Ravished By The Iron Highlander (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Read online

  “Take me, lass,” he ordered as his thumb began to massage her pearl. Her tight silken heat pushed him to remove his fingers and replace them with him. Clutching at him, she moved, sinuously, like the breaking waves crashing in the shoreline not too far from them.

  Her head was thrown back, giving him access to her neck but he did not kiss her, instead, his eyes were captivated with her face. Her wet, kiss-swollen lips were parted for her soft cries, her eyes were fluttering with every surge of pleasure, her cheeks were warm and red, and nostrils were flaring.

  “Duncan…” she moaned, “please.”

  He knew what she wanted, what she was chasing and he shifted himself so she could get it. Isabella was bouncing on his fingers, her tightness clamping down on him with a wanton grip that made his blood sing and his manhood leak.

  Feeling the lush squeeze of her had him imagining how she would be when they were joined and a rough growl rumbled through his chest.

  He thrust his fingers deep inside, curling them to touch that spot that would make her taste heaven again before he slammed his mouth on hers. She stiffened and cried out, back snapping to a hard arch as her soft tunnel went rigid, milking his fingers as a hot, rush of wetness coated them.

  She did not move as her body lost its rigidness by degrees, but clung to him and he stayed there, stroking her from the inside softly. When he pulled away, he braced her on his knee and waited until she spoke. “Duncan—”

  “Aye?” his voice was rough and foreign to his own ears.

  She wetted her lips, “Not yet, no one can know yet…but I will marry you.”

  Joy cloaked his heart and he kissed her, softly, tenderly as if she was the most precious thing on the face of the earth. “Ye’ve made me a happy man, love.”

  She smiled then leaned forward, “I want you, Duncan…inside me.”

  Her words shot to his groin and the tempered steel of his control took a deep hit. “Are ye sure?” She nodded. “Nay here, lass.”

  Her fingers slid into his hair and she kissed his neck, “Take us home then.”

  * * *

  She was trembling with both want, need, lust, and fear as Duncan secreted her up to his rooms nearly at midnight. Isabella felt like she was in the middle of a dream, a fantasy that had been built in the days past.

  When he opened the door, she did not even notice anything but the massive bed in the middle of the room. Her hand was damp but she clutched at Duncan’s tightly. While doing away with mantle, her mind was running ahead of her, thinking about what was going to happen.

  While she had trained in sword fighting, she had heard men describing in frank, dirty details what they did with women, how they got them to do some very debauched things. She worried about it, if he was going to ask her to do some of those things, while Duncan was busy stroking the almost-dead fire back into a blaze. He then came to her and while she expected him to kiss her and restart the fire that had gone to simmer on the ride back, she was pulled onto his lap on the chair near the fireplace.

  He smoothed her hair away from her face and while she sat, nervous, he did not speak but stared into her eyes for a long time. His hand cupped her cheek and she covered it with hers. Her anxiety had grown to a breaking point, so she could barely whisper, “What is it?”

  “Nothin’,” he said quietly, “I had forgotten that true innocence does exist, but I see it in yer eyes.”

  “Am I that see through?” she tried to jest with a half-hearted laugh.

  His hand slipped to nudge her head up, “Ye will be losing yer virtue.”

  “I know no other that I’d rather be losing with,” she said. “I love you, Duncan and I will marry you.”

  Dipping to her neck, he kissed her throbbing pulse and then bit and licked up her slender column to her jaw, nibbled at her earlobe and then to her lips. The instant his lips made light contact with hers, the simmering lust between them exploded into hot, liquefied flames, the jagged lances coursing through her body.

  She sunk her hands into his thick hair, happy that he had not cut them off. His tongue was merciless, thrusting into her mouth and egging her to reply in kind. Hunger unfurled in the deepest parts of her belly as the lust for him grew. He settled her directly over his manhood while his hands roamed her body.

  So strong, so solid, so manly.

  Pleasure sizzled through her blood as he lit a fire in her with his hands, mouth, and the very heat coming from his body. She felt his hands pluck at her hair, and while pausing in kissing her, he loosened her hair and finger-combed the tresses in dark streamers to her waist.

  She licked her lips to find them tender and swollen but Duncan held her attention. Lit by the fire, his eyes were glittering gems, holding as much heat as the furnace beside them. He slipped his hand around her back and unlaced the ties to her dress, and tugged the bodice and smock down, revealing her heaving bosom.

  Duncan placed his hand on her back and she curved over his hold as he sucked on a pebbled nipple of one of her high, rounded globes while his free hand massaged her other. With soft licks, he pulled away and kissed her again, his tongue driving deeply, penetrating her, while she felt his length stiffen even further underneath her.

  His hands grasped her dress from the back and ripped it down the middle, standing up to let the worthless fabric fall to his feet. With his arms under her back and legs, she was carried over to the bed and laid with careful precision in the middle of the bed.

