Duchess of Mine (31 page)

He grunted when she made impact, flinging her
arms around his neck, and he stumbled back, holding her tight.
Lurching to the side, he then tried to counter, but eventually fell
back into the pile of straw and blankets.

They laughed when Fleur pulled back enough to
look down at her captor. Somehow in the fall she found her legs and
arms spread around him, holding him down. He was sitting more than
laying, since many of the blankets were behind his back.

“What are you doing out here?”

His face sobered. “Well, my ma seems much
better. And I figured I should stay out here.”

“Without me?”

His fingers loosened their grip around
her.

“Are you worried about what your mother will
think if you sleep in my bed?”

He cocked his head to the side. “I hadn’t
even thought of that, but, aye, now I do worry ‘bout that too.”

She nodded, wanting to be respectful of
Helen, but then she realized what he’d said. “Too? As in you
worried about something else before I mentioned your ma. What else
is there? Why don’t you want to sleep with me?”

“I didn’ ken ye’d want me to.” His voice was
quiet, but rasped.

Some part of her snapped. This was the moment
when she no longer wanted the luxury of her fear. It had made him
feel as if she hadn’t wanted him, and that couldn’t be further from
the truth. She needed him.

Wrapping her arms tight around his neck, she
caressed his cheek against her own. His three-day-old beard was
surprisingly soft, but it did have its blunt ends, roughly tickling
her neck and face.

“I want you to,” she whispered. “I don’t want
to be disrespectful of Helen, but I don’t want to be too far away
from you ever again.”

Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her in
a tight vise. She couldn’t breathe for a moment, but that was like
love, wasn’t it?
For just a few seconds it grasps, no matter how
you wrestle with it, and all you can think of is how crazy, scary,
and so freaking fantastic love is. Then you can breathe again, and
life is better than ever before.

“I worried...after, well, after this
afternoon, when we’d...when I . . .”

She pulled away and smiled at him. “I
attacked you. I’m sorry about that.”

“Are ye?”

Snorting a laugh, she shook her head.
“Actually, no. But I don’t want to pressure you to make love to
me.”

He gave a wide grin. “I didn’ feel
pressured.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I did make you—”

“Ye didn’ make me do anythin’, Fleur. I was
very much a willing participant.”

She felt him harden at the same time he’d
said “very,” which had sounded like verrah, his “r” rolling through
her chest. His reaction, his accent, made her stomach clench, her
breasts felt so heavy. Instantly her body reacted, feeling as if it
were melting with desire.

“Will you...make love to me again?”

He swallowed and looked around the barn. “But
not here. Ye need a lovely place, where—”

“I want it to be here. I don’t think I can
wait much longer.”

His smile turned wicked and his fingers dug
into her hips, grinding his length against her. But then he blinked
and slightly shook his head. “Nay, ye need it to be special. Ye
need—”

“I just need you, Duncan. It’s special no
matter where, because I’m making love with
you
.”

“Ah, my Fleur,” he whispered, then caressed
one of her cheeks with his hand.

Savoring the feel of his roughened, calloused
palm against her visage, she could only think of how much she
wanted him. Her fingertips found his wide powerful chest. Sliding
them down, she pulled his shirt from his kilt. Or tried to. In the
end he had to help, pulling part of his plaid down his shoulder,
then lifting the white linen from his giant form. She almost
squealed in delight when she saw his bare torso. His shoulders were
so broad, so muscled. His deltoids rounded perfectly. When he moved
to hold her hips again, she was fascinated by the fibers gracefully
gliding under his skin...skin flecked with a few almost translucent
golden freckles and so many thin white scars. Most of his healed
injuries seemed small, but a few ran long ragged lines over his
perfectly chiseled body. She scuttled her fingers along a few of
those scars, wondering about the battles he’d fought, suddenly
protective of him and never wanting him to fight again. He was so
big, so male. And for whatever reason, it surprised her his massive
chest was hairless. However, under his belly button was the
beginning of a dark red trail of hair that disappeared under his
kilt. She wanted to kiss every naked inch of him, but she let her
hands explore first.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

“Ach.” He grimaced. “I ken ye mean that as a
compliment—”

“Oh, and I do,” she said as her fingers
drifted down to where his rectus abdominis created hills and
valleys perfect for her hands to travel. “You have a six pack.”

