Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

H ugo kissed like no man Abigail had kissed before. The guards back home were all too tentative, too uncertain, but Hugo kissed her without hesitation, grabbing her hips to pull her close and licking into her mouth, her lips falling open with a sigh to grant him entrance. Abigail hungered for every touch, every brush of his lips, her lust stronger than ever before, the tide of it pulling her under.

She was still concerned about Hugo, thinking he needed some rest, but he seemed entirely unwilling to stop, even for a moment. Abigail could hardly deny either of them the pleasure. She, too, was too impatient to wait, rattled by the possibility of losing him, which had become too real, too likely, in only a handful of hours.

Somewhere during the time they had spent together, her dislike towards Hugo had morphed into something warmer, something that fluttered in her stomach as though it had wings and sought flight. For days, she had wished it would flee her body, so that she wouldn’t have to deal with those fledgling feelings, but there was no denying it anymore. There was more than want between them. There was more than mere lust, more than the desire for each other’s bodies and the pleasure they could share.

Pushing up from where he sat, Hugo pressed Abigail against the soft earth, the blades of grass brushing against the back of her neck. He stretched over her and captured her lips in another kiss, one hand tangling in the strands of her hair as the other cupped her breast. With the neckline of her dress so low, the skin-on-skin contact startled her, Hugo’s warm palm sending a jolt of pleasure down her spine as it curled around her.

She had cursed that dress several times in the past few hours, but now she was almost glad she was wearing it, especially when Hugo’s lips followed the path of his fingers, kissing down her neck and then over the steel of her breasts.

“You have no idea what you look like in this,” Hugo said, looking up at her through his lashes as his mouth stayed firmly on her skin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since I helped you close it. But the thought of other men seeing you…”

Hugo’s voice trailed off and his hands found Abigail’s wrists, pinning them over her head. The movement forced her breasts to spill out of her disheveled bodice, her nipples hardening as they were exposed to the chill air and Hugo’s gaze. A groan was torn out of him, low and rumbling as he lowered his head to suck and nip at them, Abigail’s breath catching in her throat.

“This is only for me,” he said, his breath ghosting over her oversensitive skin. “Only for me to see you like this, only for me to touch you like this.”

It was Abigail’s turn to groan, the sound involuntary and echoing around the small clearing. Heat coursed through her, molten and liquid like lava, warming every part of her body. Her core pulsed with need and she wished that Hugo wouldn’t hold back. She wanted everything from him, her body aching with the force of her desire.

Holding both wrists in one hand, Hugo let the other trail down her body, over her neck, her shoulder, the swell of her breast where he pinched her nipple between two fingers. He didn’t stop there this time, though. It was only a brief pause before he continued even lower, down her waist and hips to push the skirt of her dress up until it pooled around her waist, baring her legs and mound.

And then he stopped. For a few moments, he only stared at her, and Abigail couldn’t imagine how indecent of an image she made, hair in disarray and her dress pulled and yanked at until it covered nothing that mattered.

It would have been better had she been wearing nothing at all, she thought.

Heat rushed to her face, her cheeks flooding with it. Still, the hunger in Hugo’s eyes, the way he was looking at her as though she was the only thing in the world that mattered, his attention never once wavering from her, was enough to embolden her. Hugo was looking because he liked what he saw, she reasoned, and there was no point in Abigail hiding from him or being embarrassed about her desire.

She had never felt embarrassed before and she wasn’t going to start now.

With a soft sigh, she stretched, her back arching off the ground to show off her breasts. Then, she planted her feet on the grass and opened her legs, baring herself to Hugo.

The effect was instant. His mouth fell open as the air rushed out of his lungs, eyes heavily lidded as his gaze was drawn to her most intimate place. When his tongue darted out to lick his lips, looking as though he had just been presented with the most lavish feast, Abigail couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction.

“We’re keeping this dress,” Hugo said almost absent-mindedly, sounding as though his thoughts were far away.

“Only if we’re keepin’ the plaid,” Abigail countered. It was only fair, after all. Why should Hugo be the only one to have a look?

Hugo laughed, but the sound soon turned into a moan as he reached for Abigail and pressed his fingers against her opening, the touch gentle, barely more than a quick brush. Still, her entire body locked up, muscles seizing at the unfamiliar touch before she relaxed into it, hips rolling instantly in a bid to have more.

