Hero of a Highland Wolf
Page 80
Grant shifted and stalked across the floor to reach the bathroom. The shower was running and he heard Colleen crying. He hated to hear her so distressed.
“Lass, it’s me, and you should know by now you can’t get rid of me that—” he said, about to reach for the clear shower door, the steam misting the glass so that all he could see was her delectable outline.
He didn’t finish speaking as Colleen jerked the door aside and threw herself into his arms, dripping wet, smelling of peaches and cream and…whisky. He smiled.
He swept her up and carried her back into the tiled shower and shut the door.
“I thought you never wanted to drink our whisky again,” he joked, trying to lighten the dark mood.
He thought she told him to shut up. He wasn’t certain, as she ravished him with kisses, her hands grasping his wet hair, and her body pressed hotly against his.
He wanted to tease her out of her distress—as she was still crying—happy tears, aye, but still…
He wisely thought better of trying to make light of his dunking in the sea and said, “I am fine, lass. And I love you with every fiber of my being.”
“Oh, Grant,” was all she said as her whisky-flavored lips and tongue stroked his.
He rather liked the taste on her as he hugged her tight and kissed her reverently, passionately, possessively. He stroked her hair in a loving, reassuring way, then said, “Next time you wear that sexy minikilt, nothing is stopping me from having my way with you.”
She smiled. “I will hold you to that.”
Gladdened to the depths of his soul that she was safe, he ran his hands over her slippery skin and felt every soft inch of her. His fingers worked down to her center and stroked between her legs. She panted and moved against his probing fingers. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tiled wall out of the water’s spray as he let the warm drops wash away the sea collected on his skin.
God, how he loved her. She appeared to revel in his touch, lost to it. He wanted more than anything to chase away all that had happened to her in the last hour or so, to warm her, to love her. They were together, mates forever. Nothing would take that away from them.
He brushed his mouth against hers, meaning to be gentle, but she didn’t seem to want gentle. She clung to him, kissed him boldly on the mouth and cheeks, his throat, his chest.
And piercing awareness struck him. She was the owner of the castle, the estates, and of him—his heart, his body, his soul. She owned him outright. He loved the knowledge that the she-wolf had claimed him, just like she had claimed her beta mates.
He threaded his fingers through her wet hair, glorying in every aspect of her, from the way her silky hot body molded to his to her soft curls hiding a wealth of feminine treasures and tickling his leg as she rubbed herself against him.
Her breasts rose and fell against his chest, her nipples taut with need.
Her breath was as ragged as was his. His raging desire to satisfy both their needs pushed him to kiss her deeper. His fingers tangled in her hair and his body caressed hers, wanting more. Her tears had long ago subsided, and she was wrapped up only in the love they shared.
He trembled with the pent-up need to have her as he leaned down to kiss one wet breast, his fingers lowering to stroke her sex.
Colleen thought she would come apart as they kissed and suckled and rubbed against each other. They were meant for each other. The sea could not separate them.
He was stroking her and licking her nipple, making her arch up, wanting him to satisfy the wild desire cascading through her. He glanced up at her. She saw the turbulent look in his eyes, the concern there, and she loved him all the more.
“Keep going,” she whispered, her voice husky.
He grinned at her, though he couldn’t hide the concern still there. But he did continue to rub her into climax, and before she could fall from the exquisite torture of the moment, he centered himself and entered her. He filled her and stretched her to accommodate his rock-hard erection as her inner muscles quivered with climax. She wrapped her legs around him, and he plunged all the way, deep, demanding, and needy.
God, he felt so good. She wanted to keep him like this inside her forever, never letting go. Never scared to death she’d lose him again.
She tightened her legs around him as he held her buttocks in his hands and continued to push into her. Being joined like this with her mate felt so right. So complete.
The friction between them, the way he tongued her mouth and deepened the thrusts, awakened the need to climax again. The sweet ache between her legs burned for it. She felt it coming, felt the giddy sensation of sexual fulfillment, and fell over the edge just as he let loose with a heartfelt growl. He released his seed deep inside her, bathing her womb in heat and love.
He continued to thrust and rock against her as their mouths melded with renewed kisses.
Somehow, they managed to turn off the water, dry themselves, and climb into bed.
“Did you want to eat anything, lass?” Grant asked, wrapping his naked body around hers, not only his arms, but his legs also, as she nestled against his chest and groin. “Anything to drink?”
“You,” is all she murmured against his chest. It had to be around five that morning or later already. Even if she’d wanted anything, which she didn’t, she would not have asked anyone to get it for them. “You’re okay? Not injured? Not bruised?”
