Free Rogue of the Highlands: Rogue, Book 1 by Cynthia Breeding Page B

heard her quick intake of breath as he slid his palm between her legs.
    “You aren’t planning to take me here, my lord?”
    “Why not?”
    “We could get caught.” She sounded shocked, but she didn’t pull away from him as he inserted a finger deep inside of her.
    “The possibility lends to the excitement, does it not?” He inserted a second finger and got an appreciative groan from her as she arched into him again. “Society life can be so boring. I thought you were a woman who liked to take risks.”
    “I do, but—”
    “Shhh, then. Let’s not spoil the moment,” he said and loosened his trousers, freeing his cock. “Spread your legs, chéri, and hold on to the trellis.” He ruched up her skirt, exposing white buttocks. He allowed himself a moment to savor the sight. He always liked rear entry. He didn’t have to look into the woman’s face that way.
    He teased her, letting his shaft slip along her outer lips and then inserting just the tip before withdrawing. How he would have loved to grind into her ass instead, but that would have to wait. Leaning over, he drove himself into her like a stallion mounting a mare. He grabbed her hips, holding them still while he plunged deeply, again and again, until she was writhing against him, with her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He felt her climax begin and he reached up to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle any scream and felt her body shudder. With a final thrust and a grunt, he released himself.
    She sank to her knees. “I’ve never had… I mean, that was wonderful.”
    Wesley lifted her and adjusted the top of her gown. “That was just the beginning, ma belle . You’re quite a woman.”
    She smiled, obviously pleased. “And may I say that you’re quite a man?”
    “ Non . It is the woman who makes the man desire her. You drove me to heights I’ve not been before. I must have you again. Soon.”
    Something lit in her eyes. “That can be arranged, my lord,” she said.
    Wesley bit back a triumphant smile. Women were so easy. This one would be putty in his hands.
     
    Ian watched Wesley the next afternoon at lunch. The mon had not put in an appearance before one o’clock, probably due to the fact that he had been out until near dawn again. Ian’s chamber was at the back of the house and his window overlooked the stables. He wasn’t sure why he kept such a watch over Wesley, but he knew he didn’t trust him.
    The mon had disappeared with the Earl of Sherrington’s wife last night, he was sure of it. The woman—Delia, she had told him to call her—seemed to care not a wit for her husband, a mon whom Ian found to be less pretentious and more practical than most of the others he’d met. ’Twas an irony that Delia looked so much like Jillian with the same sunlit chestnut hair and green eyes. Aye, they were even the same height, but no two women could be more different.
    Ian sensed that Jillian’s marriage had not been a happy one, but for the life of him, he couldna see her cheating on her husband, although he was sure many a mon may have tried to get her interest. Looking at her now, in her high-necked morning dress with its pearl buttons and long sleeves, she looked both innocent and irresistible. His fingers itched to slowly undo those buttons, one at a time, his mouth and lips savoring each delicate inch of skin as he exposed it. How he wanted to press his mouth to her soft, full lips where right now her pink tongue was slipping out to lick a morsel of bread crumb.
    She looked up just then and caught him staring at her. Did he imagine a faint blush rising on her cheeks?
    “Did you have a good time last eve?” she asked.
    “I doona like crowds over much,” he answered. “A mon can’t see where danger lies.” Or draw his dagger if he needed it. Jillian had insisted he leave his claymore at home, even though he did not deem that wise.
    “English Society is civilized, Highlander,” Wesley drawled from his end of the table.