Highlander’s Evil Side by Shona Thompson
Chapter Twenty-Two
Beitris
Beitris kissed him as if she was drinking him in. She couldn’t get enough of him. Her body heated with each and every stroke of his tongue against hers. His hands pressed into her back, and her body pushed against him, wanting and needing more. She stroked his face, memorizing the contours and fine lines she felt underneath her palms. Beitris wanted to engrave him into her. She wanted to know him more than she ever wanted for any other.
“Beitris,” Fraser whispered between kisses. “We should—”
Beitris silenced his words with her lips. She wanted him. She didn’t think she had ever wanted any man before, and the thought of it excited and terrified her. His body pushed against hers, his feet stumbling forward. Their lips were locked together, kissing and nibbling, stroking and sucking. She didn’t know if her body would suddenly ignite into fire. She certainly felt as if it would. Her whole world seemed to revolve around him within this moment. Her senses heightened with each sound of his gasps, his moans, the feel of his hands on her hips.
She felt the bed pressed against the backs of her legs, and with one movement, she fell backward, her back hitting the mattress while dragging Fraser with her. He moaned, his lips slipping away from hers and kissing a path from her lips to her neck. She shuddered as she felt his teeth graze against the sensitive part of her nape, her legs opening underneath him. His body pressed against her core, and her hands clutched his shoulders, holding him to her. She felt as if he was slowly torturing her, and she never wanted it to stop.
His hands pulled at her skirts while he continued mouthing at her neck. She wiggled against him, feeling something hard and hot pushing against his wool tights. He moaned, his mouth stilling and his entire body shuddering. She moved again, and he gasped, his face burying into her shoulder. His hips met her movements while his hands grew more frenzied.
Beitris’s face flushed. She did not know what to do, for she had never lain with a man before. She had heard things before, from the servants' whispers, about what made a man happy in bed. Of course, Beitris did not know if she could put much merit in what was said between gossiping maids.
She kissed his neck while her hand brushed against him again, a loud moan escaping him. “Is that good, Fraser?” she whispered into his ear.
His head lulled up and down. “Very good, Beitris,” he said against her throat.
She stilled as his hands grazed her thigh, biting back the sounds demanding to escape her lips. His fingers stroked higher, taunting her and sending her to past memories of how, three days ago, those same fingers stroked her womanhood. She wanted to feel them again. Her entire body was nearly begging for it, but she didn’t know how to ask, to tell him what she wanted. His fingers slipped higher, stroking her inner thigh. Her body wiggled, a whimper escaping her as she struggled to meet his fingers.
Fraser chuckled, pushing away from her neck. His lips hovered above hers, his forehead nuzzling against her. “Is there something ye want, Beitris?” he whispered, his voice sounding breathy and laced with pleasure.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t look away. Her mouth fell open as his fingers found her core. One finger circled around her slowly. She felt everything heat in that one area. Her body tensed, her hands clutching and fisting his leine. Her mouth fell open wider as that finger slipped inside her, pushing and pressing while another stroked and circled.
A moan escaped her. Her face heated in both embarrassment and pleasure. She didn’t know what Fraser was doing to her, but she knew she never wanted him to stop. Her entire body was focused on what his fingers were doing. She tugged at his leine, wanting to feel more of him, wanting to be rid of these garments suffocating her.
Fraser’s hand slipped from her, and she whimpered, her body wiggling under him while she reached for him. “Fraser,” she whimpered, her tone more like a complaint. She grabbed his hand, wanting him to resume his torment.
Her complaints were stifled as he pulled his leine from his shoulders, tossing it in a heap behind him. She stilled, her eyes running up and down the length of him, memorizing every line and freckle. His body was chiseled as if he had spent all those days in France and Edinburgh practicing the sword. She reached for him, her palms pressing against his chest, sliding down his muscled torso to the bulge in his tights.
Fraser grabbed her hands, pulling her to him. He grabbed her dress, stripping her of it and tossing it with his leine on the floor. Her body shivered under his gaze, sitting on the bed before him in only her underdress. His hands stroked her shoulders, pushing the straps down with his movements. She leaned into his touch, her face heating under his stare. The back of his knuckles brushed against the fabric covering her breasts, and she shivered, her insides heating and pooling in the area he just touched.
Beitris grabbed her underdress and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the side. She met his gaze, watching his nostrils flare and his gaze grow heady as he stared at her naked body. She moved to kneel in front of him. His breath hitched, and she smiled, enjoying the way Fraser looked at her.
“Do ye like what ye see, my laird?” she teased while leaning towards him.
“Yer beautiful,” Fraser breathed.
His hand cupped her breast, massaging it lightly while he kissed her softly. Beitris relished in the kiss, his touch. His finger stroked her nipple, pinching it slightly before returning to a gentle massage. Fire sparked inside her, wanting more of the sensation. She grabbed his other hand and pressed it to her forgotten breast. She moaned as he pinched her again. Her hands moved between them, cupping the bulge in his tights. His mouth wrenched away from her, and his head tilted back as another moan surfaced.