  Isabella felt pressed to hide her body, but Duncan was having none of that, hooking his hands under her knees and parting her. The first swipe of his rough tongue made her call out with shocked pleasure and her supple spine arched off the mattress. She could only ride the waves of exquisite pleasure rolling over her senses.

  “Duncan,” she keened.

  His devious tongue parted her slit, thrusting deeply inside her throbbing folds. Her hips bucked and her vision blurred as the sensations mounted. She was close, so close to that golden high she had already felt.

  Just as she felt it on the brim of breaking, Duncan was gone. She peeled her eyes away to see him shucking his shirt away and pulling at his trews. She had seen him before but now? Isabella swallowed over a dry throat. His length, a turgid red, was curling up to his belly.

  He crawled over her body and sat between her spread legs. Isabella hooked her knees over his and saw the stark differences in their skin, hers was pale milk against his ochre. Her smoothness was the opposite of his scarred, rougher skin. She tightened her hold and sat up, feeling his length on her belly while she mapped his body, tracing her finger over the tiny, silvery scars she saw.

  A splattering of them was on his left pectoral, “What happened here?”

  “A knife fight, a hunting accident, and bad fall,” he said huskily as her hand slipped to his side and traced the long line around his side.

  “And this?”

  “A near miss from a sword.”

  Isabella lifted to his hand. “And here?”

  “Another near miss from a halberd,” he said, his voice going deep and laced with lust. “I’ve escaped death many times, lass.”

  “And this…” she dared to grasp the length of his hot, pulsing manhood. She could barely wrap her fingers around the girth of his shaft, but noted that the silky skin had a noticeable contrast to a core of iron. A scary smirk had her shivering as he gently pressed her back down.

  “Dinnae put more fuel to me fire, lass,” he said while covering her body with his.

  His arms flexed as he leaned down, nestled his body on hers with his chest on her belly. When he closed his lips around one perfect, pink peak, she sucked in a breath. He teased the taut tip, then sucked harder. With his other hand, he rolled the tip of her other breast between finger and thumb.

  Lust throbbed through her veins as he continued from her breast to slid his hand under her body to tease her.

  “Yer drenched,” Duncan murmured, sliding his finger up her dew-soaked slit.

  “Your fault,” s
he sighed out, shivering under his touch. “It’s all your fault.”

  Her thighs tightened as she felt his long nudge deeper, deeper yet, and then his finger was inside her, and her muscles clenched on the familiar touch. Slowly, he pumped her and she rode his fingers with abandon. Her hand grabbed at his shoulders while he brought her to the edge but pulled away just before she fell over. He did it again….and again…and by the third time she was almost hysterical.

  “Why, Duncan,” she cried. “Why tease me so?”

  “Goddamn it, Isabella, yer small and tight,” he said hoarsely. “I’m big and swelling by the moment. I dinnae want to hurt ye more than I’m going to have to.”

  Her body was shimmering with a soft sheen of sweat when he took his fingers from her. She blinked her eyes open to see him suck them in his mouth. “Not fair,” she said.

  He grinned. “Ye can taste me anytime,” he then sobered, “Are ye sure, love?”

  “I am,” she rubbed her hands over his tense arms. “I know it will hurt, Duncan, I’m not that naïve, but I want to be yours, wholly.”

  His eyes blazed in pride and honor and then he was kissing her while she felt a fat dome nudge at her entrance. Fitting himself against her, he pushed in a steady, stretching intrusion that made her gasp. His stiff, pulsing girth had her writhing in pleasure-pain, and her fingernails sank into his back.

  “Am I hurting ye, love?”

  “No,” she moaned. “I love having ye in me…fill me.”

  His lips pressed and his brows were tight, as he slid deeper, deeper, and deeper still. Then, he stopped and she knew why—she felt it too. He was going to break her maidenhead. Grabbing his head, she stared at him, “Do it.” Then kissed him hard.

  The pain hit her like a mallet and the spilling effect spread through her like aftershocks of an earthquake. Isabella could feel the tears welling but stopped them from falling. Duncan’s arms trapped her and she felt secure as he held her.

  His lips pulled away and his gaze was loaded with caution. “Are ye all right?”

  She nodded and canted her hips. “Please.”

  As his hips moved and his kisses grew so warm, Isabella understood what bliss truly was. With his body on hers—in her—she felt deep heat, soft care, and soul-deep intimacy of her lover inside her. Discomfort became a distant memory with her hips moving to meet his, his hands roaming her body and her lips almost constantly sealed with his.

  Her hand slipped to his lower back as his length tunneled through her, making red sparks of ecstasy dance behind her eyes. “More, I want more.”

  21

  Duncan was a hairsbreadth away from losing himself into an animal. Deep inside Isabella, a possessive beast was clamoring to come out. She was soft, hot, tight and wet around him and every time he hilted himself, he ground against her mound, making her cry out and arch.

  Hot. Tight. Mine.

