Then his big hands were rucking up her sweater, lifting her shoulders, tugging it over her head, freeing her aching breasts, and she thought about words no more. He cupped and kneaded, pinching and tugging her nipples to hard peaks before stretching her hands above her head and pressing her firmly forward, flush to the desk, pillowing her breasts on it. Her nipples burned against the cool wood.

“Hold on to the edge of the desk, lass. Hands over your head like that.”

Swallowing, she gripped the carved edge of the desk.

One of his big hands closed on the nape of her neck. He turned her head to the side, pressing her cheek to the desk. A band of intricate Celtic knot-work divided two inlaid panels a few inches from her eyes. His big palm cupped the back of her head, keeping her still.

He slid his other hand between her legs and began parting her slick, exposed feminine folds.

She mewled helplessly. His zipper was already open. She’d yanked it free herself the second time he’d kissed her, while the other MacKeltars had still been in the library. She waited, lower lip caught between her teeth, for that first burning hot thrust of him.

Her whole body convulsed when the hard, thick head of his cock prodded her with insistent, delicious friction. He rubbed back and forth in her creamy heat, spreading the erotic slickness on him, on her. She twitched, desperate for him to push inside her, to soothe her, to release the unbearable tension in her body. He kicked back against the jeans taut at her ankles, stilling her.

“Please,” she gasped, trying to press back with her bottom, but she was unable to move even that much, the way he was holding her.

“Is this what you want?” he purred, his voice dark and rich, guiding himself between her sleek, swollen labia. Torturing her, stopping, poised at her entrance.

“Yes, please, Cian,” she wailed.

He began to feed himself into her slowly. She clenched the edge of the desk, gripping it so hard she felt like she was gouging nail scores into the glossy wood. He was so big, so thick. Her body had never yielded for this before and her inner female muscles tensed, trying to resist the steely male intrusion, even as she was aching for it. She squirmed what little she could, desperate to accommodate him.

He hissed long and low between clenched teeth. “Bloody hell, Jessica, you’re tight!”

“Probably because I’ve never . . . ah! . . . done this before!” she managed to force out, swamped by raw, intense sensation.

He went still behind her, barely in her. “Tell me you jest,” he said tightly after a long moment.

“Cian,” she cried, “don’t you dare stop now!”

“You are maiden? At your age?”

“I’m not that old. Move, damn it!”

“By my time’s standards, ’tis unfathomable!”

“By mine, too,” she gritted. “So now that I’ve decided not to be a virgin anymore, is it too much to ask for a little h—elp!” He pushed forward, piercing her hymen in a smooth, even thrust.

He gave her but a moment of stillness to recover, to adjust. The brief stinging sensation passed quickly and once more she was burning with feverish need.

Gripping her hips with his big hands, he began to impale her slowly, inch by mind-blowingly delicious inch. Relentlessly he usurped every nook and cranny her body ceded.

“Can you take more, Jessica? I’m not yet half in, lass. Am I hurting you?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, yes and then no! Yes. More!”

He pushed yet more of himself in, stretching her, filling her, long and thick and hard.

She whimpered, clinging to the desk. It was unlike anything she’d imagined. She was certain there was no way she could take more of him inside her, but then her sleek inner heat would not only yield but thrill to him, both stretch and embrace, ease yet tighten hungrily around him. She was a velvet glove, custom-crafted for him. She’d been made for this man, she marveled, designed to sheathe him.

With one final, strong push, he thrust himself in to the hilt, the silky hair on his muscular thighs rasping against her silky bottom, and she cried out from the fullness of it. It was pain yet pleasure, it was too much, yet just exactly right. She was full of him, part of him, her body melting around him, adhering to him, making them one. It was raw, it was fierce, it was incredible.

Then he began moving! Easing out, inch by incredible inch, leaving her hot and empty and aching.

Filling her back up just as slowly. Driving himself into her sleek heat.

Cian stared down at Jessica’s pretty, silken ass as he worked himself in and out of her. Bloody hell, she was tight and hot and slick.