#laythornmuse

What did we do? Did we? She ran her hands along the planes of her body and was both relieved and disappointed to see that she had fallen asleep fully dressed.  Was she relieved because they didn’t or was she disappointed because they didn’t?

The whisky! Yes, they both did have quite a lot to drink last night. It all came back to her.  Each of them had shared the most painful, most secret parts of their lives with each other. It had been cleansing, a relief to be able to say those things long buried never to be thought of let alone spoken of. Claire was glad that the person she had shared those memories with was Jamie. He did not pass judgment on her. Rather, he had just accepted her and was compassionate. Most of all did not pity her.

Claire sighed.  She hated to get up, but she needed to use the loo urgently. Getting some water to drink would also be heavenly. Her mouth felt like the Sahara.  Claire slowly wiggled her way out from under Jamie’s grasp without waking him. Immediately, she regretted moving away from him feeling the loss of his heat. The man was a virtual furnace. More so, she missed the feeling of security that came from being in his embrace. She felt safe with his arm around her. A feeling she could definitely get used to.

Taking one of the cashmere throws, Claire wrapped it around herself. The throw was a very poor substitute for Jamie’s warmth.

Quietly she padded to the loo. The bathroom, too, was magnificent. It was done in white Italian marble with rich veins of gray. Thick luxurious towels and facial clothes were artistically displayed on a heated towel rack.  Two terry cloth robes awaited their use. Needless to say, the floors were heated. Violet orchids decorated the countertop.

While Claire washed her hands after using the loo, she quickly took stock of herself.  Her hair was a wild mass of curls, mascara rings under her eyes, her face blotchy from crying, and wrinkled from sleep. She looked quite a mess if she did say so herself.

Claire brushed her teeth, undressed, and entered the shower. The rainforest shower head was set to random giving a realistic feeling of showering in the rain. It was exhilarating yet at the same time tranquil and peaceful. The steam from the shower perfumed the room with the scent of flowers and herbs from the shampoo and soap she was using. As she lathered her skin her mind drifted to her sleeping friend. Her hands slick with soap and wet from the shower slid over the curves of her body.  Claire wondered what it would feel like to have Jamie touch her. What would it be like to have those large skilled hands caress her skin, knead her breasts, feel his tongue swirl over her nipples? His hands, what if they drifted lower between her legs. What would it felt like? She began to shudder with the thought, with the need. Claire thought she could ride him all night long. She felt her color rise from her chest to her hairline.

“Oh get a grip Beauchamp, just do,” she scolded herself.  She rinsed herself off from head to toe, towel drying her hair.  Claire reached for her rose-colored silk nightgown slipping it on. Finally, Claire covered herself in one of the luxurious terry bathrobes. It was strange Claire thought, she did not remember packing this nightgown as it had thin straps, a floral lace bodice which swept around to the back.  Both the front and back of the nightgown plunged low.  It was completely inappropriate for a business trip.  She would have much preferred her cozy flannel pajamas instead.

Jamie was still asleep exactly where she had left him. Claire tiptoed over to the fireplace and watched the fluttering flames perform a mesmerizing dance.

Jamie woke and immediately missed Claire’s sleeping form next to him. The bed felt empty.  He chuckled to himself, “Already used to her sleeping next to ye, are ye?” He turned to look for her and spied her sitting on the wee loveseat watching the flames. Slowly and quietly he rose and walked to her. “Ye couldna sleep, Claire?” Jamie asked in a voice husky from sleep.  He placed his hands on her shoulders, bent over and kissed her gently on the temple. Her skin was still warm and damp from the shower. “Hmm, ye smell nice.”

Claire reached up took one of his hands brought it to her lips kissing his knuckles.

“I needed to use the loo. Unfortunately, I saw myself in the mirror and knew a shower was in order. I feel much better. Come sit with me, Jamie.” A taupe colored loveseat of buttery soft leather was situated in front of the fireplace.

