Her Highland Master (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 1) (3 page)

She made no move away from him as her body trembles decreased and the chill left her slight form. She really was a pleasant armful. He held her as her shivers ceased. Her body was all warm curves, and he felt himself respond at the feel of her lush ass pressed so near his cock; so much so that his dick twitched. The heavy globes of her breasts were smooshed against his arms, and she fit snugly against him. His little damsel in distress was tempting, to say the least.

She shifted from where he had her nuzzled against his chest and peered over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks flushed pink as she studied him, making him wonder what was happening in that brain of hers as she assessed the situation. Her face reminded him of the old Hollywood beauties, with big, mesmerizing hazel eyes that stared at him with an innocent desire filling their depths. She seemed surprised by her response to him, her pupils dilating. His Dom nature, the natural protective instinct roared to the forefront, needing to shield the unschooled miss, even from himself if need be. The little lass needed gentle care and possibly a doctor, not his lust, which she had awakened unknowingly with her trusting stare.

But, Christ, when was the last time he had held a woman who didn't even realize that she was feeling arousal? Declan knew women. He knew how to make them scream and beg for release. He knew how to dominate, and discover exactly what made a certain woman go over the edge of passion. He enjoyed pushing them past their boundaries and many thanked him afterwards, trying to claim a permanent spot as his sub. Yet he wasn't sure he'd ever had a woman—in his social circle or the club, most of whom were skilled enough courtesans—look like she wanted to take a bite out of him, her gaze trained on his mouth.

Her lips looked dewy soft, tempting him. He wondered how sweet she would taste. Never let it be said that he wasn't a gentleman, but her unrestrained heat, combined with innocence, was stirring him in ways he had not experienced for some time. An obliging man, when she licked her plump lips in invitation, he couldn't help but accommodate, sating his sudden urgent need to taste her.

He captured her lips, a gentle pressing, his tongue seeking entry as it traced her delectable mouth. At her startled gasp he plunged inside, opening her lips further with his tongue until their breath mingled. And then he seized possession of her mouth, which tasted of rich, sweet honey. Wanting more, his hands grasped her head as he took the kiss deeper. Taking long, deep gulps, he drank her surprised groans, feeling the pebbled hardness of her nipples pressed against his arms.

At the knock on his door, her body went from the most open and responsive woman of his acquaintance to stiffer than a fine Scots whiskey. He wanted more, wanted to explore the bounty her supple body had to offer. One taste had only whet his appetite, but now was not the time. Her rigid form would reject any advance he made.

"Come in," he called out.

Jared opened the door, carrying a tray. "Here it is. Mrs. Stewart fixed some tea that should go a long way toward warming the lass up."

Declan had an affinity for women, knew when to proceed and when to back off, and this little lass had gone from zero to hands-off in under a heartbeat. He refused to allow her to retreat. She still needed the heat his body could provide, regardless that he could feel the shame and confusion stiffening her body as she attempted to withdraw.

He tightened his embrace, placing his hand on the slight swell of her stomach, and she froze. "Lass, until we can be certain that you are not suffering hypothermia and your body is sufficiently warm, I won't be letting you go, so you may as well make yourself comfortable."

"Just set it on the nightstand," he ordered Jared, who complied with a nod as he assessed the situation and left the room. Declan was certain she'd feel more comfortable with only one stranger present.

"Who are you? And where am I?" she panted, wrapping her arms around herself. He sensed the panic rising in her and wanted to calm her fears. Declan had never tasted one so innocent before, and a distinct desire to protect her emerged inside him.

"You're all right, lass. You are in my home. I'm Declan McDougal. My butler, who you met at the front door, told me you had an accident on Mullardoch road, down the hill."

"And we are naked in your bed because?" she asked, seeming to assess the situation and his home for the first time with wide-eyed wonder.

"Because I thought it was the fastest way to keep hypothermia from setting in. You were out cold and shivering, frozen nigh to the bone. I took care of you when you so obviously couldn't care for yourself. Skin to skin contact was the best way without a doctor present."

