Merritt And Keir Quotes

“My brother and I are both well aware that I have nothing at all to fear from you. On the contrary, it's common knowledge that Scots are trustworthy and honest, and... and simply the most honorable of men."
MacRae's scowl eased slightly. After a moment, he said, "'Tis true that Scots have more honor per man than other lands. We carry the honor of Scotland with us wherever we go."
"Exactly," Merritt said. "No one would doubt my safety in your company. In fact, who would dare utter one offensive word, or threaten any harm to me, if you were there?"
MacRae seemed to warm to the idea. "If someone did," he said vehemently, "I'd skin the bawfaced bastard like a grape and toss him onto a flaming dung heap."
"There, you see?" Merritt exclaimed, beaming at him. "You're the perfect escort.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“I'll be the extra rib that protects your heart."
Keir pulled back abruptly. The motion sent a stab of pain through his ribs, and he swore. Rising to his feet, he sent her a glance of mingled torment and frustration. "You can't, Merry."
The hint of a smile had vanished. "Because you doubt my abilities," she said rather than asked.
Keir shook his head. "Because you are my heart.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“How strange and delicious it was to sit here like this, entwined and filled, while sea breezes rustled through the marram grass on the dunes and quiet waves lapped at the shore.
Eventually Keir lifted his head, his eyes very light in his flushed face. "Put your legs around my waist," he said. He helped to rearrange her limbs until they were pressed together closely in a seated embrace, with his bent knees supporting her. It was surprisingly comfortable, but didn't permit much movement. Instead of thrusting, they were limited to a rocking motion that allowed only an inch or two of his length to withdraw and plunge.
"I don't think this is going to work," Merritt said, her arms looped around his neck.
"Be patient." His mouth sought hers in a warm, flirting kiss. One of his hands searched beneath her skirts to settle on her naked bottom, pulling her forward as they rocked rhythmically.
Feeling awkward, but also having fun, Merritt experimented by bracing her feet on the ground and pushing to help their momentum. The combination of pressure and movement had a stunning effect in her. Every forward pitch brought her weight fully onto him, in deep steady nudges that sent bolts of pure erotic feeling through every nerve pathway. The tension was building, compelling her toward a culmination more intense than anything she'd ever felt. She couldn't drive herself hard onto the heavy shaft, her body taking every inch and clenching frantically on each withdrawal as if trying to keep him inside. Nothing mattered except the rhythmic lunges that pumped more and more pleasure into her.
Keir's breath hissed through his teeth as he felt her electrified response, the cinch of her intimate muscles. His hand gripped over her bottom, pulling her onto him again, again, again, until the relentless unfaltering movement finally catapulted her into a climax that was like losing consciousness, blinding her vision with a shower of white sparks and extinguishing every rational thought.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“You... you were telling me about your diet?"
"Well, mostly I was raised on milk, potatoes, dulse, fish-"
"I beg your pardon, did you say 'dulse'? What is that, exactly?"
"A kind of seaweed," MacRae said. "As a lad, it was my job to go out at low tide before supper and cut handfuls of it from the rocks on shore." He opened a cupboard to view a small store of cooking supplies and utensils. "It goes in soup, or you can eat it raw." He glanced at her over his shoulder, amusement touching his lips as he saw her expression.
"Seaweed is the secret to good health?" Merritt asked dubiously.
"No, milady, that would be whisky. My men and I take a wee dram every day." Seeing her perplexed expression, her continued, "Whisky is the water of life. It warms the blood, keeps the spirits calm, and the heart strong."
"I wish I liked whisky, but I'm afraid it's not to my taste."
MacRae looked appalled. "Was it Scotch whisky?"
"I'm not sure," she said. "Whatever it was, it set my tongue on fire."
"It was no' Scotch, then, but rotgut. Islay whisky starts as hot as the devil's whisper... but then the flavors come through, and it might taste of cinnamon, or peat, or honeycomb fresh from the hive. It could taste of a long-ago walk on a winter's eve... or a kiss you once stole from your sweetheart in the hayloft. Whisky is yesterday's rain, distilled with barley into a vapor that rises like a will-o'-the-wisp, then set to bide its time in casks of good oak." His voice had turned as soft as a curl of smoke. "Someday we'll have a whisky, you and I. We'll toast health to our friends and peace to our foes... and we'll drink to the loves lost to time's perishing, as well as those yet to come.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Now that you've taken charge of me, milady, what's your next command?"
The question was casual, with a hint of friendly teasing. But she was stunned by the reservoir of feeling he'd unlocked in her, so vast she was drowning in it. A feeling of pure longing. And until this moment, she'd never even known it was there.
