Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Iona sucks at her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed and mischief in her eyes.
“I didn’t before, did I?”
“And if I were to chance another?”
Her cheeks grow redder, and I watch her breath catch with a small gasp.
“Perhaps you should find out, my lord,” she whispers heatedly.
She gasps as I move quickly, tugging her bed sheet away and pulling her into my arms. Gods, she smells like honey and flowers, and I want to drink down every drop of her scent.
I move close, and without another second wasted, my lips find hers. Iona moans as I kiss her slow and deep—savoring it, drawing it out, letting the fire burn hotter and hotter until it consumes us both. And when I finally pull away, both of us breathing heavily and both of our pulses roaring, I know.
…I know she’s mine.
“Tell me what else no one’s done, my little bride,” I growl.
“How can I say what I haven’t known, if I don’t know it?”
I move close again, my lips brushing hers.
“Perhaps someone should show you.”
“Perhaps they should,” she moans.
“Come here, sweetness,” I growl. “And let me show you everything.”
Chapter 9
Iona
I crush my lips to his, moaning as he kisses me hard and rough, grabbing me as I melt into him. I’m panting as his tongue finds mine, my head spinning as I open my mouth willingly to him, letting him kiss me exactly how he wants, and loving every second of it. Lachlan pulls back, his eyes fierce as he yanks his tunic off, and I whimper as my eyes drop to his chest.
God is he beautiful.
Lachlan is forty, and yet he’s got the build of a man half his age. He’s brawny and chiseled—muscles hardened and steeled by war and battle. There are lords—even ones who fought in the Crusades like Lachlan—who came home and let themselves go, because it was easy, and because it was comfortable.
Not him.
Ever since I’ve known him, Lachlan has kept himself in perfect shape. Even nowadays, he can be found down with the kitchen staff in the mornings sometimes, chopping wood for the ovens. And my God does it show. I reach out for him, but I hesitate at the last second—that final leap between fantasy and reality almost too large a divide to take, even when we’ve already gone this far.
“Touch me, lass,” he growls, his eyes wild. “Go ahead.”
I swallow as I let my hands drift the last inch to his skin, and when I touch his body, I moan quietly as my fantasies become real. His muscles ripple beneath warm skin, and my hands move over him as my fingers explore. There are scars here and there—from battles and hardships long ago, but even still, it somehow makes him even more beautiful.
It’s a man’s body, not a boy’s. Hair, bulging muscles, scars, and power, and the longer I touch him, the more I never want to stop touching him.
Lachlan’s hands drift to me, sliding over my waist, meeting in the middle, and then drifting higher. I’m wearing a white dressing gown, my nipples hard and aching against the thin material, and as he drifts higher, his hands skimming up to the tie that keeps it closed, my breath catches. His big fingers tug the string, and with a whimper, I feel my dressing gown falling open. Lachlan growls hungrily, tugging it wider and brushing it off my shoulders. His knuckles brush my nipples, making me moan again, and then they linger there, teasing my breasts as I breathe heavier and heavier.
“So, you mean to tell me, lass,” he growls, moving towards me. “That no one’s touched you here?”
His finger traces over the soft skin of my neck, and I whimper softly as I shake my head.
“No, my lord.”
My pulse races as he moves in, and when his lips tease over the same spot, and then his teeth, I gasp sharply.
“And no one, not one single boy, has laid his hands on these perfect breasts?”
“No, sire,” I moan.
His mouth moves lower, kissing and sucking his way down the soft slope of my breast, and I gasp louder. His mouth finds one of my nipples, sucking it between his lips and swirling his tongue across it, and I gasp, loudly.
“Oh God!” I cry out, arching my back and melting into him as I drop my head back. Lachlan growls, sucking my nipples and groaning as his hands tease over my skin. One pushes lower, down over my tummy, making it cave under his touch as my breath catches. His fingers walk lower and lower, pushing the rest of my nightgown away and moving lower still. My body trembles as he finds the soft downy patch of blonde hair, and when he slides through it down to what he’s after, my heart jumps into my throat.
One big finger slips over my slick, wet, pussy, parting my lips so easily and easing down between them. I moan wildly as his finger bumps over my clit, sending flashes of heat through me as he pushes the tip of his finger lower, against my opening. I moan as he eases it inside, pushing gently but firmly and curling it inside of me. My eyes fly open, and pleasure I’ve never known explodes through me as I cling to him, yanking his head up and kissing him fiercely.