She blushed a most becoming shade of pink as she found the gumption to ask her next question. "I see. And kissing me, that was a way of warming me up, as well?"

He cupped her chin and waited until her hazel eyes met his. "When a beautiful lass invites me with desire in her eyes to kiss her, I oblige her."

He wasn't sorry he had kissed her. In fact, he wanted more, but now was not the time. He raised an eyebrow, studying her as the blush deepened. Would she flush this way with his cock buried in her pussy?

"Oh," she said, her eyes darting around, some distress creeping back into her sultry goddess eyes. He'd no more harm her than he'd harm a child. She had nothing to fear from him or his house. Declan just had to convince her of that. He wondered what she would make of his Dungeon Fantasy Club.

"And you, lass? I haven't had the pleasure of your name."

"Right, sorry. I'm Zoey Mills. It's nice to, ah, meet you." She smiled shyly as the little wanton he'd met five minutes ago retreated behind a more reserved façade. He wondered which was the more natural persona. He'd place money that it was the latter.

"Since the introductions are out of the way, let's get you into some dry clothes. Both of us." He could actually move now that his erection had subsided a bit. It wasn't gone entirely, but he'd have to wait to relieve himself until the little miss was out of sight.

Worrying her lower lip, Zoey murmured, "I don't have any clothes with me. I did, but I couldn't get my suitcase out of the rental car."

"Not to worry, I'm sure I can find something appropriate for you. We will get it fixed." He shifted her off his lap, extricating himself from the bed and her beguiling little body.

He heard Zoey's gasp and glanced over his shoulder, her eyes wide as saucers and fixated on his body. He stifled a grin and wondered what was going on in that gorgeous head of hers. It pleased him that she found his appearance to her liking. It would also make her more comfortable, as he intended to seduce his little damsel.

"Thank you." She hiked the blankets up to her chin as her gaze darted around the room, avoiding eye-contact with him. As if avoiding him would erase the fact that he had seen her charms, felt her dips and curves cradled against his flesh. Declan grinned. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this interested in a lass.

It wasn't that he didn't have sex. He did. More than his fair share. He had started the Dungeon Fantasy Club just so he could satiate his lust and more exotic tastes. But he couldn't remember the last time he had truly wanted a woman other than for mere physical release.

He wondered if she had the strength and fortitude to enter his world and thrive.

Chapter Two

"Holy Toledo!" Zoey whispered to herself, sinking back against the headboard as Declan went into what she assumed was a bathroom. She heard him moving around, probably looking for something she could wear. She had kissed a stranger. In her entire existence, she had never once kissed a man she wasn't at least familiar with. What must he think of her? First she appeared on his doorstep, covered in snow, and entered his home without an invitation. Then she passed out in the arms of one man only to wake up in another's. She'd attached her lips to his before her brain had even had a chance to counter her actions.

And, to be honest, she had wanted a whole lot more than just kissing. They'd been naked together. He'd stripped her while she was unable to do so, warmed her with his big, strong body, and she knew it was the only surefire way of staving off the chill in her veins. He had likely saved her life. Was it any wonder that she when she awoke, feeling all the hard contours and rippling male muscles plastered to her backside, his warmth seeping into her bones, she had kissed him without question? He was a complete stranger who had taken care of her, and there was something about his actions that she trusted. Not many people would go to the extreme he had done to care for another.

When Zoey first surfaced from her delirium, she found herself staring into his eyes, so startling an electric blue, with a kindness swimming in their depths, that she'd felt herself melt into him. It had taken two seconds for her to realize he wasn't the beautiful man who had rescued her at the door but another unknown, even more sinfully handsome man than the first, who had gazed at her like she was a tasty morsel he desired. Not that she hadn't been shocked, and without a stitch of clothing on, for she had been. When her eyes fluttered open, she had expected it to be the ginger-haired man, Jared, to be holding her when she surfaced from her delirium.

