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“Then don’t make me wait,” she whispered, her voice rough with need.
He swore softly under his breath, fumbling for his wallet on the coffee table. Jenn shimmied her thong off. The momentary loss of contact made her whimper, but then he was back, tearing open a condom with shaking hands. The look he gave her as he rolled it on was almost feral—heat and restraint and hunger all tangled together.
“Come here…” he murmured, his voice rough velvet, pulling her closer with an ease that made her body surrender before her mind could catch up.
One strong hand slid beneath her thigh, lifting and shifting her. He hooked her legs around his waist, pressing closer, and the first solid brush of him against her made her breath hitch, sharp and helpless.
“Please…” she gasped, her fingers clenching hard into the muscles of his shoulders to anchor herself as she rubbed against his hard length. Hot. Delicious.
He cupped her chin with his free hand, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip, as he positioned himself at her entrance. “Look at me.”
Her eyes flew open just as he thrust deep inside her in one powerful stroke. Jenn cried out, the sound torn from her throat as her back arched, pleasure flaring sharp and immediate, flooding her nerves with dizzying heat. God, he felt incredible.
“Jenn…” Ruairidh’s voice broke, low and guttural, his forehead pressed to hers.
He moved within her—slow at first, deliberate, each stroke dragging fire across every nerve ending, forcing her to feel every inch of him. The rhythm built gradually, harder and deeper, until she could barely breathe around it.
His hand slid into her hair, curling tight as he tugged her head back, exposing her throat for him. His mouth was there instantly—kissing, biting, claiming—his lips and teeth leaving trails of heat that matched the drive of his hips.
The other hand slipped lower, finding her with unerring precision. His fingers circled her clit in the same rhythm as his thrusts, relentless and ruinous, until sparks of pleasure pricked behind her eyelids, her vision shimmering at the edges.
The combined sensation was maddening—every stroke inside her amplified by the pressure of his fingers outside, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until she thought she might break apart.
Heat radiated from his body, his chest slick where it pressed against hers, breath coming hot and ragged against her cheek. The scent of him—citrus, salt, musk, the faintest trace of chocolate—wrapped around her, dragging her deeper into the moment. Every sound he made—a grunt, a groan, the rough whisper of her name—seared into her, as intimate as touch.
Her thighs clamped instinctively around his waist, greedy for more, locking him inside her. The movement drew him deeper, the delicious stretch forcing a cry from her lips. Her nails scraped down his back, leaving faint, stinging trails across damp skin.
He only groaned, driving harder, as if spurred on by the mark of her. The rhythm became unbearable—friction, pressure, his weight pressing her into the sofa until she could feel nothing but him. The denim rasped against her bare thighs, rough against her softness, raw and shocking in contrast to the wet glide of him inside her. The combination made her gasp, head tipping back, her whole body arching up into him, unable to do anything but take every overwhelming, consuming sensation he gave her.
“God, Ruairidh—”
Her voice fractured on a moan as the tension finally snapped inside her.
The climax hit hard and fast, tearing through her with white-hot force. Her body arched off the sofa, clenching around him so sharply it dragged a guttural sound from his throat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—every nerve ending burned, her vision blurred, her pulse crashing in her ears. Waves rolled through her, pulsing, relentless, each contraction gripping him tighter, refusing to let go.
“Jenn… fuck…”
His curse was ragged, desperate, as his rhythm faltered.
He drove into her once more, deep and shuddering, before his control snapped. She felt him pulse deep inside her, his whole body seizing with the force of it. He buried his face in her neck, groaning low and wrecked as he came apart, his hips jerking, his breath catching on every last thrust. The weight of him pressed her down, grounding her as her own climax rippled into aftershocks, leaving her trembling and boneless beneath him.
For a moment neither of them moved, their bodies locked together, breaths harsh and mingling. His chest heaved against hers, his skin damp, his heartbeat hammering as wildly as her own.
Slowly, the intensity ebbed, leaving only warmth, the heavy tangle of limbs, and a quiet, stunned silence.
Ruairidh shifted first, just enough to ease some of his weight without pulling away, his hand stroking down her thigh, her legs still hitched high around his waist. His touch was gentler now, soothing, fingertips tracing lazy circles over overheated skin. He pressed a kiss to her temple, soft and lingering, as if he couldn’t quite let her go.
Jenn exhaled shakily, her lips brushing his shoulder. “Well… that was…” Her voice trailed off, too breathless for wit.
He huffed a low laugh against her hair, still sounding wrecked. “Aye. That was.” His thumb brushed over her jaw, tilting her face so he could look at her properly. His eyes were dark, softened by something that made her chest tighten. “You alright?”
She nodded, still trembling with aftershocks, but managed a grin. “I’m more than alright.”
His laugh rumbled low in his chest, and he kissed her again—slower this time, tender, almost reverent. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the warm hush of the room.
Neither of them moved to break the spell. For now, it was enough just to lie there—bodies tangled, hearts thundering, the world outside reduced to silence.
Chapter 30
