Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

The suggestion in his voice, edged with a challenge, sent a surge of desire through her veins that she could not resist. She could not resist him . She grabbed him by his collar and pulled him in for a deep kiss.

It seemed Grant was not expecting such enthusiasm, for she upset his balance, and he had to wrap an arm at her back before she fell to the ground.

Only, Emma was now completely at his mercy, clutching at his arm as he gazed down at her.

“That was unexpected,” he said with a slow grin.

“You said ?—”

He kissed her again, only this time, it was gentle and slow, as though he were savoring her.

Emma slid a hand up to his neck, her fingers coasting along the strong muscles and hot skin there, and he gasped into her mouth, stilling. They broke apart, breathing hard, and a shiver went through Emma as she gazed up at him.

“I shouldnae ask ye this?—”

“Ask,” Emma cut in, as ruthless as any Wells, and raised her eyes to his. “Ask me, Grant.”

His chest rose and fell, and his fingers trailed over her forehead, then down to her cheekbone, then her jaw, before resting on the bare skin of her neck.

“For whatever time we have left, will ye be mine, Emma?” He gently lowered her to the ground and placed his hands on either side of her head. “Will ye let me possess ye as me verra body and soul demand?”

Emma’s breath hitched in her throat. “I should say no.”

Grant leaned in closer. “Is that yer answer?”

She caught his face and pulled him close, shaking her head.

For a moment, Grant stared down at her, and it was clear that he had been bracing himself for a rejection—for her to stop this. Some emotion that she could not name crossed his face, but then they were kissing again.

Only this time, it had a hint of desperation—of trying to hold onto every moment even as it slipped away. Of trying to hold onto each other, even though time was running out. A tear or two rolled down Emma’s cheek and into her hair.

Grant paused, as though sensing it, and she flung her arms around his neck. He smiled into the kiss and trailed one hand down her side, before squeezing her thigh. She gasped and arched her back, and he smoothly slid an arm around her waist.

Her legs fall open instinctively. Then, the entire world spun as Grant sat up and pulled Emma in his lap, her skirts bunched up and her legs wrapped around his waist.

Something hard pressed against her center through her clothes, and for a moment, she wanted him to take everything. But then he adjusted her so that there was some space between them and grinned as she squirmed.

His hands left a hot trail on her sides and her breasts, and his nimble fingers made easy work of her stays. Tossing her head, Emma leaned back, bracing her hands on his knees, and watched his eyes darken as he freed her breasts.

“Christ, Emma, is there nay part of ye that isnae the most beautiful thing a man could ever hope to see?” he murmured.

Before she could answer, he leaned forward to fasten his hot mouth to her breast while he caressed the other, dragging his thumb back and forth over the tip until she was moaning.

Pleasure shot from her breasts to her core, and she almost wriggled away from him—it was too much. But the hand splayed on her bare back kept her in place. The contrast of his hot mouth and touch and the cool breeze from the loch drove her to distraction.

Holding his head, her fingers raking through his dark hair, Emma looked up at the fading sky, a bright star shining overhead.

I never thought it could be like this. That one could feel so free—so good.

It somehow felt like the most wicked and most sacred moment of her life. And when Grant switched to her other breast, he lightly nipped it, causing her to buck against him.

“Ye like this, do ye nae, Emma?” he murmured.

She nodded, biting her lip and pulling on his hair. But he stilled.

“Tell me.”

“I-I adore it,” she babbled, feeling foolish. “I want more.”

“And ye shall have it,” Grant said, before flicking his tongue over her nipple again. “But dinnae hold back yer sounds, lass. I want to hear ye.”

“Grant—please,” she whispered, and then she cried out as he lightly nipped her again. “Oh God, do not stop.”

He kissed up her neck then, sending a shiver through her. She almost bowed over him, but then their eyes met. Grant’s breath became ragged as he watched her, his hand sliding up her thigh, under her skirts.

He paused, as though waiting for her to tell him to stop, but she let out a helpless mewl. Intent, his hand moved higher, and he pushed her skirts aside with his other hand while she got more comfortable. She squeaked when he suddenly spread his legs, forcing her own further apart, and she trembled with anticipation.

“I cannae wait to feel ye, mo cridhe, ” Grant said, his voice even huskier and deeper than usual. “Shall I make ye forget yer own name?”

Emma, with her breasts bared, her skirts rucked up, and a laird’s hand cupping her heat over her underclothes, somehow found it within her to toss her head. “You may try, Sir.”

His eyes lit at the challenge, and a single finger stroked her center through her drawers. “Ye wicked minx. I ken that ye have wondered for too long. Let me answer yer questions.”

With that, Grant flipped her so that her back was against his chest. Her legs were still on the other side of his, and he hiked up her skirts more, but then his hand settled on her knee.

“Undo yer smallclothes, tug them down a bit until ye can feel the breeze from the loch. Leave yer hand there,” he purred in her ear.

Emma thrilled from head to toe and did as he said while he idly played with one of her breasts. When she had managed to loosen her smallclothes, a breeze blew, and she shivered. She made to pull her hand back, but Grant took it.

“Stroke yerself,” he murmured as he guided her. Her hips bucked. “Aye, right there.”

“Grant—Grant,” she gasped through chattering teeth. “I-I shouldn’t.”

What was she playing at?

But Grant continued to guide her with his hand, and she felt herself unraveling. Something was happening—a heat blossoming through her, a release clamoring through her body.

“That’s right,” he said. “I ken ye will touch yerself again, seekin’ out this moment.” Emma twisted and writhed, but he pinned her against him. “And ye will remember me touch in that moment. Me body against yers, learnin’ yer pleasure with me lands, Me Lady.” He pressed a kiss to her neck and then breathed in her ear. “Ye are more than welcome.”

At that moment, Emma shattered and arched her back. Heat and light crashed through her, and she screamed out in sheer bliss. She had been undone by this man.

A sob tore out of her. For a moment, she thought she’d never return to her body—only live in this pleasure. All she could do was chant Grant’s name in her head.

“Shall I make ye forget yer own name?”

When she came back to herself, shivering against him, she realized that he had wrapped his arms around her and was holding her.

“Remember yer name yet?” he murmured into her hair and pressed a kiss there.

Emma was about to give him a sassy retort when she shook her head and burrowed against him. “No. I need more time.”

An unexpected laugh rumbled out of him, warmer than she had expected, and he tightened his arms around her.

“Damn, but I like ye,” he whispered, so soft that she almost didn’t hear it.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she turned to press her face into his chest.

I feel the same, and oh, how I wish I didn’t.