Kilted Lover by Nicole North Page B

“Damn. The condoms are in the stateroom.”
    “No, I have one right here.” She pulled the packet from her shorts pocket, opened it and rolled the condom into place.
    While she slipped off her shorts, she studied him. Nothing could be sexier than him sitting with his kilt flipped up to his washboard abs and his rod jutting up, waiting for her.
    She straddled him, and he kissed her, long and thorough, his tongue sweeping across hers. When she lowered herself onto him, he stared deeply into her eyes and for a moment she thought she saw profound emotion lurking there. What could he be feeling? Did he, like her, wish this brief fling would never end? Then he closed his eyes and purred as he slid deeper.
    “You’re so big,” she whispered, the stretching becoming uncomfortable to her sore body.
    “And you’re sweet and wet.” Firmly imbedded in her, he pulled her forward and kissed her, flicking his tongue against her lips. He grasped her hips and lifted her, almost withdrawing. “Ride me hard, Les,” he whispered. “Come on, baby, fuck me.”
    “Scott! You’re so bad.” His erotic words drenched her with moisture. Her muscles relaxed a bit more, and he slid deeper.
    “I’ll blame that on you,” he said amid harsh breaths. “All I can think about when I’m around you is sex. And how I want to slide my cock deep inside you and give you a good hard pounding. Even from the first time I saw you.”
    “Really?” she breathed. “The first time you saw me?”
    “Yeah. I wanted you then and there. You made me hard.”
    His confession sent an ache to her center, and her pulse thumped in her ears. “I wanted you, too.” She raised and lowered herself on him, increasing the speed.
    “Ah, yes,” he said. “Faster.”
    After a few moments, her leg muscles burned and she slowed.
    “Turn around,” he said, urging her up again.
    “Why?”
    “We’re going to do what our neighbors did.”
    She switched around and straddled him from the back. He held his cock at the ready while she lowered herself onto him. His width again stretched her in a different way. She arched her back, eager for his invasion. He slid his hips forward on the sofa, angling her body back against his. Lying on his chest, she pushed her hands up around his neck and into his hair. With his first withdrawal and thrust, wild need drove through her. She arched further. He breathed against her ear, whispering naughty phrases. He fingered her clit, caressing in circles while he slid to her depths. He then lifted her, holding her up while hammering into her fast.
    The pleasure increased a hundredfold, and she almost passed out from the bliss. She gasped and cried out.
    After only a few seconds, her orgasm slammed into her with such force that she lost awareness and drowned in wringing ecstasy. Holding his neck, she clutched him as she shuddered and trembled. He stiffened beneath her, his muscles going iron-hard. Abruptly he grabbed her to him, driving to the hilt and growling as he climaxed. His face against hers, he breathed hard.
    In the aftermath, she laid her head back against his chest and looked up at his gorgeous face. His heart pounded against her ear. They strained for breath, and he rasped an amazed curse.
    Exhausted, she tried to will some strength back into her weak arms and some rationality into her sex-saturated brain. He lifted her off him, turned her sideways and cradled her in his arms.
    She kissed his chin softly, and then his cheek. She wrapped strands of his hair around her finger, realizing she treasured everything about him.
    I’m falling for him.
    “I feel like the worst bastard in the world, but I’ve never had better sex.” Scott kissed her lips briefly.
    “I definitely haven’t had better sex.” And I’ve never felt so close to a man before.
    His confession of guilt squeezed her heart. A surge of fragile emotion brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to tell him, don’t feel bad. My heart doesn’t belong to Fletcher.