It was so much better than the last time they had been together, when there had been so many layers separating them. Now there was nothing but skin, the heat of it overwhelming, and Abigail soon melted into a puddle on the grass.

Leaning closer, Hugo pressed his lips against her ear as he whispered to her. “You will lie back and relax, and I will show you real pleasure. All those kisses you’ve had before… they are nothing compared to this. I will taste you until you’re wet and shaking for me, coming apart from just my mouth.”

Abigail moaned at the promise, legs falling open wider for Hugo to settle between them. Though he let go of her wrists, she still kept her hands above her head, laying back leisurely as Hugo had told her to. She was certainly not going to refuse the chance to be spoiled like this.

Hugo wasted no time before he shifted lower and lower, hands firm on Abigail’s thighs to keep them spread open for him as he settled between her legs. From her position, Abigail could see nothing but the golden shine of his hair on the top of his head, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure what he was doing, if anything at all.

But then she felt the first brush of his tongue over her folds, soft and tender and yielding, and she could only moan his name, every other thought wiped from her mind. The sensation was strange, unfamiliar, but so good that Abigail chased it, her hips moving on their own accord so that she could have it again and again. Hugo growled against her, his hands stilling her hips much to Abigail’s frustration and disappointment, but that, too, was wiped from her mind when he descended upon her with double the enthusiasm, pressing his mouth against her and licking into her like he, too, couldn’t get enough.

When his tongue breached her, Abigail writhed against him and clenched around him, the pleasure all-encompassing as it speared into her, sometimes hard and rigid and others soft and pliant. One of his hands came to rest on the top of her mound, pulling her skin taught, and that clever tongue began to flick over that sensitive spot instead, tearing a scream out of Abigail. Her hands now flew to his hair to keep him in place, her body demanding its release.

Hugo only moaned and continued to pleasure her, lips sucking at the nub, tongue circling it insistently. He had made good on his promise, it seemed to her, as she could feel how slick she was, her wetness mixed with that of his mouth to make a mess of her thighs and Hugo’s lower face, the sounds of their coupling loud in her ears.

Pleasure built and built inside her, just like before she had found her release the last time, they had been together—only this time it seemed stronger, the need even more urgent. Her fingers tightened around Hugo’s hair, pulling at the strands as his tongue dragged over her folds one last time and brought her to a shaking, screaming orgasm, Hugo’s mouth relentless as he tore every bit of pleasure out of her.

It seemed to last forever, Abigail’s body convulsing with the aftershocks, that insistent tongue still brushing over her as she came back to reality slowly. Hugo only stopped when she chuckled and pushed him away, oversensitive, his mouth leaving her with one last lick.

Abigail lay there, panting as she tried to catch her breath, making no effort to cover herself, but suddenly aware of just how debauched she looked. Hugo sat back on his heels, a pleased smile spreading over his lips as his tongue darted out to lick them again, tasting Abigail on them one last time.

When she pulled him closer for a kiss, he went easily, draping himself over her. Abigail could feel his need against her thigh, where his manhood pressed with every small, barely contained twitch of his hips as they kissed. His self-control was admirable, but it wasn’t what Abigail needed. She wanted to give him the same pleasure, too. She wanted him to finally take her.

Slowly, she snaked her hand between them and curled her fingers around his manhood over his trousers. Hugo twitched in her palm, moaning, but his hand quickly closed around her wrist, stopping her.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“I want tae,” Abigail pointed out. “I want ye tae take me.”

Hugo groaned as though he was already receiving pleasure, the muscles of his chest and shoulders rippling as he shook over Abigail. Her other hand came up to brush over them, trailing over his shoulders, his back, slow and soothing.

“Please,” she said, trying to goad him. “Please, I want it, Hugo. Take me. Make me yers.”

She didn’t need to say anything else. Hugo nodded and kissed her again, letting go of her wrist. Abigail smiled against his lips and began to stroke him once more, her touches light and teasing over the fabric.

Just when she thought he could endure this forever, Hugo reached down with trembling, impatient hands and undid the fastenings of his trousers hurriedly, fingers tripping over each other, before pushing them down his thighs. His manhood sprang free and Abigail sighed contentedly as she took him in her hand once more, this time feeling the silken skin on her palm, the heat of him as he twitched against her.

For a few moments, he moved lazily, thrusting indulgently into her fist. When it became too much, though, he took himself in his hand and pressed the tip of his manhood against Abigail’s entrance, halting for a moment.

