, her quiet mewling sounds driving him mad.
When she wrapped her legs around his hips, he gave in to the lust that had pounded at him almost from the moment he’d first set eyes on her. Slowly, he entered her, hot and tight and slick, until he’d buried himself completely. In the very back corner of his mind that still possessed logical thought, he noted that she wasn’t a virgin, but he hadn’t expected her to be one. This heat between them wouldn’t have been possible if she were some blushing debutante.
Persephone threw back her head, groaning, and he licked her throat. Sliding out of her only so he could enter her again, he moaned. He’d been right about her size; she fit him perfectly, and as he rocked into her again and again, the sounds of ecstasy and arousal she made were for him as well.
Just then, her fingers dug into his shoulders and her back arched, and abruptly she began pulsing around his cock, urging him on, deeper, faster, harder. He felt electrified, every inch of him alive and aware of the eager woman in his arms. And he wanted to prolong the moment, but this time, his body refused to listen.
With a grunt, he came, holding himself hard against her. More Gaelic went through the edge of his thoughts, older words that had gone out of fashion a century or two ago. Coll kept his gaze on her, on her blue eyes looking directly back at him.
Finally spent, he put an arm around her and turned the two of them so they lay face-to-face on the blanket. A strand of honey-blonde hair peeked out from beneath the coiffed ash-blonde mass, and he silently reached out and tucked it back in.
At that, she frowned, sitting up to fiddle with her hair. “Don’t do that.”
“I dunnae care what color yer hair is, Persephone. Ye said nae to ruin it, so I fixed it for ye.”
“Yes, thank you. As I said, it’s… easier to walk about the shops and streets if no one knows precisely what I look like.” Smoothing her expression, she lay back on her side again and brushed a strand of his hair out of his face. “There. We don’t want you looking disheveled, either.”
“Lass, I’ve been disheveled since I arrived in London. Ask anyone.”
“Well, I shall have to make you look like a gentleman,then. For your own good. No lady who wishes to land a title wants her lord to look like anything but a knight in shining armor.”