“A what?”

She giggled, feeling his erection press her
hot core a little more as she laughed. That made her groan and sway
her head back, relishing the feeling as she swayed against him.
“It’s—you—you’re perfect.”

He grunted, a sound that seemed to indicate
both understanding of her meaning as well as marveling in the
sensation as she moved on him.

His hands latched around the back of her
neck, then he caught her mouth with his lips, kissing her in a
frenzy. She couldn’t seem to catch up, but simultaneously she
wanted to go faster, wishing Duncan were already naked. Having made
love the way they had, she had yet to experience the full intimacy
of his bare body against hers. Even the thought made her breasts
ache, the apex of her legs flare with even more fire.

Quickly, his hands glided down her waist,
back to her hips, this time pushing and pulling her along his
erection. He groaned as she placed her hands on his shoulders for
better balance. Her tongue shot in his mouth, then one of his hands
was once more at the nape of her neck. Fisting her hair gently, he
tilted her head and thrust his tongue in her mouth. He began to
time his actions, so that every time his tongue met hers, he’d
slide her heat against his hardness.

Her body tightened, already wanting the
release of an orgasm. It felt so good, and all Duncan was doing was
rubbing against her.

Pulling away from the kiss, she whispered,
“Tell me what you want me to do, Duncan.”

He didn’t respond, but kept grinding against
her. Every time he moved, more of her skirts were pushed aside. She
was down to only a few layers now, making it hard to think
straight. But she wanted to do this right, she wanted Duncan to
enjoy it. He’d had to be responsible for so much at such an early
age, and the least she could give him was a rocking sex life. It’s
not like she wouldn’t get anything out of the deal herself. Feeling
his hands on her hips, touching his body so intimately, learning
all those defined muscles by sight and touch...Yeah, it wasn’t like
she was altruistic.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Duncan,” she
softly repeated.

He held her still then, glancing into her
eyes, his own were bright green and bursting orange. Something
passed through his gaze. Some kind of mischief?

She giggled. “I want to make this good for
you. What do you want me to do?”

“Ah, see, ‘tis always good with ye.”

“We’ve only done this once before.”

“As I said, ‘tis always good with ye.”

She laughed a little louder. “But I want...I
want to make you happy. You made me so happy last time. Now it’s
your turn. What are your fantasies? What can I do for you?”

He swallowed.

“Maybe you don’t fantasize about me?” She was
surprised how much it hurt to think, let alone to say it out loud.
God, she wanted him to think about her, dream about her, because
he’d been all she could think of.

“Nay,” he chuckled softly. “I fantasize of
ye.” He paused, swallowing again. “Do ye fantasize of me?”

She glided her hands over his huge body, from
his shoulders down to his strong calloused hands. “Oh, yes. I’ve
wanted to touch you like this for so long.”

“Since we first met?”

She nodded, her hand finding one of his
nipples and lightly pinching the small pebble. He inhaled a sharp
hiss, his eyes flickering shut.

“Does that feel good?”

“Aye.”

“What else do you want me to do?”

“I want ye to sit on my face.”

She stopped, but couldn’t pull her palms away
from his iron-like chest. As he opened his eyes, looking a wee bit
guilty, she asked, “But, well, that’s what I would want. What do
you
want?”

He took a sharp breath again. “That’s what I
dream of. I want to taste ye on my tongue. I want to feel ye come
against me.”

As he spoke, her body convulsed. She wasn’t
too sure, but it felt as if he’d given her a small orgasm just by
telling her what he wanted. Shuddering, she gripped at his
shoulders again for balance.

“Do I offend ye?”

She shook her head, then smiled wide. “No,
not at all. You just—I’m going to fantasize about this when we’re
done.”

He softly chuckled, but the levity stopped
quickly. “Ye—ye don’t ken me perverse?”

