Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(22)
“Depends on what you mean by ‘claim.’?”
She was almost whispering now, pain and leeriness ringing loud and clear in her voice. Grant knew those emotions well. Between the two of them, surely, they could chase that darkness away.
“What troubles ye?” Grant eased closer, reached out, and barely traced his fingers along her cheek.
“You do.” She rushed forward, framed his face with her hands and covered his mouth with hers.
He became drunk with the taste of her, slowly turning until he’d lowered them both to the ground. Leaning her back against the log, he mouthed and nipped at the trail of her jawline, then kissed and nibbled the silky length of her throat. He raised his head when he reached the high neckline of her shirt. “This isna’ good,” he said, sliding a finger under the crewneck and tugging it aside.
“Hold, please.” Joanna peeled off the shirt, fixed him with a devilish grin, then quickly shucked the strange undergarment imprisoning her luscious bosoms.
In the moonlight, her generous breasts glowed ivory and tempting. Her puckered nipples, hard and begging to be sucked, were a dark dusty rose. Grant mourned that he had but one mouth to taste and enjoy such bounty.
Joanna groaned as he settled between her legs, then cupped her breasts together and sucked each rigid, delicious nipple in turn. He ground his kilt-covered hardness into the hot, damp juncture of her thighs. Pure bliss was just layers away. He ached to sink into Joanna’s heaven.
“I don’t suppose you brought any condoms?” Joanna gasped with a playful nip of his ear. Breathless and groaning, she clutched his head down harder into her breasts, wrapped her legs around him, and squeezed. “You can’t start this and not finish it.”
Condoms? Hell no, I didna bring any condoms. I feared I wouldna be blessed with claimin’ ye proper this very night. Grant sucked Joanna’s nipple harder, slid both hands down her back and into her pants to cup and squeeze the bare cheeks of her ass. Hell’s hounds, I canna say that aloud. The woman will think me a fool.
“Grant?” Joanna writhed and bucked beneath him, making it achingly apparent that neither of them could walk away from this without some sort of relief.
“I have no condoms, but I can make ye feel a great deal better, lass, ne’er ye fear.” Grant rose to his knees and rolled back on his heels between Joanna’s thighs. His hands still cradling her bare ass, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her running pants and skimmed them off her body. “God’s beard,” he breathed. The sight of her lying naked before him with her legs spread on either side of him nearly made him come. If his aching cock had possessed a voice, his hard-on wouldha roared to the heavens.
Her eyes partly closed, Joanna arched her back and presented her bounty even more. “Sixty-nine,” she panted. She licked her lips, lifted herself to her elbows, and fixed him with a devilish look. “That’ll make us both feel better.”
“Sixty of what…then nine more of what?” Grant gently stroked the silky skin of Joanna’s inner thighs, never taking his gaze away from her hot, wet nest. “What the hell are ye talkin’ about, sweetness?”
Joanna smiled, reaching up to hook her hands over his shoulders, and pulled herself up. “Lose the kilt and lie back,” she instructed.
Obediently, Grant stripped his kilt away and rolled to his back, pulling Joanna over on top of him. She straddled him, grinding her mound hard against his cock. The thought of her wetness, the scent of her skin against his, the friction of her against his hardness, nearly spilled him. “Be this the sixty or the nine?” he groaned, grabbing her ass and spreading her cheeks in the hopes that one of Joanna’s grinds would result in successful entry.
Joanna laughed, rolled away, then spun around and straddled his face. “This is the sixty-nine,” she said as she suggestively arched her glistening folds just above his mouth and took his cock in one hand. After a few teasing strokes, she rimmed his engorged head with her tongue, lowered her delectable lady parts to his mouth, then cupped his bollocks in her other hand and proceeded to suck him so hard that Grant dug his heels into the forest floor and concentrated on anything he could think of that would keep him from spilling himself in the next few seconds.
Grant snugged Joanna harder on top of his face, tonguing and sucking her hot, wet opening until she bucked and cried out. She writhed and trembled on his face, her moans creating an excruciatingly wonderful vibration around his cock that she still had in her mouth. He buried two fingers deep inside her, then licked and sucked her swollen nubbin some more, artfully bringing her to several orgasms. As she clenched and rode out another release, Joanna rammed Grant’s cock deep in her mouth and pumped it down her throat, groaning and vibrating around his member until he roared his release.
There was no doubt in Grant’s mind.
The number sixty-nine was now his favorite.
Chapter 7
Holy shit. What the hell happened to turning over a new leaf? What happened to proudly crowning herself the new Ms. Self-Control? Ms. Concentrate on the New Career? She blew out a frustrated hiss of what the hell is wrong with me through clenched teeth. The damn leaf she’d turned over had spontaneously combusted into Ms. Give It to Me Now, better known as I Don’t Give Two Shits—Take Me! Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.
Joanna stared down at her feet as they walked back to the bed-and-breakfast. One step at a time. Left foot. Right foot. She had no idea what to say, so it was best just to watch the reflective toe tips of her running shoes and get back to her room as quickly as possible. Alone. Keep. Mouth. Shut.