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“Breakfast?” I echo. That is not what I was expecting her to say—not what I was hoping she’d say. “Er . . . between eight and nine thirty.”
“Great, thanks for that. Night!”
She stalks away, and my entire body aches with disappointment. But then she stops, turns back, grins wickedly, and strides towards me.
“Oh, I forgot. There was something else . . .” She grabs a hold of my shirt and pulls me down, locking her lips against mine.
The taste of her awakens me, setting my nerves alight. I wrap my arms around her and lift her then turn and press her to my bedroom door. She encircles me with her legs.
Our tongues dance, and she runs her hands through my hair, messing it up. Our kiss is desperate, passionate, urgent. When finally our lips part, we’re both panting.
“What time is breakfast served?” I gasp. “You bloody tease!”
She grins then glances down the corridor. “I want to kiss you again, Ally, but this is maybe a bit . . . public. Shall we go somewhere more private?”
“Well, I do have you against my bedroom door. We could go inside?”
“Take me to your bed, Highlander.”
Keeping her pressed to me, I turn the key and carry her in, kicking the door closed again behind me. We resume our kissing as I take her over to my bed. I’m about to lay her down when she breaks contact with my lips.
“Uh-uh. You go on your back, Ally.”
Chuckling, I oblige, and she climbs on top of me, straddling me.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes, I remember. I was about to see you naked.”
Taking her time, she undoes each button of my shirt then runs her hands over my bare chest, trailing her fingers up and down my body before freeing my arms and tossing the shirt aside. Next, she turns her attention to my belt, but—maybe because I’m a sucker for punishment—I grab her hand, stopping her.
“Wait! Lass, I need you to know we can put the brakes on, if you like. We can take things slow.”
“I want this.”
“Are you sure?”
Just a few days ago, she was to be married. Given what happened at the ruins, I don’t want her thinking she owes me anything. She owes me nothing.
Emily doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she presses her lips back to mine and kisses me with a passion that leaves me certain this is what she wants.
Her hands slide back to my belt, undoing it then tugging down my fly. When she pulls down my trousers, she smiles. “Now, this is where we were.”
Without another word, she takes a hold of my boxer briefs and yanks them down, my cock springing free. I’m already hard, of course—how could I not be?
Emily lets out a soft gasp, which does quite a lot for my ego, then slowly, almost cautiously, she reaches out. I hold my breath, watching. Her fingers brush my balls with a featherlight caress then gently graze my shaft from base to tip. Her touch is so light, yet a thousand bolts of electricity shoot through me.
We meet eyes for a beat, then she wraps her fingers around me. Slowly at first, but building speed with each repetition, she moves her hand up and down my length. As her confidence grows, her grip on me tightens. A groan rips from me, then I squirm when she rubs her thumb over my cock’s sensitive, exposed head.
She stops. “Is it okay?”
“It feels phenomenal. Almost . . . too good.”
She smiles and continues, taking my balls in her other hand, playing with them too. I grin back at her, delighting in the feel of her hands on my most sensitive parts.
“You know, if you fancy it,” she says, “we could also . . . I mean, if you have condoms . . .”
My eyes almost pop out of my head. As much as I’m loving this, I scramble out from under her and yank open the drawer of my bedside table, hunting for one.
Emily, meanwhile, climbs to her feet, all wild hair, skin-tight dress, and gorgeous smooth legs. She pulls her dress over her head and casts it aside, and I do a double take at the sight of her lacy black bra and thong.