Jamie lifted up the front of his shirt giving himself a sniff. “Phew. No’ just yet, Claire. Next to ye, I smell like a distillery. Give me a few moments so I can clean up aye?” Jamie turned and walked toward the bathroom.

“How do you know what a distillery smells like?”

“We have a small distillery on our farm. I worked in it during the summers, making money so I could go to Uni.”

Claire chuckled, “Is there anything that you haven’t done, Jamie?”

Jamie turned back to face Claire. He looked at her with a serious expression on his face, “I can think of several things that I havena did yet that I would verra much like to do, Claire, and they all involve ye.” Jamie strode purposefully into the bathroom.

Jamie closed the door and leaned against it, head falling backward resting against the door. He rolled his eyes up, shaking his head in disbelief. How did he come to say such a thing to Claire? Well, if nothing else, he was honest. He did want to do all manner of things to Claire.

The room was still warm and fragrant with the scent of her. It enveloped him, assaulting his senses. The room had the fecund scent of a garden. He pictured her standing in a garden lush with green things, herbs, and flowers. She was round and ripe with his child in her belly. He felt himself harden at the thought.

Shower. NOW.

He stripped off and got into the shower.  The shower was a lite rain alternating with a downpour.  What he needed was a pounding shower. Something that would help him regain his senses. This shower just made him want Claire more. Jamie wanted her in there with him. He wanted her hair to be plastered to her head, her face. He imagined the water trickling down over her breasts making her nipples pucker ready for him to suckle. Jamie fantasized about the water trickling down over her body in rivulets; his hands feeling the slick wetness of her body. He wanted to get on his knees open her and taste her causing her to squirm and gasp under his ministrations.  After she reached her peak, he would slam her into the wall, like the beast that he was, and take her in one swift move. He would take her hard, take her fast. There could be no gentleness about how he would take her, plunging his cock into her soft flesh over and over.  The rain washing over them, between them increasing the slickness of their bodies. Oh, and the sweet sounds she would make for him. He couldn’t ...he couldn’t ...he couldn’t … OH, GOD CLAIRE!!!

“Jamie, are you alright in there? You’ve been in there for quite a while.”

He thought the Americans had a word for it, it’s called it getting busted. “Aye, Claire I’m fine. Just enjoying the shower too much.  Be right out.”

Jamie toweled dry, put on the second terry robe, and came out.  He was flushed from more than the heat of the shower. Actually, he was rather shamefaced. Thank God the only light in the room came from the fireplace. At least he was calmer, his pent-up lust having been relieved.

Jamie walked over to the small refrigerator taking out two bottles of mineral water and went to sit next to Claire on the love seat.

He looked at the small loveseat and worried that it might not fit his large frame. If it did perhaps their combined weight would make the thing collapse.

“Who made this thing,” he wondered to himself, “Munchkins?”

Claire looked up at him expectantly.

“Weel, there’s nay help for it.” Jamie quietly muttered and sat down.

The love seat groaned under their combined weight but remained intact. It was a tight fit sitting next to each other with their thighs rubbing together from the limited space available.  Jamie felt his cock begin to twitch again, simply from the nearness to Claire.

“Will ye no’ stay down, man!?” Jamie thought. His cock twitched again in response to his admonition.

Jamie opened one bottle of water, handed it to Claire and opened the second bottle for himself. He quickly drained it down in one long gulp.

“You seem very thirsty, Jamie. Would you like mine too?”

“No thank ye lass, I am much restored,” he lied.

They sat there enjoying the peacefulness that surrounded them, each absorbed in his or her own thoughts.

Finally, Claire broke the silence. “Jamie,” she said as she turned to look at him, “What this is between us is different. I have never felt like this before.  I mean I don’t have a vast amount of experience with men, but I think this is unusual. Do you think so too?”

“Aye, lass. ‘Tis. I feel different somehow, happier.”  He looked at her and grinned. “I never felt like this before with a lass.”

Claire became quiet again, her lips drawn together in a tight line. “I need you to know that I am not good at sharing for reasons you are aware of.” Claire added hurriedly, “Before we go any further, I need to know if you are seeing any other women. I don’t want to be part of some harem of girlfriends. I couldn’t do it.” Claire bit her lip and nervously waited for his answer.

