Birthright

When she heard the noise, her breath quickened with the excitement of knowing how hot she could make the man feel, and of hearing it played out, owned instead of subdued. Cian’s mouth muffled the answering sound, a note that oscillated between moan and whimper. But there wasn’t any hiding the sharpness of fingernails that stretched down his back and clawed upward, carving pink tracks in the flesh, or the warm, damp evidence of her arousal.

Rhiannon interrupted the kiss. She dragged her mouth to his ear. “Put me down,” she said. “Just for a minute.”