She wriggled the hem of his silver-threaded shirt up, her eyes widening on the bulge in his pants then gently, she caressed his cock and balls through the soft leather and smiled at him. “Do you like this kind of touch?”
“Immensely.” And the word ‘immensely’ could barely express just how much, but his actions might. He captured her mouth with his and kissed her. He twined his tongue around hers and moaned as she rubbed him harder below. Turnabout was fair play. He opened her shirt—his shirt she’d tied together with the front flaps—and cupped her breasts through her tank top. Her nipples, so hard and pointy, demanded his touch. He pinched the tips then moaned as she opened the button-fly of his pants, freed his shaft and curled her fingers around him. One stroke was all it took for his balls to tighten and lift and when she swirled her thumb over his head, he shot his load into her hand. He grunted, the sound muffled against her neck as he bent over her. “Damn it. I didn’t meant to come that fast. My apologies.”
“Don’t be sorry, because I intend to make you come again.” She continued to stroke him, and he got even harder. Surly coming twice in so short a time was impossible.
“I can see you’re going to make me lose my mind, but I’m not losing it again without you.” He opened her jeans, slid his hand inside her silk panties and rubbed her tight nub. Taking her mouth in a hot kiss, he devoured her until the sweet honey scent of her arousal rose and saturated his senses. When she gasped and shuddered in his arms, he slid one finger deep inside her channel and growled at the delicious tug of her inner muscles tightening on him, pulsing and pulling.
“Want you bad—need to bite you—still coming,” she panted as her body squeezed him even harder.
If she wanted him, he’d give her exactly what she asked for. He gripped his jacket collar and shirt with his free hand and hauled it to the side of his neck, her orgasm still dragging his finger deep within her. “Bite me,” he urged. “Now.”
“Aye, my big bear.” Still caressing his shaft, she sucked his offered skin and bit down, so hard he came, soaring over the edge of no return as she bucked against him, her channel sucking on his finger so greedily.
He held her as they both came back down, his heart beating a rapid tattoo against hers. “Isla,” he murmured, “I can’t wait to join with you fully.”
“I can’t wait to join with you either. My bear wants to play, and she intends to have her wicked way.” Her knees wobbled and she clung to his shoulders. “Don’t let me go. My limbs are like jelly.”
“Tonight, we roam, just the two of us.” He kissed her again, soft and languidly, then he forced himself to pull away before he took her all over again. When he joined with her fully, it’d be in complete privacy and in one of his favorite places on Earth.
“I tossed some cosmetic wipes in the trolley before. We could use them to clean up.”
“Good thinking.” He lifted the tab on the packet, pulled a bunch out and carefully wiped her hand of his come then himself and buttoned his pants.
She tended to herself below, straightened her clothing and binned the cloths in the corner trash can where he’d tossed his. “Now I’m really hungry.” One sexy smile.
“Then allow me to feed my little bear.”
After leaving the checkout area, Isla walked outside to the SUV as Iain carried her purchases. Mmm, her core still tingled from the exquisite orgasms he’d given her, one that had toppled right over the next as he’d made her soar from her body and reach the stars.
He opened the trunk and as he set her bags inside, she leaned against his back and stroked his broad shoulders. She caressed downward, over his rigid biceps and back up again. “I hope you don’t mind public displays of affection.”
“I’d be a fool if I did.” He closed the trunk and faced her, his eyes a molten pool of liquid gold. “My body is yours to touch, as and when you wish.”
“The same goes for you.”
“Then that will make for an interesting time away together.” He twined their fingers and led her though the tavern’s front door and past a corner table in the entranceway with a decorative oak-aged beer barrel with the Innis and Gunn stamp emblazoned on the front.
A long carpet runner of rich burgundy and blue ran the length of the wooden floor in front of the bar up ahead. Standing behind the bar’s polished oak countertop was a portly barman dressed in black pants and a white shirt with a red and blue checked tea towel slung over one shoulder. He poured a drink for a business man dressed in a gray suit who perched on one of the four barstools.