“A Highland warrior doesn’t tell his lassie about bruises he might be wearing.”
She smiled against his chest.
“Lass, it’s me, and you should know by now you can’t get rid of me that—” he said, about to reach for the clear shower door, the steam misting the glass so that all he could see was her delectable outline.
He didn’t finish speaking as Colleen jerked the door aside and threw herself into his arms, dripping wet, smelling of peaches and cream and…whisky. He smiled.
He swept her up and carried her back into the tiled shower and shut the door.
“I thought you never wanted to drink our whisky again,” he joked, trying to lighten the dark mood.
He thought she told him to shut up. He wasn’t certain, as she ravished him with kisses, her hands grasping his wet hair, and her body pressed hotly against his.
He wanted to tease her out of her distress—as she was still crying—happy tears, aye, but still…
He wisely thought better of trying to make light of his dunking in the sea and said, “I am fine, lass. And I love you with every fiber of my being.”
“Oh, Grant,” was all she said as her whisky-flavored lips and tongue stroked his.
He rather liked the taste on her as he hugged her tight and kissed her reverently, passionately, possessively. He stroked her hair in a loving, reassuring way, then said, “Next time you wear that sexy minikilt, nothing is stopping me from having my way with you.”
She smiled. “I will hold you to that.”
Gladdened to the depths of his soul that she was safe, he ran his hands over her slippery skin and felt every soft inch of her. His fingers worked down to her center and stroked between her legs. She panted and moved against his probing fingers. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tiled wall out of the water’s spray as he let the warm drops wash away the sea collected on his skin.
God, how he loved her. She appeared to revel in his touch, lost to it. He wanted more than anything to chase away all that had happened to her in the last hour or so, to warm her, to love her. They were together, mates forever. Nothing would take that away from them.
He brushed his mouth against hers, meaning to be gentle, but she didn’t seem to want gentle. She clung to him, kissed him boldly on the mouth and cheeks, his throat, his chest.
And piercing awareness struck him. She was the owner of the castle, the estates, and of him—his heart, his body, his soul. She owned him outright. He loved the knowledge that the she-wolf had claimed him, just like she had claimed her beta mates.
He threaded his fingers through her wet hair, glorying in every aspect of her, from the way her silky hot body molded to his to her soft curls hiding a wealth of feminine treasures and tickling his leg as she rubbed herself against him.
Her breasts rose and fell against his chest, her nipples taut with need.
Her breath was as ragged as was his. His raging desire to satisfy both their needs pushed him to kiss her deeper. His fingers tangled in her hair and his body caressed hers, wanting more. Her tears had long ago subsided, and she was wrapped up only in the love they shared.
He trembled with the pent-up need to have her as he leaned down to kiss one wet breast, his fingers lowering to stroke her sex.
Colleen thought she would come apart as they kissed and suckled and rubbed against each other. They were meant for each other. The sea could not separate them.
He was stroking her and licking her nipple, making her arch up, wanting him to satisfy the wild desire cascading through her. He glanced up at her. She saw the turbulent look in his eyes, the concern there, and she loved him all the more.
“Keep going,” she whispered, her voice husky.
He grinned at her, though he couldn’t hide the concern still there. But he did continue to rub her into climax, and before she could fall from the exquisite torture of the moment, he centered himself and entered her. He filled her and stretched her to accommodate his rock-hard erection as her inner muscles quivered with climax. She wrapped her legs around him, and he plunged all the way, deep, demanding, and needy.
God, he felt so good. She wanted to keep him like this inside her forever, never letting go. Never scared to death she’d lose him again.
She tightened her legs around him as he held her buttocks in his hands and continued to push into her. Being joined like this with her mate felt so right. So complete.
The friction between them, the way he tongued her mouth and deepened the thrusts, awakened the need to climax again. The sweet ache between her legs burned for it. She felt it coming, felt the giddy sensation of sexual fulfillment, and fell over the edge just as he let loose with a heartfelt growl. He released his seed deep inside her, bathing her womb in heat and love.
He continued to thrust and rock against her as their mouths melded with renewed kisses.
Somehow, they managed to turn off the water, dry themselves, and climb into bed.
“Did you want to eat anything, lass?” Grant asked, wrapping his naked body around hers, not only his arms, but his legs also, as she nestled against his chest and groin. “Anything to drink?”
“You,” is all she murmured against his chest. It had to be around five that morning or later already. Even if she’d wanted anything, which she didn’t, she would not have asked anyone to get it for them. “You’re okay? Not injured? Not bruised?”
“A Highland warrior doesn’t tell his lassie about bruises he might be wearing.”
She smiled against his chest.