Jamie looked at her rather shocked. “Do ye think me a Casanova then Claire?”

“Jamie, there is no denying that you are a very handsome man.  I see how women react to you. For goodness’ sake, some outright ogle you. A man like you must have several girlfriends.  I really wouldn’t be surprised at all if you had a whole bevy of beauties lined up.” Claire’s breathing quickened all while her lip chewing becomes more exaggerated as her anxiety became more pronounced.

“Me?! Me?! Women ogle me? I have always thought myself rather grotesque and frightening to women, because of my size ye ken. Yer teasing me, lass,” Jamie narrow-eyed Claire in disbelief.

He really doesn’t see it! “No, Jamie I am not teasing you. Did you know that the nurses have a nickname for you?”

Jamie looked utterly bewildered. His brows drew together forming a line between them, “Go on with ye, they dinna. Do they? What do they call me?”

Claire looked at him narrowly, “The nurses call you Doctor McDreamy. You honestly didn’t know that?”

Jamie sat there with his mouth gaping. He rather looked like a goldfish with his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

“And what about Laoghaire?” Claire asked in a carefully controlled tone.  “She is always following you around, visiting you in your office, and dressing in very sexy clothes for you.  Christ, the way she flaunts herself in front of you! Surely you have feelings for her?” Claire thought she sounded like a jealous old biddy, but she really couldn’t help it because the truth be told she was jealous.

“Claire, I dinna care about other women. For that matter, I dinna care about Laoghaire, never have and never will. She is naught but a lass in a woman’s body. I need a real woman, Claire. I need you. There is only ye, Claire, only ye,” Jamie said with a look of such sincerity on his face that there was only one thing Claire could do.

Claire leaned in closing the distance between the two of them and kissed Jamie tenderly. She moved to deepen the kiss when Jamie took her by the arms and broke the kiss.

“Fair’s fair’s, lass, are ye seeing anyone?”

“Well, I do have a roommate.” Claire jumped up hurrying to get her phone. “I have a picture. I’ll show you.” A wide grin broke out across her face as she brought the phone over to where they were sitting.  Claire shuffled through the pictures searching for it.

“Tis nay bother, lass,” Jamie said with a thickness in his throat. He really did not want to see who her roommate was.  All was lost, he thought.  This was her way of letting him down. How could he have been such a fool? A lass such as her must have many admirers.

Claire found the picture she was looking for and thrust the phone into Jamie’s hand.

Jamie looked down at the phone, looked back at Claire, and looked back at the phone.

“It’s a wee doggie,” Jamie said astounded. He looked at the picture in disbelief.

“Yes,” Claire said bursting with pride as she looked at the picture.

Jamie repeated himself, “It’s a dog.”

“Yes, it is. She is my best friend.” Claire bubbled enthusiastically. “Isn’t she just beautiful? My pretty girl. Her name is Ginger.” Claire took the phone back from Jamie cuddled it to her chest, cooing to the picture.

Claire began to prattle on about how she and the dog found each other, what they do, where they go for walkies, and on, and on, and on.

Jamie was not attending to what Claire was saying. Instead, he focused on her.

She seems so proud of the beast almost as if it were her bairn. Her face was alight with love and devotion for the pup.  She belonged to the dog and the dog belonged to her.

At that moment that Jamie really understood Claire Beauchamp.  Claire orphaned at a young age, lived an unorthodox and nomadic life with her archaeologist Uncle. Claire traveled the world, had adventures, and lived in tents. She did not have parents who would sing lullabies or tell bedtime stories to her. She did not have a home, siblings, family, playmates, school, schoolmates, friends, or any of the other human attachments that Jamie had and for that matter, had taken for granted his whole life. Claire probably never had a pet before. Even in her disastrous marriage to that bastard Randall, Claire had been alone. It was understandable how Claire and her uncle had fallen prey to Randall’s machinations. They were simply no match for his guile.

