Highland Jewel (Highland Heroes #1)

Chapter 24

“Sweet Jesu!" Leith moaned. He stood by the bed like a stud in the throes of lust and loosened his belt with one quick movement.

His plaid slid downward. His throbbing manhood sprang free and proud and turgid.

Rose's lungs were full to bursting. God's teeth, he was the very image of masculine perfection.

She exhaled slowly, trying to relax and letting her gaze dwell where it would. But the familiar heat of arousal had seared a ragged course through her impatient form.

"Lass," Leith growled, his jaw clenched, "dunna look at me like that. Na if ye wish to take some time at this."

Her gaze flicked downward like a living flame. "Patience—is sadly overrated," she said, her voice a husky whisper.

"Lass," he breathed, stepping forward, but she lifted a hand and sucked in a long breath.

"Bar the door," she insisted again.

His fists clenched and he turned.

Good Lord, he was as massive as a stallion, lean and hard and rippling with muscle front and back. And there, between his legs, she caught a glimpse of his manly parts as he walked away.

He hurried to lift the timber and settle it in place against the door, then turned, his face a taut expression of anticipation.

"Your boots," she murmured. “Take them off."

God's truth, she was as bold as an Edinburgh whore. Leith lifted his gaze to her face. It was flushed pink. An innocent whore, he corrected silently, and his. The thought inflamed him further and he strode back to the bed then dropped his bare buttocks to the mattress to discard his footgear.

He made an intriguing sight as his muscular thighs bent and lifted, prodding his manhood higher, exposing the flesh below. In a moment his task was finished and he twisted about, his eyes as intoxicating as old whiskey.

She was propped on her knees, a triangle of curly hair between her legs, her stomach flat and firm, her breasts curving like soft hillocks above her ribs. Framing it all in tousled auburn waves was her hair, glorious, soft and enticing.

Leith settled his fingers in the thick of it, then pushed his hands beneath. Her skin felt like satin, her hair like velvet, and as he leaned close, her breasts caressed his chest, sending trembles through them both.

His lips caught hers. His manhood prodded her belly in an impatient demand. Her mouth opened as she panted for breath and his kisses slanted downward, over her jaw to her neck.

She shuddered against the delicious feelings, clutching him to her, but the blazing trail of kisses did not stop. Lower it went. Over her shoulder, down her arm. She shivered again.

He pulled her hand from him and, straightening her arm, nibbled his way to the crease in her elbow.

"Leith!" She rasped his name, trying to jerk free.

"Strange," he murmured, his breath a caress against her goose-bumped flesh. "Ye have the most sensitive arms. Look." He leaned closer, lightly touching his tongue to her inner elbow and she jumped again. Leith raised his gaze to her face, his brows high. "Is it na a marvel? Does it na make ye wonder what ye would do if I touched other parts so?"

"Leith!"

"Yer nipple, mayhap?" He drew close with breathless slowness and touched his tongue to her right nipple.

Her entire body jerked spasmodically.

“Intriguing," he observed huskily. "And what of yer other?" He touched that rosebud pebble next. She released a high-pitched gasp, quivering like a willow leaf in the wind.

He clamped his jaw shut as he channeled all his control into patience. Patience to explore this marvelous vessel that trembled with anticipation.

"And what of lower?" he asked, pressing her gently backward with an open palm.

Her legs unfolded slowly, revealing the core of her being to him, but he ignored that sweet source of pleasure as best he could, concentrating instead on mysteries higher up.

His tongue skimmed along the downward slope of one lovely breast. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but her lips were parted.

"Leith!" she cried again, but he shushed her like a patient schoolmaster just discovering a strange new phenomenon.

"Ah, love," he breathed, his gaze falling on the soft indentation of her navel. "What have we here?"

"Don't!" she pleaded, but his tongue had already dipped to that valley.

Every muscle in her body jumped, her hips actually leaving the bed as her fingers found his hair.

"Leith!" she panted. "I mean it! I'm trying to... to act demure."

He chuckled as his tongue dipped again. "And yer doing a hell of a job at it, lass."

"Leith." She wet her lips as her fingers tightened in his hair. "I fear you're a very bad influence on me."

"Indeed?" He slid upward, dragging his kisses along the midline of her body.

Heat spread from every point of contact, his lips, his nipples, his manhood as it was drawn slowly along her thigh.

"Indeed," she rasped in breathless agony, but he smiled into her eyes finally, his engorged shaft pressed firmly to the flaming mass of curls between her legs. "It used to be that I hardly ever ravaged anyone."

