Her long hair is swept up in braids and curls, exposing her full back and slender neck. I step closer, bringing my nose to her hairline, where her scent is rich with her elegant aroma.
“Ye smell so bloody good. My mouth waters wi’ need to taste yer sweetness,” I say, lips gently brushing the outer edge of her ear, “to slide my tongue along the folds of yer wet cunny.” Her breath hitches. “Would ye like that, faerie maiden?”
“Yes, Alasdair, please.”
Before she can beg for more, I take the tender skin of her shoulder in my mouth, sucking hard as my hand comes around to slide between her wet folds and tease her swollen nub. She rests her head back onto my shoulder, those supple lips opening seductively to let her cries escape.
“Ye have the lips of a temptress,” I growl, biting down on her soft lobe while my fingers continue to play. “They make me mad with need.” My explanation is accentuated by my stiff erection pressing into the softness of her bum. Her breath catches again, opening her mouth wider, so I bring my wet fingers up to coat her lips, then dip them in to tease the tip of her tongue. “Wrap yer lips around it, let me watch ye taste yer sweet essence.” And so, she does, with a sensual mastery that shatters my resolve to take this slowly. “Stop!” I command and quickly pull my fingers out of her mouth.
Taking the tasseled crop in hand, I tease her shoulders with light touches. “Are yer arms getting tired?”
“No.”
“Good. I want ye to stay like this fer a bit longer.” Again, my accent has thickened, even to my own ears.
I continue to caress down her side, coming close to the edge of her breast, then further to her waist, where I graze the front of her hip. Her spine arches, her head falls back, and somehow, I am once again stunned by her raw sensuality and ethereal beauty. Blindfolded, hands bound, exposing her trust in me as easily as she does her desire. There it is, the shift within me, like the awakening of something primal, something older than history as we know it. It drives my need to have her, to take her, to ensure she knows that she is mine, that I am hers.
My hand reaches up and firmly grabs onto her jaw, turning her head toward me so I can devour her mouth and she can taste the intensity of my desire. She matches my hunger with her lips and tongue, the sound of her moans vibrating through my soul like a beloved song from our ancient past.
“My God, woman,” I say against her lips. “The need I have fer ye…the love…” I kiss her again. “There are no words fer it.”
“Show me. I want to feel it.” Her mouth pushes against mine. “Ineedto feel it.”
My hand lets go, and I step back, taking a moment to stare at the reason I exist. “Ye are everything to me, Ella.” I move to stand behind her while I untie my cravat and unbutton my vest.
I remove my boots a bit slower and drop them on the floor louder than I normally would. Anticipation is a powerful tool in this moment. I intend to utilize it to its fullest potential. The shifting air that passes her skin as I exaggerate my movements, the sound of me intentionally taking my time—it will all enhance the pinnacle and make the journey there that much sweeter.
Smack!
The leather tassels sting her bum, her blood rushing in to brighten the mark.
Smack!
Again. Her sharp inhale stiffens my cock.
Smack!
Again.
Again.
Again.
I pause to let more blood surge under the surface. Her arse is bright with it, and I cannot stop myself from kneeling down and letting my mouth feel its warmth. A moan escapes as my lips glide along the tender, heated skin before sucking it hard into my mouth. Her cries dictate my next move as I push her firm cheeks apart and slide my tongue through her wetness, wondering if she’s already climaxed.
“Oh God, Alasdair!” She tries to bend forward but can’t. Instead, she lifts herself on her toes, pushing toward the pressure, desperately needing more.
I know if I continue, she will release within seconds. I lick my way back to her tender cheek and kiss the reddened skin just like I do her mouth—open and aggressive, lips and tongue swirling against its warmth. My teeth scrape the surface, but I want more. I want to have her flesh between them—the top of her hip, along her side, up, up, just enough pressure to heighten her need. When I reach her shoulder and neck, I suck hard again as my hand rubs slow circles, preparing her arse for another round of pleasure-pain.
She loves it, possibly more than I do, the euphoria that only this kind of lovemaking can induce. The soft strips of leather caress her brightened skin, barely teasing the surface until I pull back and snap the tips with a perfectly measured flick of the wrist. She bites her lip, and I wonder if it is too much until she pants, “More,” on a heavy exhale.
My spine tingles with another surge of everything that makes me a man, enthralled by everything that makes her a woman. My woman.Smack!She is strong.Smack!And powerful.Smack!Clever and bold.Smack!
I drop the knout to the floor and release a feral growl through gnashed teeth, while I spread her apart and drive my rigid shaft home, thrusting hard as she screams out my name. Her erotic cries push my ferocity as my hips slam against her. My hands clamp tightly, one on her hip, the other on her shoulder, holding her steady through the impact of my fury.
“Ella!” I strain through the taught muscles gripping my core.
“Yes!” The instant response breaks free on a heavy exhale. “Yes!” Her wet channel pulsates around me as her orgasm breaks free. She pushes herself toward me—I can’t hold back; the pleasure is too intense. “Christ!” I try to articulate, but the word becomes a strained hiss through the force of my release. Calling out, my head falls back as the sound of my pleasure echoes around the room, mingling with hers in an age-old harmony that can only be heard when a man and woman come together and reach the peak of carnal passion.
My God! What was that?I wonder as I try to keep some momentum. It still feels so good I don’t want to stop, but my head is light, my body tingling. Her knees start to weaken as her climax ebbs, so I wrap my arm around her waist as the other reaches up to untie her hands from the bedpost. Once they are free, she rests against me while my hips continue rolling toward her, my shaft holding on to the last of her contractions.
Both arms wrap around her now, forming her sated body around mine, wanting as much contact with hers as possible.
“Ye feel so fucking good in my arms, Ella,” I say against her ear. “Ye smell so good…taste so good.” I kiss her temple, then lick the salty perspiration from my lips. “I love ye so much, faerie maiden. So bloody much.”
She turns to face me, her slender hands coming up to caress my face, fingers gently running through my hair. She doesn’t speak right away, just gazes into my eyes, and in hers, I can see the whole world and its elaborate history. I see time travel backward, then forward, then I see it stand still. I see the Holy Creator and all the heathen gods and goddesses of ancient times, then further still to the Fey ancestor with whom her blood is shared.Thank you.Again, a silent prayer.I will cherish your soul through eternity.Again, a silent promise.
My breath catches on a sharp inhale. Her eyes flashed brightly, I know they did, that luminous blue green of a rare gemstone. But why? The reason is of no mind. Because when she speaks, I feel as if I’ve been strangled with emotion. For her voice is not that of Ella but of an angel—its sound so beautiful and rare that it is only sung in the cathedrals of heaven, yet familiar in a way that makes me want to weep.
“Thank you, Alasdair. I have always cherished you, and I always will.”