Jamie’s heart broke for his friend. He swore she would never be alone again or without human attachment along as he was alive. He would always care for her, no matter how, no matter where.  Jamie silently cried for his friend.

“Don’t you think so, Jamie?” Claire asked.

Jamie didn’t respond as he was lost in his thoughts.

“Jamie are you alright?  You seem distracted.”

“Aye, Claire, I was just doing a bit of woolgathering.” Jamie hesitated but needed an answer, “Claire, what I need to know is are ye seeing anyone? Ye know romantically?”  

Claire blushed, “No, there has been no one since Frank. Well, I have gone out on a few dates occasionally, but there haven’t been any serious relationships. It was usually just for dinner and then that was it.  I wasn’t interested in forming relationships after Frank.  Actually, I was put off men. I simply didn’t trust them enough to get involved.”

“Now ye think ye are willing to open yer heart, Claire? Maybe for me?” Jamie asked hope blooming in his heart.  “I need ye to be sure lass of yer feelings as I canna go back to being just friends if we do this.  I want us to be more.”

“Yes, Jamie I am.  I want you. I want us, and I want this.” Claire’s eyes glistened, shining with love for him.

Jamie took both her small fragile hands in his large ones placing them over his heart, “Claire, I want ye so much I can scarcely breathe.  Will ye have me?”

“Yes, Jamie, I’ll have you.” Claire raised a hand cupping Jamie’s cheek, smoothing away the lines of tension from his face.

Claire began to fumble with the knot of her robe. Jamie placed his hands over hers, stilling her hands.  He stood helping Claire to rise up as well.

“Let me do that, mo nighean donn. Let me unwrap ye like the gift ye are to me.”

Claire felt herself go weak in the knees. How does he know exactly the right words to say?

Jamie’s eyes darkened with growing lust. He knew he needed to control his desires. This was about Claire. Her wants. Her needs. He was here to serve her in the way she deserved. To be adored, to be worshiped, to be pleasured.  Jamie reached for the robe’s ties and slowly pulled them apart allowing the robe to fall open exposing only the merest hint of her. Reverently, Jamie pushed the robe off her shoulders, down her arms allowing it to fall to the floor.  Claire stood before him glowing in her rose-colored gown. Her nipples began to harden as they were now exposed to the cooler air of the room. They strained against the silky fabric of the nightgown making Jamie long to touch them, suckle them.

“Claire,” he groaned. His hand rose and slid inside the gown taking in the fullness of her breast. He felt her shudder against his touch. Jamie slid his fingers over each nipple in turn, rolling, stroking, flicking.

Claire’s breathing grew heavier as he caressed each breast. Her eyes closed, head fell back, lips parted moaning Jamie’s name softly.  Her belly tightened. There was a growing warmth and wetness between her thighs. Oh, how she wanted him.

“I mean to know ye, Claire, every part of ye. I want to know how ye feel, what ye smell like, and how ye taste.  I want to know all yer womanly secrets.”

“My God,” Claire thought. “Maizie was right. He did want to devour her.” A tremor rushed through her with that thought.

Jamie’s hands went to the thin straps of the nightgown and slid them off Claire’s shoulders letting the silk flutter down pooling around her feet. She was naked to him now. Bare.

Jamie took two steps back and gazed upon the beauty of Claire.  The light from the fireplace danced across her skin illuminating her porcelain skin. She glowed like a hundred suns filling the room with her radiance. Overcome by this vision before him, he let out a gasp and a single tear ran down his face. “Tu êtes plus belle que dix milliards couchers de soleil.”

Claire blushed furiously at this extravagant compliment. Still, Claire was unaccustomed to being naked before a man, particularly under such intense scrutiny. Suddenly, she became shy.  She moved to cover herself with her arms.

“Dinna cover yerself, Claire, yer sae beautiful and I wish to look at ye.”

Claire left her arms at her sides, holding her head up allowing herself to be admired.

“I want to see you too, Jamie.”  Claire walked forward taking the ties of his robe in her hands pulling them apart.  He was naked underneath the robe.  She pushed the robe over his shoulders and down his arms watching as it tumbled to the floor.

