Disappointment and rejection ate at Lachlan as he removed his hands from her hips.
“Fuck it,” she whispered as she hooked a hand around his nape and pulled him down to crush their mouths together.
Relief and satisfaction flooded Lachlan as his mouth explored hers while his hands explored her supple body.
Needing every inch of her wrapped around him, he carried her to the desk until her arse was on it, and then he shoved the hem of her tight dress up her silky thighs so she could spread them.
“You know the rules?” He broke their kiss as he insinuated himself between her legs. He throbbed against her. “You know what this is?”
Robyn nodded, eyes low-lidded with desire, hips arching off the desk to push into him. “Just sex.”
Just sex, he thought as he kissed her harder, deeper, as his hands caressed her body, frustrated by the material of her dress that kept him from bare skin. Not just sex. Mindless, exciting fucking.
Want.
Need.
Robyn.
Lachlan cupped her breasts in his hands, massaging them through her dress, rocking into her body with his desire to see her naked. There wasn’t time. Not here.
Naked could come later.
For now, he just needed to be surrounded by her.
Fumbling in his sporran for the condom he’d half-jokingly put in there, he realized the sporran was in the way and unbelted it. Dropping it to the floor, he ripped at the condom packet with his teeth, staring into Robyn’s lust-filled eyes.
A little smirk played around her lips as he rolled the condom on under his kilt.
“Not a true Scotsman, then?” she teased a little breathlessly, having caught sight of his underwear.
He grinned. “No one needs to see balls and cock flying everywhere during a ceilidh.”
She laughed, and the sound pleased him more than he’d expected. The sound abruptly changed to an excited gasp when Lachlan slid his hands under her arse and jerked her to the edge of the desk. Curling his fingers around her silky underwear, he removed them quickly, dropping them to the floor on top of his sporran. Then he checked her readiness, fingers searching gently, slipping inside her with ease at finding her hot and wet. He groaned against her mouth before kissing her, licking at her tongue with his, desperate to deepen the kiss until she was breathless with need.
Robyn’s fingers clawed at his back, trying to hold him closer, and Lachlan answered her silent request, guiding himself to her.
Nudging.
Then pushing in.
He grunted as her tight heat surrounded his tip, and the urge to see her face as he moved inside her overtook all else. Lachlan broke their kiss to watch her.
Robyn fisted his waistcoat in her hands, her inner thighs drawing up tight against his hips. Unfortunately, his kilt covered them both as he thrust the rest of the way into her so he couldn’t watch, but the feel of her was enough to satisfy any man.
Her lips parted on a cry, her head falling back, and his hungry ardor became a desperate craving.
Anchoring her hips in his hands, Lachlan began to thrust. Hard, deep drives punctuated by Robyn’s growing cries. Every sound of pleasure that fell from her lips drove him quicker toward climax. He imagined fucking her naked in his bed, watching himself move inside her, her breasts shaking with every pump into her body.
“I’m close, I’m close,” Robyn panted.
Satisfaction, and not a little smugness, thrummed through him, and he increased the power of his strokes, each one pushing him closer to orgasm.
Then Robyn stiffened, her eyes grew round, and her back arched.
She throbbed around him in powerful waves of climax that along with her loud yell of pleasure was the equivalent of a tight-fisted tug.
His own climax hit him with unexpected force, and he shuddered almost violently as he came.
Chest heaving with the strength of it, Lachlan came down from the orgasm to realize he leaned on Robyn, his forehead resting on her shoulder.
It took him a minute to gather his thoughts.
They’d just had sex on Gordon’s desk.
In a public place.
It was a quick fuck.
Fantastic.
And not nearly enough.
At the slight pressure of Robyn’s hands on his chest, Lachlan reluctantly withdrew from her.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
He watched her warily as he dealt with the condom, finding tissues on Gordon’s desk so he could wrap and flush it. He wasn’t going to leave the thing in the man’s bloody rubbish bin.
Goddamn it. He’d had sex in Gordon’s office like an irresponsible teenager.
And yet he wouldn’t change it for the world.
Would she?
Still not looking at him, Robyn found her underwear and shimmied into them. Lachlan was amazed to find the blood rushing south again at the sight of her long, gorgeous legs. He wanted to kiss every inch of them, make his way upward to her inner thighs until he could bury his head and lick and suck until she begged for more.
Definitely not enough.
“Come back to the castle with me.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
To his shock, Robyn shook her head.
This bloody woman … “We both know that wasn’t enough.”
“I know.” She surprised him. “But no overnight stays. Just sex. Remember.”
And before Lachlan could say anything else, she strutted out of the office as if they’d merely had a little chat.
He grinned at her power play.
Christ, she was fun.
22
Robyn
Out of sheer exhaustion, I finally had a full night’s sleep in the trailer. For the last few nights, I’d barricaded the door and drifted in and out of consciousness but never fully succumbed to the dream plane. Thankfully, between getting ready for the ceilidh, having sex with Lachlan and the event itself, coming to terms with my new relationship with Mac, still trying to uncover the identity of his attacker while also avoiding my mom’s phone calls … let’s just say no wonder I’d been distracted enough to deal with the horrible nights in the trailer.
There hadn’t been any new creepy incidents, but I think it was probably the
