“Would you… seal our vows with me tonight?” Noah’s voice cracked: his eyes filled with hope.
Saoirse pretended to frown. “I thought we had already done that?”
“Ye ken my meanin’,” he said softly, with a smile.
She nodded, feeling a prickle of nerves between ripples of excitement. “It is our weddin’ night, after all.”
“It… might hurt.” His brow creased as if he was the one in pain. “If it’s too much for ye to bear, even at all, I’ll cease at once.”
She cupped his face in her hands. “I’m nae afraid. I ken that, whatever may come, ye’ll guide me through it.”
He kissed her, then. Slow and sensual, beginning at the start of their passionate embrace again. She was grateful for that, grateful for his desire not to rush. As she kissed him in return, settling back into their rhythm, the bristling nerves retreated as anticipation swept them away.
Raking her fingernails across his back as he plundered her lips, Saoirse pulled the loose material of his shirt from the waist of his ceremonial kilt. He sat up and raised his arms above his head so she could tug it free, though his eyes never left hers.
He stayed that way for a moment, kneeling between her thighs. With a gulp that bobbed the apple of his throat, he unfastened his kilt and let it fall away. Saoirse grabbed the colors of his clan and let the kilt drop to the floor, as she admired his naked form. She hadn’t forgotten a single detail from the morning she’d seen him, tangled in the sheets, but with him right there on front of her, desiring her, the image was all the more powerful.
She puffed out a quiet breath of air as her gaze drifted to his manhood. In truth, it intimidated her.
I shouldnae think about it too much,she told herself. After all, if she’d stopped to think about the other wondrous things he had done to her, she doubted she would’ve let him.
“Come here,” he whispered, taking hold of her hands to help her sit up.
As she rocked upward, he met her lips with a fierce kiss. In that crush of mouths, any lingering apprehension shattered. Saoirse kissed him back with equal hunger, letting her tongue dance with his.
All of a sudden, he wrapped his arm around her waist and twisted his body, switching their places with such ease that it took her a moment to realize what had happened. Somehow, she now sat in his lap with her legs on either side of his hips.
“It’ll be easier for ye, this way,” he explained with a wry smile. “Ye’ll be the one in control.”
“But… I daenae ken what to do,” she replied.
His hand skimmed up the side of her neck, his thumb brushing her jaw. “Follow my lead and let yer instinct take over.”
Taking himself in hand, he slipped his manhood along the heat of her unfurling petals. As he had suggested, her body seemed to have an inkling of what to do, as her hips rose up of their own accord.
Her breath caught as she felt a great pressure in the same place that his fingers had parted her. Yet, he made no move to push inside her. As he’d promised, he was letting her control the moment.
Forcing herself to exhale, she sank down slowly. A sharp sting brought a hiss to her lips, but as she continued to take him inside her, until there was no more to take, her body began to adjust to the strange and exciting sensation.
“Are ye in pain?” he asked, his tone concerned.
She shook her head. “Nae too much.”
She meant it, for as she sat there for a while, letting herself grow accustomed to the width and pressure of him, the sting faded away to a throb that was part pleasure, part ache. Like their marriage, she had a feeling that the ache part would vanish too, leaving nothing but delight.
Emboldened, she lifted her hips again. A gasp rattled in her throat as he withdrew. She’d never known anything like the bliss that forked up into her belly and ricocheted down her thighs, making her shiver for more.
With that need driving her, she sank down again, drawing him deep inside her. A moan escaped his parted lips, while his hands smoothed over the curves of her hips and found the swell of her backside. He gripped the soft flesh and urged her forward, settling her into a slow, rocking motion. With every forward sway, her swollen nub rubbed against him, striking up a new orchestra of pleasure that made her entire body sing.
Soon enough, the room became a choral chamber of gasps and moans and shallow breaths, Noah and Saoirse’s pleasure working in perfect harmony. The sound of his bliss and the grip of his hands spurred her on, rocking her faster and faster until everything was a blur of ecstasy.
At that moment, Noah brought his fingertips to the tinderbox of her passion. He strummed like a deft harpist, while his lips pushed against hers, bombarding her with pleasure from every angle. It was almost too much, but she knew that was the purpose of her release, to expel some of the delicious, delirious madness of making love. Otherwise, the intensity would’ve shattered her into a million fragments of pure bliss.
“Noah… oh my goodness, Noah!” Her conclusion struck her out of nowhere, the familiar build of it having lost itself among the rise and fall of every other explosion that Noah ignited within her.
He caught her scream of ecstasy with his mouth, kissing her fiercely as she rode to the softer end of her bliss. Yet, it seemed that he had more in mind for her, as he grasped her tight and flipped her onto her back.
“What ye dae to me,” he growled, raking his kisses down her neck as his hips rolled back and forth. “Ye have nay idea.”