“Beitris,” Fraser gasped.
His hands seized hers, pushing them away while he grabbed his tights, pushing them down and kicking them off onto the floor. He crawled towards her, his gaze predatory, making her shiver with want. Beitris moved herself backward, making more room for Fraser on the bed. His member slid against her leg, heating her skin. Her hands reached for him, and he grasped them, bringing them to his lips. He kissed her knuckles, her palms, her fingers.
Releasing them, her hand found his shaft, and she stroked him with one finger, up and down, enjoying the moans emitting from him. His body moved to cover hers, his lips pressing against hers and drinking her in. She allowed herself to drown in his embrace, enjoying the feeling of his tongue stroking hers. His hands palmed her breasts, moving slowly down to her core. He cupped her, and she wrenched her lips from his, gasping as his fingers entered her once more. She met his thrusts; her body took on a rhythm all its own.
“Fraser,” she moaned, her head lulling back and forth on the bed.
She felt as if she was soaring higher and higher, as if she was flying past the clouds haunting the highland sky. Her hands moved to his hips, her legs wrapping around him. She didn’t think she could take any more of his torture.
“Beitris,” Fraser said, pressing his hands against the mattress and pushing himself up. His blue eyes were glazed, his lips red and swollen. He appeared drunk with his face flushed. Drunk on me, she realized, the thought making her core heat and her legs wrap around him. He stared at her, a question in his eyes. Beitris had an answer, but she did not know if she could voice it. It was too embarrassing, but she knew she needed to.
With a slight nod of her head, Fraser edge closer. She could feel him at her entrance. His gaze remained on her. His mouth slackened while he slowly eased himself inside, his arms trembling as his body pressed into hers.
At first, Beitris bit her bottom lip, feeling pain take hold and push away any pleasure from before. Her nails dug into his shoulders. Her gaze remained fastened on his, prickling with tears. He stilled within her, his hands stroking her hair away from her face while he kissed her forehead, nose, and cheeks.
“Are ye alright, Beitris?” he whispered. “Tell me if ye want to stop. I want to make ye feel good.”
Beitris swallowed. Her teeth clenched against the pain. There was something else there. She moved against him, earning a harsh hiss from Fraser. His forehead pressed against hers while he shuddered.
“If ye do that, I don’t know if I will be able to hold onto my control.”
“It’s getting better,” Beitris whispered, still feeling pain but wanting him to move. She thrust against him again, and Fraser moaned. He buried his head into her shoulder. His hands gripped the blankets. “Ye can move, Fraser.”
Fraser groaned, his body moving instantly. His thrusts were slow at first, testing. He kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, before lifting his gaze to hers. His eyes searched her face, looking for any pain or fear, but she smiled up at him, her legs tightening around him. He gasped as she met his thrust, urging him to go deeper, faster. She tossed back her head, all pain leaving her and being replaced with pleasure.
“More,” she whispered.
Fraser growled, his body thrusting faster. She gasped as she felt him going deeper. One hand slipped between them, and his finger slipped around her little nub, stroking her while he thrust deeper and harder. She moved against him. Her hands stroked up and down his arms before entangling themselves in his hair. She pulled him to her, kissing him sloppily.
Fraser groaned as his tongue met hers, entwining around her into a dance. His hand pulled away from her core, and he grabbed her hips, keeping her steady as he moved inside her. She gasped as he rolled her over, her face flushing as she stared down at him. His eyes stared up at her, glossy with pleasure, while his hands stroked up and down her waist. Her embarrassment was quickly replaced by desire, and she moved against him, earning a groan from Fraser.
His hands cupped her breasts as she moved, pinching her nipples between his knuckles. Her mouth grew slack as she felt herself soar higher. She grabbed his hands, gripping them tight, needing something to ground her as she felt pleasure take her higher.
“Fraser,” she gasped, feeling herself reaching something, but she didn’t know what.
“Beitris,” Fraser moaned.
Beitris bit her lip, trying to contain the strange sounds demanding to surface. She gasped, her head lulling from side to side. “Fraser,” she said, louder this time. She whimpered, thrusting harder into him. He met her movements, his member pulsing in her. His hips moved faster, deeper.
“Fraser!” she shouted, her body reaching that something. She felt as if her body was shattering into tiny pleasurable pieces. Her hands gripped him painfully while she shuddered above him, her movements stilling.
Fraser stilled underneath her, a long moan escaping his lips as he emptied himself inside her. All her strength left her, and she toppled onto him, her face nuzzling his chest. Fraser rolled her over, cradling her in his arms. He stroked the hair away from her face and kissed her lips. She smiled up at him, stroking the side of his face. Beitris didn’t think it was possible to adore a man so much—a man she only met six days before—but she knew she wouldn’t be able to live without Fraser.
She cared for him too much.