Abigail couldn’t draw in a single breath, waiting for what was to come. Hugo still didn’t move, though, and the more he waited, the more she frowned.

“Are you certain?” Hugo asked in the end. “I don’t mind if?—”

“Please,” Abigail said, the word coming out as a whine as she tilted her hips, rubbing her folds over his length. Hugo groaned and finally pushed inside, twin sighs of relief escaping them both as he ever so slowly sank into her, giving her the time she needed to adjust to the foreign feeling of being filled like this, the initial stab of pain she might feel.

Abigail’s desire had been rekindled already, her body craving Hugo’s touch. The slow drag of his length against her walls was intoxicating, the pleasure so strong that she was twitching and shaking around him, moan after moan tumbling past her lips. When Hugo was finally all the way to the hilt inside her, Abigail wrapped her legs around his waist and held him close, the two of them rocking slowly against each other. Hugo kissed her, the two of them sharing the same breath as he gave her these slow, measured thrusts that drove her mad with lust, his manhood reaching deep inside her to a spot that had stars bursting behind her eyelids.

“Do you feel how deep I am?” Hugo asked, one of his hands reaching between them to press gently against Abigail’s stomach, drawing a surprised moan out of her. “Do you see how well you take me? Like you were made just for me. You feel like heaven, Abigail.”

Abigail could, indeed, feel him, not only inside her, but everywhere around her. She was surrounded by his touch, his scent, the warmth of his body as they were plastered together from shoulder to hip, Hugo’s chest brushing against her breasts with every thrust, their lips bumping together.

That hand on her stomach slowly creeped lower, Hugo’s fingers teasing her folds where they were stretched around him and gathering some of her wetness before returning to that sensitive spot again and rubbing gentle circles over it. Abigail had lost all control of her voice, moaning unabashedly as Hugo pleasured her, his fingers following the rhythm of his hips.

“I’ll make you mine,” he whispered in her ear, his hips stuttering for a moment as though the mere thought of it was too much for him, too. “I’ll make you mine and I’ll have you like this every night, my love, sinking myself inside you until you come apart for me again and again. You want that, no? Tell me you want it. Tell me you want to have me inside you, to be filled by me and me only.”

“I dae,” Abigail said, nodding furiously as Hugo’s thrusts quickened, his hand working her with fervor. “I want it, I want it, please Hugo. I want ye .”

“Let me see it then,” Hugo said. “Let me see how much you like it.”

It only took a few more thrusts for Abigail to reach her peak once more, Hugo’s touch and those words, coupled with the slick slap of their bodies sending her over the edge. Once again, her entire body shook uncontrollably, the force of her orgasm even stronger than the last, to the point where the world seemed to go dark and fuzzy at the edges, the only thing in her ears the buzzing of her blood as it rushed through her veins.

She didn’t know how long she spent like that, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her, her walls clenching tightly around Hugo and her body trembling with relief. Her mind only started to clear when Hugo reached his own release, spilling hot over her thighs and her mound as he moaned her name.

For a while, he hovered over her, bracing himself on his forearms as he tried to catch his breath. Perspiration coated his brow and Abigail reached for him, pulling him close, sighing softly when he lay on top of her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

By the time he became too heavy for her to bear and nudged him to the side, Hugo had caught his breath and was smiling as he looked at her, their foreheads pressed together as they lay side by side.

“I love you,” he said, a gentle hand coming up to cup her face. “I never thought I would say it, but I love you so much, Abigail. You are so stubborn and reckless and maddening, truly?—”

“Nae one o’ these things sounds like a compliment,” Abigail pointed out as she pulled back from him, her answering smile quickly fading from her face. She didn’t get too far, though, before Hugo stopped her, pulling her close once more.

“And clever,” he continued as though Abigail had hardly said a thing. “And sweet and beautiful. And I love all of it. Every part of you.”

Heat rose to Abigail’s cheeks. Suddenly, she felt much more exposed than ever before, Hugo’s confession bringing everything around her into stark focus. She averted her gaze, though a small smile made itself known and she didn’t try to fight it.

“I love ye,” she said, her voice much more quiet, almost meek. Though she had always dreamed of love, she had never said those words before to anyone. She had never found love before Hugo.

She was afraid to ask him what any of this meant, though. Would Hugo continue to love her once they were back home? Would they even get the chance to be together now that the Chattans were after them?

What if they had signed their own executions?