She tried to think of some clever reply. But the only thing her mind could summon was something impulsive and silly.
Kiss me.
She would never say something so brazen, of course. It would appear desperate or mad, and it would embarrass both of them. And for a business owner to behave in such an unprofessional manner with a customer- well, that didn't bear thinking of.
But as Merritt saw his blank expression, a horrid realization made something inside her plunge.
"Oh, God," she said faintly, her fingers flying to her mouth. "Did
I say that out loud?”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He gripped the sides of her body carefully, keeping her in place as he parted her with his tongue and stroked the sides of the soft furrow. Entranced by the vulnerable shaper of her, he lapped at the edges of softly unfurled lips and tickled them lightly. The delicate flesh was unbelievably hot, almost steaming. He blew a stream of cooling air over it, and relished the sound of her moan. Gently he licked up through the center, a long glide through silk and salty female dampness. She squirmed, her thighs spreading as he explored her with flicks and soft jabs. The slower he went, the more agitated she became. He paused to rest the flat of his tongue on the little pearl of her clitoris to feel its frantic throbbing, and she jerked and struggled to a half-sitting position.
Pausing, Keir lifted his head. "What is it, muirninn?"
Red-faced, gasping, she tried to pull him over her. "Make love to me."
"'Tis what I'm doing," he said, and dove back down.
"No- Keir- I meant now, right now-" She quivered as he chuckled into the dark patch of curls. "What are you laughing at?" she asked.
"At you, my wee impatient bully."
She looked torn between indignation and begging. "But I'm ready," she said plaintively.
Keir tried to enter her with two fingers, but the tight, tender muscle resisted. "You're no' ready," he mocked gently. "Weesht now, and lie back. 'Tis one time you won't be having your way." He nuzzled between her thighs and sank his tongue deep into the heat and honey of her. She jerked at the feel of it, but he made a soothing sound and took more of the intimate flavor he needed, had to have, would never stop wanting. Moving back up to the little bud where all sensation centered, he sucked at it lightly until she was gasping and shaking all over. He tried to work two fingers inside her again, and this time they were accepted, her depths clenching and relaxing repeatedly. As he stroked her with his tongue, he found a rhythm that sent a hard quiver through her. He kept the pace steady and unhurried, making her work for it, making her writhe and arch and beg, and it was even better than he'd imagined, having her so wild beneath him, hearing her sweet little wanton noises.
There was a suspended moment as it all caught up to her... she arched as taut as a drawn bow... caught her breath... and began to shudder endlessly. A deep and primal satisfaction filled him at the sounds of her pleasure, and the sweet pulsing around his fingers. He drew out the feeling, patiently licking every twitch and tremor until at last she subsided and went limp beneath him.
Even then, he couldn't stop. It felt too good. He kept lapping gently, loving the salty, silky wetness of her.
Her weak voice floated down to him... "Oh, God... I don't think... Keir, I can't..."
He nibbled and teased, breathing hotly against the tender core. "Put your legs over my shoulders," he whispered. In a moment, she obeyed. He could feel the trembling in her thighs. A satisfied smile flicked across his mouth, and he pressed her hips upward to a new angle. Soon he'd have her begging again, he thought, and lowered his head with a soft growl of enjoyment.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He was so very gentle, despite his power and size, his fingertips sliding over her in light, beguiling patterns. His focus on her, his awareness of every sound, pulse, shiver, was absolute. His low voice tickled her ear as he murmured how beautiful she was, how good she felt, how hard she made him... and all the while, the thick shaft kept sinking deeper and deeper.
By the time he filled her completely, she was feverish with need. A little sob of anticipation escaped her as he began to move. But every thrust was long and agonizingly slow, withholding the last bit of stimulation she needed. He held her more closely now, his weight on her from pelvis to breasts, while his hips rolled and circled, drawing up new surges of feeling. His mouth lowered to one of her breasts, licking and gently gnawing at the erect nipple. Squirming in frustration, she pushed her hips upward, but he pulled back reflexively.
"No, love. I could hurt you."
"You won't. Please... Keir..."
"Please what?"
"I need more."
His laugh, a smolder of a sound, could have come from the devil himself. "I dinna think you can take more than this, darlin'."
"I can." She strained against him.
"This deep?" he asked, reaching places in her that had never been touched before.
She shook at the pleasure of it. "Oh, God. Yes."
His hands grasped her hips, keeping them angled firmly upward as he pumped in a steady rhythm. Slow in... slow out...
"Faster," she said desperately.
"No' yet," he whispered.
"Please," she begged.
