Free Under His Kilt by Melissa Blue Page B

tongue down to her cream and licked it all up. He groaned against her pussy and worked his way back up to her clit. Each time she came, he’d repeat the action and then work the dildo in deeper. The glass borrowed the warmth of her body. He changed the angle of thrusts and her fist balled into the comforter. His fingers brushed against her with every downward stroke, adding another element of friction that would send her over the edge, again.
    He ripped his mouth away and bit into the soft part of her inner thigh. “You’ve drenched my hand and mouth. And I’m not done with you yet.”
    Words were beyond her, but she moaned her approval.
    “But enough. Time for my dick to get some of that. What do you say?”
    “Ian,” seemed to be the only word that mattered and she murmured it. He was gone for only a moment, but really her legs and arms quivered from the intensity of what he’d done, she couldn’t have moved any damn way.
    He ripped off the blindfold and with no ceremony bore down into her. The toy had been nice, but this is what she’d craved. What she’d probably beg for if he made her. And she would. Jocelyn held no shame in that need.
    “I want you to see you come. Watch it in yer eyes.” He groaned when she clenched on his cock.
    He threw her legs over his forearms and dragged her nearer. She was close already and then he began to pump hard and deeper into her, never letting his gaze waver from hers. Her moans deepened in tone and her vision seemed to darken around the edges.
    “Yeah. Just like that,” he said, voice husky. “Come on my dick, just like that.” He reached between them and flicked his thumb over her achingly swollen clit.
    That’s all it took. Her pussy tightened around his thick girth and milked him. He shuddered and thrust deeper, damn near growling when he came with her. His lips peeled back with a guttural snarl and God, she wanted to kiss him. Just run her tongue over the seam of his mouth as he made that noise.
    The grip on her thighs loosened and he pulled out of her, lying down beside her and throwing an arm over her waist. He made a sound between a grunt and a curse. She held herself still so she wouldn’t curl into his warmth. They were both sweaty and smelled of sex. Nothing would have been better than to shut her eyes, find the crook of his neck and pass out in it.
    But that’s not what they were. She glanced down at his arm. A thoughtless or possessive action? They never cuddled. They never talked about her leaving after sex. Had he wanted her to stay all those times she crept out after he went to sleep? But…his arm felt good. Her bed felt warm. She wanted to sleep too. It wasn’t a big deal. If it turned out to be, they’d talk about it, finally. Or make some more ground rules. Ones that included sleeping over and how that was okay and no big damn deal.
    Decided, she flopped on her stomach, pressed her face into a pillow. The movement didn’t dislodge his arm, it warmed her back now. It felt so damn good. She stopped worrying about it and fell asleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Something cold, wet and a little rough bumped his hand and jolted him from sleep. Curved, almost whimsical bed-posts greeted his view. The mahogany wood definitely wasn’t his, or the soft cotton comforter beneath his arse. Light spilled in from the hallway. Groggy, he leaned a bit to look over on the floor to see Lexxie bumping his hand, his shirt in her mouth like a chew toy.
    “I really hope you didn’t eat any of the shirt. It could kill you, you know?”
    Glancing at his other side, Jocelyn continued to slumber. He pulled the cover over her naked form and then slipped out of her bed. Ian sighed. He was a dobber. An absolute dobber, for fucking her, for staying. For breathing in her scent and reveling in the fact that she smelled like him.
    Earlier, he’d taken off the condom in the bathroom, slapped water on his face, passed by his clothes to lie down for another moment to catch his breath.