"Stop talkin' and do 'em," she moaned, turning toward him fully and sliding a thigh over his, hooking her wet foot around his ankle.
He let out a low growl as he claimed her mouth again, He wasn't gentle anymore. There was no holding back. Kirstin encouraged him, wrapping her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to his deep, probing kiss, feeling his hands moving over the soft curves of her body through her plaid. But it wasn't enough for her. Not nearly enough.
Donal let out a strangled groan when Kirstin's hand moved under his plaid. The MacFalon was a true Scot, so there was no barrier between her fingers and the heat of his erection. She wrapped him in her fist, claiming the MacFalon sword as her own in one easy stroke, making the man's arms tighten around her until she thought he might break her spine.
"I can'na hold sway wit' what ye do t'me, lass," he panted in her ear as she pumped him slowly in her hand. "I can'na stop where this is goin'."
"I'll die if ye stop." She nibbled his lower lip. The man's honor was too ingrained. He was far too used to maidens who teased and tempted, who withdrew to protect their precious virginity. "I do'na want ye to e'er stop. Make love to me. Make me yers."
Her eyes met his in the slant of sunshine coming from the window high above and she saw the lust in them, knowing it was reflected in her own. There was no holding back from this for either of them. It was a force out of their control, compelling them forward, drawing their bodies together. She could no more ignore the urge to mate with this man than any woman could deny the force that brought wee bairns into the world from their full-moon bellies.
"Och, lass, please." Donal's voice was hoarse as she rubbed her thumb over the mushroom-head of his cock, feeling sticky wetness. And still, he tried to do the honorable thing. "I can'na..."
"Aye, ye can." Kirstin took his hand and guided it between her legs, to the center of the universe. He cupped her, moist and swollen, just one thin piece of cloth separating him from the Promised Land. "'Tis yers. Now and always. Fer the takin'."
His mouth moved against hers as he moved her body underneath his on the rock. He was careful not to put too much of his weight on her, but Kirstin wanted it. She wanted all of him. They rolled together on the flat rock, Kirstin caught between the earth's unforgiving stone and Donal's hardness. Their plaids were easy garments to remove and made a buffer between their skin and the rock beneath them when Donal spread the material out.
"Come t'me, lass." Donal stretched out in his shirtsleeves, holding his arms out to her.
Kirstin pulled her shirt, its long tail hanging down to mid-thigh, over her head, and Donal groaned when he saw her bared to him. Then she did as he bid her, stretching out beside him on their plaids, letting him touch her everywhere, the sensation so sweet, so beyond words, it was sublime.
Kirstin expected him to mount her, take her, claim her. This was the wulver way, and she rolled to her belly in anticipation, but Donal was not eager to force himself on her, not right away. Instead, he kissed the wings of her shoulder blades, the dimples at the small of her back, his tongue moving down the split of her behind, making her flush with heat. He drove her mad, with his tongue, his hands, his words.
By the time he flipped her over and pushed her knees back, she was so ready for him, she was sopping. And still, he didn't take her. His big, calloused hands moved over the soft velvet of her thighs, parting them so he could get his broad shoulders between them. She moaned when she felt his breath, hot against her throbbing sex, and cried out when he began to feather kisses on her mound.
Nothing had ever felt so good.
His tongue was magic, and he seemed determined to devour her from the inside out, to drink her up completely as if he wanted to drown in her juices. Her hands moved through the mass of his hair, trying to pull him to her, but he wouldn't be budged. The sweet torture went on and on until she thought she couldn't stand it another minute.
That's when he finally-finally-knelt between her trembling thighs, his cock rising up like a sword between his. The man still had his shirt on and she tugged at it, wanting all of him. Donal peeled it off over his head and she gasped at the sight of him, broad chest and ridged abdomen from years of training. His arms were heavily muscled from wrist to shoulder and she grasped his upper arms in both hands as he propped himself over her, gazing into her eyes.
"Are ye ready, lass?"
"Aye," she agreed, too breathless to say much else. "Please, do'na make me wait another moment."
He didn't. He parted her flesh easily, with perfect aim, sinking in swiftly, all the way to the hilt. Kirstin howled, digging her nails into his upper arms, arching beneath him at the sensation of being filled, being taken. She'd never been face-to-face with a man this way, at this moment. Donal claimed her, not just with his body, but with his eyes, pinning her beneath him.
He waited, watching her face, arms tense, thighs bulging against the supple softness of hers, his cock throbbing inside of her, so big it almost hurt. It felt as if he had penetrated her all the way to her womb, piercing her insides and making them spill forth more of her wetness. Kirstin licked her lips and then bit down on her bottom one as he began to move.
"Och, lass, ye feel s'good," he murmured, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment as he withdrew almost all the way and sank back in again. She whimpered, arching up, wanting more. He opened his eyes to look at her, eyes searching. "Are ye'll right?"
"Please, do'na tease me," she pleaded, using every muscle she owned between her legs to clamp down on him. Donal let out a low moan, hissing air between his teeth on his next intake of breath. "I'm n'delicate. I will'na break, I promise ye."
His eyes lit up at her words and he leaned in to claim her mouth once more. Kirstin let him have that, too. She let him take it all. She was his, meant for this man-for this moment. Her body writhed under his as he began to thrust, his tongue and cock making the same, delicious motion, a hot, velvet friction that built up and up. Any experience she'd had before of quick, awkward fumblings in the dark and a fast, rough hump that left her aching and somehow wanting more, were completely taken over by this singular experience.
This man knew exactly what he was doing, every movement, every whispered word, every touch. He knew just where to touch her, and when, and how. Donal drew her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked it, his thrusts coming deeper, harder. When she thought she couldn't take another moment of sensation, of that breathless, aching need, his mouth moved lower to her swaying breasts, capturing a dark-tipped nipple between his lips and sucking that instead.
"Och, Donal!" she cried, looking at him in awe, wondering if there was some pleasure-string connected between her breast and her sex, because it felt as if his mouth was on them both at once.
"That's it, lass," he panted, hips grinding into hers, making little moon-like circles, his steel heat buried so far up inside her she could have sworn she tasted him in the back of her throat. "I want ye. I want ye t'give yourself t'me. All of yerself."
"Oh aye, aye," she gasped, but she didn't understand him, because she was. This was everything she had to give him, her whole body, her mind, her soul, it was all of her, splayed for him. All for him.
"Look a'me, lass," he whispered, his blue eyes gone grey with lust. "Look a'me. I want ye t'give it to me. All of it. I want all of ye."
"Oh Donal," she cried, feeling something blooming low in her belly, opening like a flower, as he moved faster, grinding his pelvis into hers. "Oh what... what... I... ohhhhh!"
"Do'na close yer eyes," he insisted, his voice low, throaty, commanding her. "Look a'me when ye give yerself t'me. Ohhh Kirstin, yer so beautiful, so..."
She shuddered underneath him like an earthquake, her body taking over in a way she'd only ever experienced during her change. And this was something else altogether, something uncontrollable. She'd never been more in or out of her body at the same time, even when she was transforming from human to wolf. Delicious waves of pleasure rocked her body, her sex pulsing around his shaft, sluicing juice all down the length.
Donal watched her, his face lost in an expression of awe and wonder, and then he grabbed her shoulders, driving himself into her with three good, long, hard thrusts, burying his cock into her depths and his face into her neck. His seed spilled, hot as a geyser and just as forceful, deep into her womb.