Which was the reason Cat found it doubly disturbing for Andrew to suggest the possibility that Esme Munro might not be as loyal to the McGregor family as had previously been supposed.
Seeing the other woman in such intense conversation with Fiona Munro earlier had added to those feelings of disquiet.
Cat frowned as she saw Fiona crossing the yard to where Alec stood in conversation with his father. A conversation which would no doubt include the unwelcome advice of the son to the father regarding his drinking too much.
“Bottom soothed?”
She spun round to see Andrew entering her bedchamber and then closing and locking the door behind him. He looked no less resplendent than he had at the start of the day in the formal jacket and kilt, his presence once again robbing Cat of breath.
He crossed the room with the stealth of a hunter approaching its prey. “Perhaps I should check for myself?” he prompted as he came to a halt only inches in front of her.
Cat grasped his arm and attempted to pull him away from the window. “We will be seen together if anyone should glance up here,” she explained when Andrew refused to move.
His mouth twisted as he continued to remain stubbornly in place. “I am not feeling particularly concerned about other people’s opinion of me after having had yet another unpleasant conversation with your ex-brother-in-law.”
Cat stilled. “What did Alec say this time?”
Andrew’s jaw tightened. “Nothing which need concern you just now.” He appeared to purposefully ease some of the tension from his shoulders before eyeing her warmly. “Now, I really do believe your bottom needs to be looked at. Shall I sit on the bed with you over my thighs or—and I really would prefer this choice—can I drag the bedroom chair over to the window and inspect your bare bottom there? Having, of course, already observed that the windowsill is high enough that no one looking up here would be able to see you draped bare-arsed across my thighs.”
That wild fluttering had once again started in Cat’s chest and the heat to gather between her thighs.
Andrew stepped closer. “Bed or chair…?” he invited huskily.
She lifted her chin. “And if I say neither?”
His mouth quirked. “Then I shall make the decision for you.”
Cat had no explanation as to why she found this man’s domineering attitude so arousing.
She only knew that she did.
“Bed or chair, little Cat?”
Chapter Eleven
“Chair.”
Exhilaration expanded Andrew’s chest, and his admiration for Cat grew stronger than ever at hearing her decisive answer.
He had sought out her company for quite another purpose, but one look at her flushed and beautiful face and all other thoughts were pushed aside as his cock became thick and hard with a throbbing need to be inside her.
“But”—she paused until she his gaze met hers—“and I know you said we intended saving this until later tonight, but know that I fully intend to be on my knees between your thighs rather than across them. With your kilt pushed up to the waist, your bare cock in my mouth, and your balls in my hand.”
The cock in question was already straining against the front of Andrew’s kilt, and his balls began to throb almost painfully at the image Cat’s words evoked.
She eyed him challengingly. “I can make demands of my own, I hope?”
At the moment, she was demanding to suck his cock while he sat in front of the window. Where he, at least, and his expressions, would be visible to anyone who cared to glance up toward the house.
Andrew breathed out shakily. “I…have no argument with that plan.” No man in their right mind would.
Cat’s triumphant smile as she dropped slowly to her knees was literally that of a cat that had lapped the cream.
Or was about to.
Andrew’s balls drew up tighter still at the thought of releasing his cum into the heat of Cat’s mouth before it was swallowed down.
Would Cat swallow?
He knew that some women found the very idea of even sucking a cock distasteful, let alone swallowing a man’s seed.
Would Cat?
Once Andrew was seated in the chair he placed so that was he was facing the window and only the top of his chest and face were visible, the sensual heat in her eyes told him that she would.
And very much enjoy doing so.
With only a week as a married woman to guide her and advice from Elena before the wedding, Cat had little experience beyond what she and Ewan had experimented with and found pleasure in doing together. But she knew that having his cock handled and sucked had definitely been one of the things Ewan enjoyed.
The look of anticipation on Andrew’s face, along with his flushed cheeks and feverish eyes as he stared down at her kneeling between his parted thighs, told her he was going to enjoy it too.
She rested her hands on his muscular thighs as she slowly pushed the kilt up until his cock—completely bare, as Andrew had said—was fully on display.
His cock was at least nine inches long and possibly six around, with dark curls at its base, and a very red and glistening mushroomed top.
Cat’s mouth salivated merely from gazing at that turgid flesh, her breaths becoming light and shallow as she gripped one hand firmly about the girth of it before leaning forward to take that bulbous top fully into the heat of her mouth.
Andrew gave a low and almost agonized groan even as his taste exploded pleasurably in Cat’s mouth. Their audience, if they should have one, was completely forgotten by Andrew as his head fell back against the chair, exposing the vulnerability of his throat.
His reaction was unsurprising, if this truly was the first time he had allowed himself to be with a woman in ten years. It must almost feel as if he were a virgin again after all that time of remaining untouched by any other hand but his own.
Spurred on by that knowledge, Cat tightened