The blatant arousal that emerged, the stark hunger at feeling Declan's thick erection harden and lengthen beneath her rear with no clothes hindering them, had made her long-denied hormones break out the streamers and kazoos. He was a man's man, powerfully built, his body surrounding her in the lake of a bed. She had done what any red-blooded woman who found herself being cradled by a large, devilishly handsome man with a sinfully wicked mouth surrounded by a dark, close cropped beard, would have done. She had wondered how he would taste, and how his beard would feel against her skin. Her brain still not firing on all cylinders, she had latched her lips onto his, needing to satiate the sudden instant tidal wave of desire.

Zoey felt like she had tumbled into a fantasy with two of the most gorgeous men she'd ever met. She pinched herself, just to be sure she was awake, because if she was dreaming, she'd invite Declan back into bed with her. Her normal 'not until the fifth date' rule would be tossed out the window in a split second. She couldn't wait to tell Lucy and Ophelia that Scotland should actually stand for: stud muffin capital of the world.

The snow storm had rattled her whole system. Her nipples were hard little pebbles, the silky blanket abraded her tender flesh, and her sex throbbed in needy desperation. She shivered with unfulfilled longing, remembering that large bulge. If she were alone, she would be tempted to finish the job that single kiss had begun herself. Then again, the thought of bringing herself to orgasm with Declan watching made her breath catch in her throat.

What was wrong with her? She was acting like a horny teenager. Her body hummed with unrequited yearning. She had more problems than she could think of, and she should be concentrating on those instead of the sexual heat thrumming in her veins. The first was that she was stranded in a foreign country, at a stranger's house, and not at the already paid for, non-refundable bed and breakfast she was supposed to be staying at for the next week. She had cashed in her savings account to help pay for this trip, and had budgeted it to the hilt. Not to mention the second problem on her list: how to get the rental car out of a ditch in a snow storm and reclaim her luggage so she'd have some clean clothing to wear. Right now, she didn't even have a pair of clean panties. Zoey couldn't worry about the sexual frustration swimming in her body.

She was amazed at what Declan had done for her. The fact that he had known how to counteract possible hypothermia, and had taken the necessary steps to care for her, eased some of the humiliation she felt. He'd stripped her naked and she'd been so far gone she hadn't known. She felt warmth in her chest. It had been eons, it seemed, since she'd had anyone take care of her for a change. She was always the one taking care of everyone else.

"I think this will work." Declan strode back into the room.

Sweet Jesus!

He stood in his birthday suit holding a thick, black robe. Wide muscled shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist. She avoided staring at his sex, because what she did see made her tremble and ache to touch him. Her gaze moved lower, to his powerful, thickly muscled legs that reminded her of a soccer athlete's. She felt the need to fan herself as heat rose in her blood from the mere sight of him. Declan glanced her way. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him, he was all rippling, bulging muscles. He smiled slightly at her as he caught her staring, then she realized her mouth had been forming an 'O'. She snapped it shut. Her body burned. She had had that gorgeous man cuddled underneath her body. He made her want to throw her sensibilities in the garbage and pick up right where they had left off. She bit her lip to keep from whimpering.

Get a hold of yourself, Mills. You do not go all gooey for a man, ever. You are likely suffering from the trauma of the day and need to pull yourself together.

He smiled like he knew exactly what was going on in her mind. He stopped next to the bed. "Come, let's get you dressed."

"Thanks, I can take care of it from here."

"Obviously, you can't. I have other business to attend to besides you. So come." He stood with an eyebrow cocked.

He wasn't going to give her any privacy. Why she should care that he saw her naked bits, when he'd already seen all there was to see, was beyond her. She gulped and shoved the covers off her body, scooting to the edge of the big bed. He wasn't going to give an inch, but was apparently going to make her move all the way out of the bed. She stood and held her hand out for the robe.

"Turn," he ordered. She rolled her eyes. He wanted the full view apparently. She shifted, giving him her back, and he helped her into the robe. His hands grazed her breasts as he slid it around her body.

It was a huge man's robe, the material butter-soft microfiber, and it swamped her. On her small five foot two body, it dragged on the floor. The belt went around her waist twice before she fastened it at the front. The sleeves were so long she had to fold them back a few times, just so her hands weren't covered.