Free Highlander Unraveled (Highland Bound Book 6) by Eliza Knight Page B

then biting again.
    I was on the edge of a climax, my body singing for release. “I’m so close,” I groaned, rocking my hips in time with his thrusts.
    “I’ve half a mind to leave ye wanting,” he growled. “To let ye hang here, body on fire. Yearning for me to return to finish ye off.”
    “No, no, no,” I begged. “Dinna leave me like that. I’ll go mad.”
    Rory chuckled, and ceased his thrusts. Pressing his hips tight to mine, my buttocks flush to the stone wall. Insides pulsing.
    “Just like this,” he said, hooded eyes meeting mine. “ Allll day.”
    I imagined it then. Me, tied to the bed in desperate need of his hands, mouth and cock. That wouldn’t do. Not without coming first.
    I clenched the muscles of my vagina, gripping his cock inside me. “Two can play the game of torment.”
    “Fuck,” he cursed, his forehead pressed to mine. “I canna. I canna stop…” And then he was pounding into me. Hard. Fast. A wild, primal warrior.
    All of my muscles tightened, anticipating what was to come— me.
    I cried out as pleasure rocked me, jolting me from reality and into a world that only existed between the two of us.
    Rory pressed me to the stone in earnest now, pounding deep inside me, his lips on my neck, hands on my ass, and then, he, too, was orgasming, the heat of his emission searing my insides.
    Utterly limp, he untied me and carried me to the bed, where he tied my legs, spread wide, but left my hands free. I was still trembling.
    “Why did you leave my hands free?” I asked.
    He chuckled and winked. “Och, love. What ye could do with those hands…” Rory winked, then kissed me hard and deep until I was panting and trying to get him to climb into bed with me once more.
    “Soon, love,” he said. “I will not be able to get a lick of work done knowing ye’re tied up here waiting for me. Pleasuring yourself…” His eyes slid to my parted thighs and the pink, wetness of my sex. “And this…” He slid a finger over me, making me jump. “I’ll be lucky to make it a quarter of an hour before I’m back.”

Chapter Eight

    Rory
     
    I made it two quarters of an hour, thirty minutes to be exact, before my cock rose to an excruciating point and images of Moira strapped to the bed refused to leave my mind.
    What the hell was I doing down here anyway, going over ledgers again? It was a task that needed to be done, but who was I really tormenting? My wife, or myself?
    Me thinks it was the latter, for I was burning with desire, need. Potent and harassing. When I checked the grain stores for winter, I saw the ties around the sacks, and all I could think about was the ties around her ankles. How she’d looked suspended from the cord in the ceiling, her legs wrapped around me, passion suffusing her flesh with a pink glow.
    Aye, I needed to get back to her, and this time when I left her, I think I’d have to cry mercy, for I’d get no more work done knowing that she was laying up there waiting for me.
    I let out a groan and slammed the papers down, marching toward the door with a single, sexual purpose in mind. Och, I was going to make love to her until neither of us could stand. Have our noon meal served in our chamber, maybe supper, too.
    But when I opened the door, a guard stood poised to knock. The only person I wanted to see standing in my way was Moira—naked—not the guard who actually inhabited the space.
    “What do ye want?” I growled.
    He cleared his throat and shifted once on his feet. “There’s a messenger in the bailey for ye, my laird.”
    I drew in a long breath of air and let it out in a rush, several thoughts going through my mind. One, I could simply tell the guard to bugger off and that I was busy, the messenger be damned. Two, I could tell him to get the messenger a hot meal until I was ready. Or three, I could just deal with the messenger now, no matter how irritating it would be given my cock was hard as the stone walls.
    If I went with one, it wouldn’t bode