Claire stood back and took him in.  He was beautifully made, chiseled face with high cheekbones reminiscent of his Viking heritage. His body toned and hard muscled. The body of an athlete or warrior. There was nothing physically soft about him. His arousal was clearly evident. It was engorged, flushed, and ready. Claire wondered how it would feel as it rent her soft flesh, filling her completely. She wanted to touch him everywhere.

“I want to see your scars.”

Jamie opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it. He hung his head, closed his eyes, and nodded giving her permission to inspect his back.

Claire walked slowly to Jamie. She trailed her hand over his skin relishing the feeling of strength emanating from him. His back was a maze of scar tissue. The area of injury was extensive and unable to be totally covered in grafts. Skin expanders had been used to help close some of the wounds. Some were left to heal on their own. Claire traced the scars with featherlight touches caressing each one. She leaned in to press a kiss to each of the marks in turn just as a mother would do to soothe a child’s injury. Jamie trembled from Claire’s attentions.

Claire continued walking around him and returned to face him. Jamie’s face and eyes were averted from her. Her hand tenderly stroked his face feeling the rasp of his stubble. Still, he refused to meet her gaze.

“Do I sicken ye, lass? Do ye find me repulsive?” he spoke in a wavering voice as he looked into the distance fearing rejection from Claire.

“No, Jamie you don’t sicken or repulse me. I find you heartbreakingly beautiful.”

Jamie let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. His eyes swam with tears as he gazed upon his beloved. She was able to see beyond his deformity and see him for who he was.

Claire walked toward Jamie, wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her hips against his, trapping his hardened length against their bellies. She raised her eyes, the shade of perfectly aged sherry to meet his of cerulean blue, “Jamie, take me to bed, make love to me.”

Claire saw a visible change come over Jamie.  He looked positively feral. Jamie’s eyes glazed becoming black pools, black as a starless night sky. His red-gold hair, still damp from the shower, was a mass of curls that framed his face giving the appearance of a predatory cat stalking its prey. His muscles tense, hands clenched into fists, ready to pounce.

Claire kept her arms around Jamie’s neck as she ground her hips against his, needing to feel the heat of his length against her. His hands slowly stroked Claire’s back pulling her closer to him.

“I dreamt of this so often, Claire. Now, it’s real.”

“Yes, it is,” Claire said resting her head against his chest.

Jamie reached down lifted Claire up, her legs coming around his waist, and carried her to the bed. Gently, ever so gently, Jamie laid her down on the bed.

Jamie stood there taking in the goddess before him. He reveled in the lushness of her womanly body. Her hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo made of dark curls. Her skin was flushed pink from want and need. Jamie ran a finger over her lips, they were moist, soft, and red like rose petals, and they were begging to be kissed. Claire’s skin was the color of cream and soft as velvet. Jamie spied her breasts, the heavy globes that he desired, that he wanted to hold and feel their weight in his hands. She had delicate pink nipples that he longed to take in his mouth and suckle like a babe. Claire’s legs were slightly parted, but enough that he could see her want.

Jamie climbed into the bed and held his love in his arms.

“Mo ghràdh,” he whispered.

They spoke to each other through the language of the soul, from the voice of the heart and through the action of the body. In this joining of the trinity of soul, heart, and body, their souls would recognize its lost half, hear the voice of the heart calling, and unite through the body. And they would, at last, become one, become whole, become complete.

Gentle caresses, lightly stroking gave way to a bolder touching of face, arms, breast, and thighs. Always reaching toward the most intimate and sacred parts of their bodies striving toward connection, oneness.

Sweet sighs, throaty moans, words of love were carried away from their lips like a soft breeze floating through a meadow ruffling through the flowers.