"Hardly ever?" he asked, raising one brow.

"Well—never," she admitted, letting her eyes fall closed as his fingertips caressed her neck into shivers. "And now I cannot wait to ravage you again."

"But ye have to, lass," he crooned. "For just now I am ravaging ye."

"I cannot wait."

"Ye must." His lips caught hers for a momentary kiss. "For ye have kept me waiting in the past. Tormenting me." He kissed her again, moving his hips. "Torturing me."

"Please, Leith."

"Please what, lass?"

"Please," she panted, pressing her head back as he kissed her neck. "Please take..."

He sucked on her earlobe, sending frenzied excitement to her breasts and loins.

"Please take... ?" he mused with a devious scowl. "Please take... my time?" he guessed, sliding a hand down her side to cup her buttock and tilt her hips upward. "Please take... a moment... to talk?"

Her face was a picture of rapt concentration, with her sweet lower lip sucked between her teeth, her eyes squeezed shut as she writhed her hips against him.

"That's na it," he guessed, and slid his fingers so that the tips just bumped the moist, swollen flesh of her womanhood. "Lass," he admonished gently, "ye must tell me what ye want."

She planned to do just that but his finger slipped inside and she gasped.

"What is it ye want?" he asked, moving his finger slowly.

“Take me," she moaned, arching nearer.

"Ye are indeed demure, lass." Leith chuckled, fully appreciating her husky demands, and stepped from the bed to lift her into his arms.

His manhood throbbed against her buttocks, belying his casual attitude. His lips caught hers in a kiss so hungry it seemed to sear on contact. In another moment they were parted as he settled her into the warmth of her waiting bath.

Her hair floated on the water's surface, her breasts peeked above the waves, and though he wished to stand back and gaze at her beauty he found there was no hope, for he ached for her with a need so deep it shook his soul.

He joined her there. The water rose as he settled himself between her bent knees.

"Remember our last encounter at this tub?" he asked, moving forward to press his broad manhood to her belly. "Remember how ye fled at the last moment?" He nuzzled her breast, flicking his tongue over its puckered peak.

She drew in a ragged breath.

"I have ached for ye ever since, lass." He suckled her gently. Her fingers caught his hair again, her hips strained upward, as she felt the rounded tip of what she desired slip between her thighs.

" 'Twas only last night," she said reasonably, but knew her own impatience was hardly logical.

"Nay," he breathed, " 'twas a lifetime since I last loved ye."

"Aye," she sighed. "A lifetime."

"Then let us end the wait," Leith said, and in one movement buried himself to the hilt.

They closed their eyes in unison, and then the rhythm began, slowly at first and finally quicker.

Water splashed over the vat’s wooden sides, but the lovers failed to notice, for they were drowning in sweetest euphoria.

The tempo increased. Their breath rasped together in harsh tones.

"Leith," she cried, teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"Sweet..." He emptied himself in shuddering spurts and she pushed hard against his rod, peaking in flaming splendor. "Jesu!" he cried, dropping his head to her shoulder and hearing the frantic beat of her heart against his ear.

"Please," she whispered, her breath rapid against his hair.

Leith drew his head away with weary heaviness, bracing himself with one bulging arm against the tub's bottom.

"Nay, lass," he said in disbelief, the words coming between harsh intakes of air. "Dunna tell me ye want it again."

Rose grinned devilishly. "Nay, my laird," she crooned, glancing up through thick lashes. "I but wish for you to ease off me before I drown."

"Thank Jesu," he panted in mock relief, doing as she requested.

"I will give you several minutes," she said, putting her hand on his smooth, naked chest, "before I plead again."

"Ah, sweet babe." He sighed, kissing her gently. "Ye were made to be loved."

"Do you think so?" she asked softly, and in her eyes Leith saw the earnestness of her question.

So she was still at battle with her own purpose in life.

"Aye," he said firmly. "Our God wouldna have created ye with such fire had He na wanted ye to set something aflame." Drawing a wet line down her upper arm, he grinned mischievously. "And ye, wee lass, could ignite this verra water... if I were the kindling."

Rose raised her brows at him, feeling acutely responsive to his teasing. "And how is it that you know, my laird, that you alone could be the kindling? After all, I've spent all my adult life in an abbey, with no chance to test your theory. Mayhap any man could—"

Her words were interrupted as Leith gripped her arms in a firm clasp. His face was only inches from hers as he pressed closer to her slick body. "Because ye are what ye are, lass," he said, his voice low.

She stared at him, her breath stopped in her throat. "And what am I?" she whispered raggedly.

"Mine."