  She clamped down on him, and the bliss turned his vision black. The beast of need nearly broke free so, in the split moment of sanity, he grabbed her and spun them so she was on top of him. In the brief moments of adjusting, he held her hips still, savoring the perfection of their fit, how deep he was inside her tight, slick heat and how hard and throbbing he was inside her.

  Isabella was a vision over him, her pale legs over his thighs, the slender spans of her stomach, and her lovely breasts. Her hair, a tangled mess, was twisted around her shoulders and fell down to her waist. He flexed his hips, loving that they were still connected. “Ye have the control love.”

  He took her hands and rested them on his chest as she moved her hips, lifting slightly and sinking back.

  “Oh, I like this,” she breathed. “I like this a lot.”

  Soon, she found a nice pace and he loved the view. His hands were on her hips, large enough to curl around her pert bottom, guiding her as she worked her body on his. Her full breasts bounced as she rode him harder and harder, until she was rutting at him, her mouth open and her body tight.

  He gripped her by her hips and bottom lifting her nearly off his length before slamming her down again. He mentally apologized for the bruises he knew were going to be there the next morning. Her tight sheath was a constant vice around him, the pleasure racing up his spine was exquisite but it was not enough.

  Holding her again, he spun them with her on her back. He hauled her legs over his shoulders and then placed her hand on the headboard, “Hold on.”

  She firmed her grip and then he was plowing her, hard deep thrusts that made her breathless. He did not know if he could have enough of her. Her channeling was fluttering around his turgid member. Isabella cried out in abandon, her back snapping up as a hot rush of her completion took him. He felt her passage milking him moments before he yanked himself out and spilled on the sheets, feeling the high of his own climax overtake him.

  He reached out and pried her hands from the board and closed his arms around her, cuddling her to his chest as their heartbeats slowed in unison. Isabella dropped a kiss on his chest.

  “Thank you, Duncan,” she sighed. “I didn’t know I could feel that way.”

  Sliding his hand down her back he kissed her cheek, “‘Tis yer fault.”

  Giggling she rested her head on his chest. “Go to sleep, Duncan, because I want to turn the tables tomorrow.”

  His brow cocked. “Really. How so?”

  “A lady never slips her secrets,” she grinned. “Now go to sleep.”

  * * *

  Duncan woke up with her fingers circled around his steadily filling member. He sucked in a breath when she began to stroke him and he grew hard.

  “ ‘Tis not a toy, lass,” he said sleepily.

  And he got harder when she whispered in his ear, “I know. You drove me to the point of madness last night. Don’t you think it’s fair for me to do the same?”

  Her devious tone was amusing and very arousing. “Do your worst, love.”

  She shifted under the sheets and kissed his chest while she stroked him so sweetly that his blood heated and soon he was stiff as a tree limb in her hands. She shifted more and slid down his body, moving the sheets from them. The fire had gone down but it was enough for him to see her sitting aside and feel her pleasuring him.

  “What are ye plannin’, sweetling?”

  Isabella leaned over and kissed his chest, tonguing his flat nipple as he had done hers. Never had he had a woman do that to him. It was unusual but very…stirring. His hand slid into her hair as her lips and tongue traced a line of fire down his body.

  His belly contracted and she licked and bit over the grooves of muscle, as she slid down his body. He knew where she was heading to but did she have the bravery to take him? With hooded eyes, he watched her as she kissed the wiry hairs below his belly button and then kissed the root of his manhood.

  “Lass,” his voice was guttered. “D’ye ken what yer doing?”

  “I don’t, but I can figure it out,” she said while sliding between his thighs, wrapping her fingers around him. She had a hand on his root and the next on his length. She squeezed his root and slid her hand up to his length, brushing over the leaking head then back down.

  He shoved two pillows under his back and watched her, as she went on her vow to torture him. Then…she put her lips on him. His hips jerked as she sucked on his head and…goddamn! Her lips and tongue worked over the head, then down the veined shaft, then, she took him in, sucking him down in her hot, wet mouth. Fire raced up his spine as he watched her.

  Duncan was unsure of what was more erotic, the sensations of her lips and tongue or the sight of her with him in his mouth. Her flushed cheeks were hollowed out as she bopped on him, taking more and more of him into her hot, wet mouth. His chest trembled. When he butted against the back of her throat and slipped inside, he knew it would soon be over.

  “Lass, stop,” he grunted though he did not want her to.

  Her response was to suck tighter and slide her mouth farther down his shaft, pushing him deeper into her throat. His han
d gripped the sheet harder than the one in her hair and his voice was choked. “Lass—”

  She licked under his head and he saw white. Crying out with a roar, he forced himself to not choke her while he spilled into her mouth. He saw her throat work as she swallowed him before she pulled off and licked her lips. He grabbed her and kissed her hard, tasting himself on her.

  Spinning her under him he demanded, “How did ye ken how to do that?”

  She smiled, “I just felt my way through. I think I need to tell my aunt. She would want to be here.”

  “Ye can write to her later,” Duncan said and dipped to lick down her body, “When I’ve had me fill of ye.”