Jamie rose over her nudging her legs further apart with his knee. He lay on top of her, balancing his weight on his arms. He kissed her eyes and the tip of her nose. Jamie came to concentrate on her mouth. Gently, he placed a kiss so soft, so tender on her lips as to make her weep. Holding her gaze, he lightly slid his tongue across her lips, softly, tenderly. Soon mouths, lips hungrily sought more. His tongue skimmed her trembling lips seeking entrance which she gladly gave. Their tongues battled for supremacy, swirling, thrusting, probing, tasting each other breaking apart only when they needed air.

Jamie slowly slid down Claire’s body, peppering her skin with warm wet kisses. His greedy hands found the full swell of her breasts. They were full, heavy, and ripe in his hand. He caressed each one paying homage to them equally. Her nipples were raised and firm. Jamie’s mouth took possession of each nipple in turn.

Claire cried out, “Jamie! Please!” She arched her back encouraging him to take more of her nipple into his mouth, suck harder. He bit down just enough to cause her to gasp.

Claire began to writhe beneath him. Her breathing became more ragged. Her belly was tight, and there was a throbbing deep inside of her that she needed satisfied. She was losing herself under his touch.

Jamie began to make his way down Claire’s body, leaving a trail of hot kisses, small nips, and bites along her chest and belly.  His smoldering eyes never left her face, watching her as her pleasure built.

Claire sucked in her breath after Jamie had nipped at a particularly sensitive area on her belly.  

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“A bit,” Claire replied.

“Do ye want me to stop?”

“N..N..Noooo,” Claire replied her voice shaking.

“Good,” he said his mouth forming a self-satisfied smirk.

Jamie reached his objet de désir, the apex of her femininity.  He let his large calloused fingers drift down feeling her wetness taking some of her moisture on his fingers.  He brought his fingers to his nose, “Eau de femme.” His tongue snaked out and ran across his fingers tasting her nectar. Jamie nuzzled his face into the cleft, inhaled her scent. “Parfum d'amour.”

His fingers opened her. His tongue found her pleasure nub and began to to circle, swirl around and over it. His fingers began to stroke her entrance. One finger entered her, then another. His fingers moving in time with his tongue.

“Christ, Claire, ye are so tight and so wet!” Jamie was driven into a deeper savage lust.

Ripples of pleasure ran through Claire; her body was set aflame. She cried out Jamie’s name begging, pleading for release followed by obscenities falling from her lips.

Claire moved relentlessly against his fingers and tongue desperately seeking more, seeking her release.

“Claire, dinna move, lass. Let me pleasure you.”

“I can’t help it, Jamie, I really can’t.” Claire whimpered.

Jamie brought his arms over Claire’s legs grasping onto to her hips, pinning them down against the bed to still her movements, hoping to prolong her pleasure.

The restraint drove Claire to near madness from the sensations. Claire fisted the sheets in her hands, gathering them, twisting them. Held down by his arms and the weight of his body, Claire realized she was helpless against him. She was his prisoner.  Prisoner to his lust. His want. His need. His love for her. And truth be told, she was held captive by her own lust and love for him.

Claire’s hands moved down grabbing Jamie’s hair urging him on. His hair was soft and silky under her fingers. Jamie redoubled his efforts.  His tongue flicked across her sensitive tissue, and his tongue entered her tasting her.

“Christ, Claire, yer honeypot is sae sweet. Yer driving me mad, woman.”

Claire moaned and whimpered. She was close and she knew it.

His eyes, a dark steely blue, was absorbed in watching her come apart from his ministrations.

“Claire, let it go. I want to watch you fall apart. Come for me, lass.”

Claire arched her back and cried out a keening sound deep from the recesses of her soul as she reached her zenith. Her body shook, trembled in the aftermath of her release.

Jamie climbed up and next to Claire holding her to his chest. He murmured sweet words in the Gàidhlig to soothe her.

As Claire’s breathing came under control, she developed a wicked look in her eyes.

Flipping Jamie on to his back she said, “You think this is over, do you? Well, guess again.”

She swung a leg over his groin and began rubbing herself along his length.

“Claire, what the devil do ye think yer doing?” Jamie looked startled by Claire’s sudden dominance.

