Free To Marry A Scottish Laird by Lynsay Sands

even as she arched to allow her nipples contact with his flesh. She also sucked at his tongue when it shot into her mouth, wanting to keep it there. She had no idea if that was the right thing to do and didn’t care, it felt good. But she nearly bit his tongue when one hand left her breast and ran down to slide beneath the waist of her braies until he could cup the center of her.
    While his knee had been nudging her there, ratcheting up her excitement, his hand against her bare skin was shockingly intimate and Jo went still, uncertainty claiming her as the shock allowed clarity briefly in to warn her they were messing with fire. This was how babies were made and she had no desire to die on the birthing bed, some part of her mind reminded her. But then his fingers shifted, one pushing in to run along her embarrassingly damp flesh and Jo gasped, her hips jerking at the caress and her mind losing track of the warning it had tried to sound.
    With him touching her there, Jo didn’t even notice that his other hand had stopped caressing her breast to work at her braies until he broke their kiss and left off caressing her. As he shifted to his knees between her legs, she realized that her braies had been pushed off her hips and were halfway to her knees. Even as she noted that, he caught her legs by the ankles, raised them before him and quickly removed the leather pants.
    When he tossed them aside, Jo stared after them wide eyed and almost reached to drag them back with some vague intention of pulling them back on, but then Cam set her legs down on either side of him again. She turned her attention back to him just in time to see his face duck out of sight between her thighs.
    “Wha—ohhhh!” she cried out as his mouth took over what his fingers had been doing moments ago. His lips, his tongue, even his teeth came into play as he explored a part of her that no man had ever got near before, and Jo was quickly undone. The ability to think seemed to leave her altogether as sensation took over and her whole body rocked under the assault. Some part of her was vaguely aware that her head was thrashing, rolling back and forth in the dirt as she emitted high, loud, senseless sounds and clutched at his head.
    When Cam tapped her hand gently, Jo realized she was pulling at his hair and immediately eased her grip, not wanting to hurt him, but that was the extent of what she was capable of. The man was driving her crazy with what he was doing. But then she felt something pressing into her that was too firm to be his tongue and she glanced down with confusion to see that his head was still buried there and she could still feel his lips and tongue working, but now—Oh, his finger, she thought vaguely, her hips dancing under the tune he was playing as he pushed one finger into her at a maddeningly slow speed.
    Her hips rose and thrust and tried to force him along, but he was determined to control this and simply eased his finger back out before letting it slide part way in again. His tongue and lips worked madly as he did, plucking at her until she began to moan and wail so loud that she became aware of it. Jo bit her lip then, trying to silence herself, but that was impossible. She wanted to scream with the need claiming her, wanted to cry out, beg and demand by turn that he bring an end to this madness, and that he never stop. And then it was as if something snapped inside her, some string she had never known existed, and in snapping it released a wave of pleasure so strong she briefly shimmied and convulsed under it. It was while she was still convulsing that Cam left off what he was doing, rose up between her legs, clasped her thighs and drove himself into her.
    Jo’s pleasured cries turned to a shriek of pain as he encountered and slammed through her maiden’s veil. Her mother had told her it was different for each woman, that some hardly felt more than a pinch, while others felt as if he were tearing through a thick layer of skin. For