"Are you sure?" Thorburn asked. "I could still arrange for you to share Isobel's room."

Teárlag reached under his kilt to grasp his meaty cock, felt it growing in her hand.

"I've wanted to feel this inside me again ever since the first time. You gave me so much pleasure, Thorburn. More than I've ever known. I'm a grown woman who knows what she wants. I want you. Don't make me beg."

He picked her up, nudged his door open with his shoulder and kicked it closed behind him.

"You handle me like that, it's me who'll be begging," he whispered throatily, burying his lips in the arch of her...