Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
And quite suddenly, I want him. And I want all of him.
I may be wilder than my other friends—less prudish than Rhona, or Una, that’s for sure. But just the same, I’ve never done… well, any of it. There’s never been a man. Never a boy, either.
But here, with Callum, and with his lips on mine, his hands on me, and that growl lingering on his lips, there’s nothing I want more. Right here, I know he could ask me for anything, it’d be his for the taking.
My hand trembles as I move it back to the thick bulge in his tartan, and when my fingers brush over it, he groans, tightening under me.
“Princess,” he growls, and he’s about to say something else when I lean up, pull his head down, and kiss him fiercely. And damn if I don’t get lost in his lips—drowning in that kiss as he groans hungrily and as the whimper catches in my throat.
Slowly, I pull away, my eyes locked on his, my lips swollen from our kiss.
“Let me…” I blush fiercely, stammering before he cups my cheek, leans down, and kisses me softly.
“Let me—” I swallow, heat blazing through my face as I get lost in his eyes.
My hand strokes over his thick bulge, and the rough, muscled highlander grunts in pleasure.
“Catriona…” he purrs. There’s an edge of warning in his voice, but I ignore it as my hands boldly move over his kilt. I tug at the edge of it, peeling it back and open as he groans deeply. My pulse races, and I know how wrong this is—how wicked and sinful what we’re doing is. But maybe that’s the reason my entire being craves more. Maybe the sin in this is the reason the fire in my veins is roaring for more.
I take a breath, my hand tightens on his kilt, and I boldly yank it open.
…And I gasp.
Callum’s big cock springs free, right in front of my eyes, and my stomach tightens as my pulse skips a beat. He felt big against my tummy. He looked big tenting his kilt. But bare, unclothed, and throbbing right in front of my very eyes, inches from my face, it’s like a bolt of lightning right to my core.
His thick, tremblingly hard, huge cock pulses in front of me, sending heat clenching through my core. My thighs squeeze shut almost with a mind of their own, but as his hand is still there against me, squeezing them shut only sends pleasure teasing through me as I end up squeezing his hand harder against my pussy.
My pulse thunders as I slowly reach out, and when my fingertips brush his thickness, I whimper quietly.
God, it’s so big.
And so hard, and also so soft to the touch. It’s like warm silk wrapped around steel, and the power I can feel just barely brushing my fingertips across him sends heat through my core.
My fingers get bolder, and slowly, I wrap them around his big cock. They don’t even touch, but the feeling of him so huge in my hand has me moaning.
My mind wanders, to the time one my best friends Iona and I were sneaking sips of whiskey we’d stolen from my father’s library out in the horse stables. There’d been a small commotion, and footsteps, and we’d hidden ourselves just before two figures came giggling and tumbling into the barn—Alan Macworth, one of my father’s bannermen, and the Lady Wilson, wife to another of my father’s men.
At first, there’d just been kissing—and kissing unlike anything Iona and I had ever seen before. And the was scandalous and giggle-inducing enough, considering Rosy Wilson was married. But when they’d moved to a bale of hay, and when Rosy had dropped to her knees and reached for Alan’s tartan, our stifled giggles had turned to red-faced shock.
Because right there in the barn, Lady Wilson had put her mouth on Alan’s… well, his cock. She’d bobbed her head up and down, slurping loudly on his unimpressive looking cock until he’d grunted, grabbed her hair, and gasped as he’d pumped into her mouth.
Iona and I had been shocked when it was over, and they’d snuck away again. We’d joked later about how disgusting it was, and it was if it was Lady Wilson and Alan Macworth doing it. But the idea of putting my lips around a man’s cock and having that kind of power over him—him groaning and panting for more, all because of me and my lips and tongue, was sinfully hot to think about.
And now, for the first time ever, the opportunity is right in front of me.
…Literally.
My fingers curl around Callum’s very thick, very much many-times-the-size-of-Alan’s cock. And right then, I know what I want to do more than anything.
I lean forward, my fingers gently stroking his throbbing length. And before he can say a word, I’ve pursed my lips together, leaned in, and kissed the fat, swollen head of his cock