“God, no. You do remember that I’m the girl
who insisted we make love at the back of your house against a wall,
right?”

His smile slowly came back, this time
decidedly more roguish. “There are other things we could try.” Yet
he shyly looked away. “But we don’ have to.”

She placed her hands around his face, forcing
him to look at her. “Yes, please. Let’s try it all.”

He moaned and leaned forward to kiss her
sweetly. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I have
to get ye out of ye kirtle.”

“Agreed.”

They both chuckled as they unfastened the
black dress in a hurry. He kissed down her neck as he untied her
petticoats. Her clothes were flung somewhere. She didn’t care, but
loved it when Duncan lifted his legs a little, which gained her the
position of his mouth level with her chest. He clamped down on her
nipple through her corset, and the sucking motion, even through the
fabric, was intoxicating. She moaned and tunneled her fingers
through his hair, easily undoing the tie in the back. This was the
way she liked him best. His vibrant red hair free, waving around
his face a little wild. Looking down at him—oh, how she loved
seeing him like this—her heart warmed.

“Duncan, I want to kiss you, please.”

He lowered his legs immediately, where she
could lunge at his lips, loving the way he reciprocated her
enthusiastic kiss. He slid his hands up her stocking-clad thighs.
Breaking their kiss, she glanced at his big fingers finally finding
their way past her hose to her bare skin. As he moved, her shift
bunched up around her hips.

He bent his legs again, giving more
elevation, then cupped her breasts.

“Oh,” she moaned.

He reached in, squishing her breasts
momentarily, but then both of them popped out of her corset, just
her nipples exposed, contracting hard the instant the air touched
them. Duncan moaned himself, then suckled one of her nipples, while
the other he rolled in a delicate pinch. Gently he nibbled, making
Fleur rock against him. Only, now she was no longer sweetly placed
against his length, but his stomach. Wiggling, she tried to find
his hardness, which made him chuckle, but then he groaned as she
found his cock against the apex of her legs.

He was so erect now that his penis was flush
against his stomach. This fascinated Fleur, making her want to tear
off his kilt and see for herself.

She was nearly going to when Duncan
whispered, “Oh, Jesus.”

His eyes stared down at her. By wiggling so
much, she’d lifted her shift, revealing her sex against his
plaid.

“Oh.”

He glanced back up at her. “I need ye. Need
ye now.”

He gripped her hips and lifted her, while
lowering himself.

“Duncan,” she throatily whispered.

He kissed his way down, through her corset
and shift, but there was no preamble for what he wanted to do. He
boosted her so her knees rested on either side of his head, then
without a teasing gesture, so much as a tormenting kiss, he licked
her right down the middle of her sex.

Her hips bucked forward and up. Fearing she
might hurt him with her out of control body, she tried to raise
herself from his tongue, but he anchored her down by lacing his
arms around her hips. Instantly his hot, wet tongue thrust into her
channel. Her body snapped and rocketed when he filled her—a bit
surprised she had been so ready for him. He darted his tongue in
and out of her, making her feel dizzy, and left her scrambling to
hold herself upright by the wall of the barn.

“Oh, Duncan,” she could hardly say.

Then his wickedly wonderful tongue slid up
and around her clitoris, where he lavished that nub with quick
flicks. She moaned and tried so hard not to buck into his face. One
of his hands climbed her body, finding her breast and cupping it.
Glancing down—her raspberry nipples free from the confines of her
clothing, his fingers caressed one of those berries, Duncan’s head
between her thighs—it was enough for a spasm to rip through her.
Maybe it wasn’t quite an orgasm, but whatever it was felt wonderful
and built the pressure in her body. She pulled her shift farther
away from her lap, seeing Duncan’s intense eyes as he gazed up. He
looked as though he was smiling while he circled her clit
repeatedly, making her close her eyes to savor the feel of where he
touched, licked, and now sucked. Arching her back, she hardly
noticed when he forced her hips to lower all the more over his
face. His tongue darted in her, and this time she didn’t stop
herself from bucking into him. He moaned as if that was what he
wanted all along.