His low, dark voice curled in her ear. "There's a saying we have about whisky: Slow fire makes sweet malt."
She whimpered as he rolled his hips gently, his hardness caressing everywhere inside. The deliberate pace didn't alter, no matter how she tried to drive herself harder onto the rigid length of him. Every time she began to plead for more, his mouth came to hers in another one of those obliterating kisses.
None of this was what she'd expected. Her husband had been a considerate lover, doing everything she liked and giving her exactly what she wanted. Keir, however, was doing the exact opposite. He delighted in tormenting her until she didn't recognize herself in the frantic creature she'd become. He was absolutely wicked, shameless, making love to her in ways that felt unimaginably good, always holding satisfaction just out of reach.
"You give me so much pleasure, darlin'... more than a body can stand. The way you hold me so tight inside... like that... I can feel you pulling at me. Your wee, hungry body wants me deeper, aye? Put your hands on me... anywhere... ah, how I love your sweet touch...”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“His arms wrapped around her, and he rolled easily to his back, taking her with him.
Surprised and flummoxed, Merritt floundered a little as he gently pushed her up and arranged her legs to straddle him. "What are you doing?"
"Putting you to work," he said, "since you're so set on wringing me dry."
She looked at the brawny male beneath her and shook her head slightly.
A brief laugh escaped him as he saw her confusion. "You're a horsewoman, aye?" he asked, and nudged upward with his hips. "Ride."
Genuinely shocked at finding herself in the dominant position, Merritt braced her hands on his chest for balance. Her first tentative movement was rewarded by an encouraging lift of his hips. It sent him even deeper than before, the angle seeming to open something inside her, and she quivered in sensitive reaction. Hot and excited and mortified, she understood what he wanted. As she began to move, she gradually lost her self-consciousness and found a rhythm, her sex rubbing and pumping against his. Every downstroke sent pleasure through her, every sensation connected to the thick length of him.
Panting heavily, Keir reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking the stiff peaks. "Merry, love... I'm going to come soon."
"Yes," she gasped, a tide of heat approaching fast.
"You'll... you'll have to pull away, if you dinna want me to release inside you."
"I want it," she managed to say. "Stay in me. I want to feel you come... Keir..."
He began to pump fast and hard, his hands grasping her hips to keep her in place. His eyes half closed, the passion-drowsed intensity of his gaze pushing her over the edge. The release went on and on, new swells and crests washing over her, having her moaning and shivering in their wake. She felt his hands grip her thighs as he bucked beneath her once, twice, and held fast.
When he subsided, trembling like a racehorse held in check, she lay on top of him with their bodies still fused. Feeling euphoric, she nuzzled the dark golden fleece of his chest.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“I don't mind if you want to keep it. But... why did you?"
Keir shrugged. "'Tis no' my way to take a feeling apart and examine the workings of it."
Merritt tilted her head, regarding him intently. "Did you want it as a trophy, perhaps? To remind you someday of a conquest you once made?"
Keir's smile vanished. He didn't think she really believed that, but the suggestion- the very idea of it- filled him with indignation. "No. I'm no' a brute who would think of you as a thing to be won."
Seeming to realize he was genuinely offended, Merritt said hastily, "Oh, I didn't mean to imply-"
"I may have rough ways, but I know how to be gentle with a woman-"
"Yes. Of course. I shouldn't have put it that way-"
"-and as for needing a reminder-" Keir's indignation deepened into outrage. "Do you think me so shallow-pated I'd need reminding of a woman I once held in my arms? How could I forget you? The most-"
He was interrupted as Merritt took his face in her hands and kissed him again. There was more he'd meant to say, but her mouth was too luscious to resist.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“What were you singing?" Merritt asked. "A lullaby?"
"An old song from the islands, about a selkie." Seeing the word was unfamiliar, he explained, "A changeling, who looks like a seal in the water but takes the form of a man on land. In the song he woos a human maiden, who gives birth to his son. Seven years later, he comes back to take the child." Keir hesitated before adding absently, "But before they leave, the selkie tells the mother he'll give the boy a gold chain to wear on his neck, so she'll recognize him if they meet someday."
"Are she and her son ever reunited?" Merritt asked.
Keir shook his head. "Someone brings her the gold chain one day, and she realizes he's dead. Shot by-" He broke off as he saw Merritt's face begin to crumple. "Och," he exclaimed softly. "No... dinna do that..."
"It's so terribly sad," she said in a watery voice, damning herself for being emotional.