“Don’t you like that, Fraser? Just think how it will feel when you're inside of me.”

Jamie moaned.

She leaned forward taking his mouth tasting herself on his lips. Claire found this to be arousing knowing that her essence anointed his lips, mouth, tongue, and face.  Now, her lips would hold the promise of waves of pleasure yet to come for Jamie.

“Fair’s, fair’s my love. It’s my turn.”

“But, Claire, that was for you. It was about you, giving you pleasure.”

Claire gave him a puzzled look, “And you think this won’t?”

Claire bent to her work.  She took hold of Jamie’s ear, nibbling, licking it. Her tongue followed the length of his muscular neck sucking, biting at the sensitive skin. Jamie moaned his hands holding on to her hips, He pushed her hips down hard against him grinding against her.

Claire bent and took his nipple between her teeth, biting. Jamie groaned.

“A little pain enhances the pleasure, don’t you think?” Claire gave him a salacious smile.

Jamie looked up at Claire. Her amber eyes were alight, glowing with lust. He didn’t know who this bean an deamhan was. But, he was glad she was his.

Claire continued on her quest, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites down his body. When she reached her heart’s desire, she pressed a loving kiss to his shaft.

“Claire! Ye canna mean to do…”

“And why not?” Claire looked at him curiously.

“Because!”

“Well, that is a very poor answer.”  In one swift move, Claire’s mouth engulfed him. There was a tangy taste to him and a strong male scent around him something that could only be described as uniquely Jamie.

“Claire, wait, stop….No! Wait, ye canna...Oh! God!  Dinna stop, please, dinna stop. Ahh. Oh, Claire!”

Her tongue ran along the length of his shaft and swirled at the head stoking a fire deep in the pit of his belly. She lightly ran her teeth over the shaft increasing the sensations.

“God, Claire.” His hands rested in her hair, caressing, pulling.

She changed her plan of attack. Her small hand encircled his hardened length, slowly stroking up with a bit of a twisting motion. She used her tongue and lips to tortuously lick and suck the tip.

A deep throaty growl issued from Jamie as he watched Claire love him. His hands clenched so hard his knuckles and fingers were white. His muscles tensed and rippled as he came perilously close to edge of no return.

“Claire,” Jamie hissed, “Ah need ye, lass. Ah needta be inside of ye, now.”

Claire looked up from her attentions, her eyes sparkling. “You want me, Jamie?”

“Aye,” he said through gritted teeth. “Ah needta feel ye on ma cock.” His Scots was getting broader.

Claire swung her leg over his hips. Taking him in her hand and gently rubbing his cock against her entrance giving him a seductive look.  “Is this where you want to be?”

“Damn ye woman, damn yer teasing. Ye wicked wee vixon. Ye ken what ah mean. Claire, please!”

Claire smiled at him as she impaled herself on him. She felt herself stretch to accommodate his length and girth. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect O.

Her hands braced on his chest and Claire began to rock. Jamie’s hips thrust up in time with each of Claire’s movements. He gripped her hips pressing them down grinding against her. He pressed so hard that he knew he would leave bruises. He didn’t care.

“Yer mine, now and forever, Claire. Whether ye will it or no, yer mine.”

“Yours,” Claire gasped.

In one swift move, Jamie grabbed Claire turning her on to her back and continued driving his hips home. Claire wrapped her legs around his hips encouraging him to go deeper.

“Harder,” she whispered. Jamie needed no further encouragement thrusting deeper and harder reaching the of her the tip of her womb.

Moans. Guttural cries. Whimpers. Begging. Cursing.

The tension built in their bodies asking for release. Shock waves of pleasure erupted over them as they reach the pinnacle of their completion in each other.

They collapsed into each other’s arms, sweaty, spent, sated, and so in love.

Tu êtes plus belle que dix milliards couchers de soleil.  -- You are more beautiful than a billion sunsets.

Eau de femme -- Scent of a woman. Taken from the Firey Cross the windowsill love scene

Parfum d'amour -- Perfume of love. Taken from the Firey Cross the windowsill scene.