Page 81 of The Scald Crow
I glided my hands over her perfect bottom, nibbling, pulling, and tugging her tender folds. When I pulled her clitoris into my mouth, her wee pussy spasmed with hot liquid heat.
“Yes. Oh, God. Yes.” She fisted her palms, flexing her hips in response to my trailing tongue.
A man could lose his mind over a woman like her.
When I introduced the tip of one finger and then two, her belly tightened, and her skin rippled. Her whimpers were enough to make me lose my resolve.
“Do you like that?” I stroked her heated channel, curling my fingers until her breathing raged and her hips bucked.
“Uh-huh, I want to come.” She squealed, calling the daemons to rise.
“No. Not yet.” I drew circles with my tongue, flicking her wee clit from side to side. I swept my tongue through her soft folds, delighting in her soft moans. I paused, dropping soft kisses to her exquisite belly button.
“More. Oh God, I need you. Colm. I want you.” She tossed her head back and forth.
Her heated gaze took me away from my task. She was more than beautiful, her hair in disarray and her cheeks flushed. She wet her bottom lip, causing me to lose concentration. I inched away, easing the pressure in my groin.
“I need to come.” Her voice rasped.
“Soon.” Soon, I would take her on one long, sensual ride.
“Now. Now, you don’t play fair, O’Donnell.” She bucked in rhythm with my gliding fingers.
I teased her flesh, pinching her clitoris between my teeth. When I suckled her burgeoning hood, her vagina tightened, clutching my fingers.
“Come for me,mo grhá.” I stroked her slick heat faster with just the right amount of pressure.
Anticipating her orgasm made my cock pulsate. The beast throbbed, threatening to burst the zippered confines of my jeans.
“You make me hot, O’Donnell. So hot.” Her eyes drifted open and closed, and a shudder rippled over her, the walls of her pussy clenching. I stroked her until she was replete. When her frenzy slowed, I withdrew my fingers and lifted her core to my lips, lapping and suckling her raw flesh, drinking up the last of her sweet nectar.
My hunger sated; I embraced her tightly and kissed the beads of sweat from her brow.
* * *
The two horses stood beneath the canopy of a leafy oak tree, tacked up and hitched to a cedar rail. There was no sign of wee James.
“Can I give you a leg up?” I twined my fingers together, offering her a jump onto the horse’s broad back.
She humored me, placing her foot in my cupped hands and taking the offered help.
She sat deep in the saddle, gazing down upon me, a smile lifting her luscious lips.
I adjusted her stirrups while Jack stood gallantly at attention as if he knew what precious cargo he carried.
Her eyes flashed, and a smile played on her lips.
I rested my hand on her calf, unable to resist touching her.
I mounted the white mare and, without further ado, leaned forward, giving Jack a firm slap on the buttocks.
Jack bolted toward the sea, his long stride sending Calla diving for the flying reins.
She regained her seat, as I knew she would, at ease with the big horse’s rhythm.
The horses slowed, and we rode side by side across the rolling meadow to where a narrow chasm, a green gully blooming with pink and purple flowers, led us toward the sea.
White sand, flecked with black diamonds, glimmered in the sun. Towering cliffs embraced the cove, with jagged rock slabs pitching into rolling waves. In the faraway distance, tendrils of peat smoke wafted on a west wind.