A chuckle broke from Keir as he moved closer. "I won't tell you the rest, then." His hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb wiping an escaping tear. "'Tis only a song, lass. Ah, you've a tender heart." His blue eyes sparkled as he looked down at her. "I warn you, no more tears or I'll have to put you on my shoulder and pat you asleep as I did the bairnie."
It left Merritt temporarily speechless, that he sincerely seemed to believe she would regard that as a threat.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Although Keir would always prefer his island to anywhere else in the world, he had to admit this place had its own magic. There was a softness about the air and the sun, a trance of mist that made everything luminous. Lowering to his haunches, he ran his palm back and forth over the fine golden sand, so different from the caster-sugar grains of the beaches on Islay.
At Merritt's quizzical glance, he dusted his hands and smiled crookedly. "'Tis quiet," he explained. "On the shore near my home, it sings."
"The sand sings?" Merritt asked, perplexed.
"Aye. When you move it with your foot or hand, or the wind blows over it, the sand makes a sound. Some say it's more like a squeak, or a whistle."
"What makes it do that?"
"'Tis pure quartz, and the grains are all the same size. A scientist could explain it. But I'd rather call it magic."
"Do you believe in magic?"
Keir stood and smiled into her upturned face. "No, but I like the wonderments of life. Like the ghost fire that shines on a ship's mast at storm's end, or the way a bird's instinct leads him to the wintering grounds each year. I enjoy such things better for no' understanding them."
"Wonderments," Merritt repeated, seeming to relish the word.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He bent to kiss her stomach, so low that his chin brushed the triangle of curls. The tip of his tongue touched her skin, painting a delicate pattern. Her hips undulated, trying in vain to coax him lower, her entire body begging, Please down there down there. She felt as helpless as a jointed doll.
Different parts of her were quivering, tensing, trembling, while her insides closed frantically on emptiness.
He changed their positions with a quiet grunt of discomfort, until they were both lying on their sides, his head toward her feet. She felt him pull her top leg up and across, and then he relaxed with what sounded like a purr. As she felt him breathing between her thighs, she moaned, panted, licked her dry lips, wanting to say his name but afraid she might scream it. She tensed at the touch of his fingers, stroking lightly across the wet entrance of her body.
All her consciousness focused on what he was doing, the fingertip that dipped very slightly into the pulsing cove. A teasing finger slid all the way inside and began to thrust in the slowest, gentlest rhythm possible, while her intimate muscles clenched and squeezed at the invasion, and her belly writhed. His breath rushed against the hard, tender bud of her clitoris in feathery tickles. It was heaven. It was torture. She wanted to kill him. He was the meanest, wickedest man who'd ever lived, the devil himself, and she would have told him so if she'd had the breath to spare.
He added another finger, and a deep glow began at her core. The feeling spread through every limb and swept upward, until it burned in her face and throat, even at the lobes of her ears. It was beneath her arms, between her toes, at the backs of her knees, a radiant heat that kept climbing. His fingers curved gently inside and held her like that, and then, finally, she felt his mouth at her sex, his tongue stroking in catlike laps. It sent her into a climax unlike anything she'd ever felt, pure ecstasy without a precise beginning or end, a long open spasm that went on and on.
A new surge of wetness emerged when his fingers finally withdrew. His tongue was strong and eager as he hunted for the taste of her, making her writhe. Her head came to rest close to his groin, her cheek brushing the satiny skin of his aroused flesh. Languidly she rubbed her parted lips along the rigid length, making him jolt as if he'd received an electric shock.
Encouraged by his response, she took hold of the shaft with one hand and drew her tongue along it. When she reached the tip, she fastened her lips over the silkiness and salt taste, and sucked lightly. He groaned between her thighs. With his fingers, he spread her furrow wider, and nibbled at the taut, full center, flicked at it. She moaned, vibrating around the head of his shaft.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“As she sat implanted on that hard, unyielding flesh and felt its altering pressures inside with each back-and-forth sway, the tension began again. She started to move with him, her breath hastening with renewed effort. He braced one hand on the ground and slid the other low on her backside, pulling her into each thrust. She jerked as she felt one of his fingers accidentally slip into the crevice between the halves of her bottom. A guttural sound escaped his lips as her body clenched tightly around his shaft. The finger teased deeper, and she responded with a little squeal of protest, clamping down hard on him again. Keir groaned in pleasure and kept thrusting, while she yelped and writhed to avoid that impudently delving, stroking finger, her muscles squeezing over and over until she stiffened with a climax that stole her breath away. Somewhere in the white-hot shudders, she was aware of Keir finding his own release, his entire body turning to iron beneath hers.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“I wasn't shocked by what they were doing as much as I was by Merritt's recklessness. Taking a man into her bed in broad daylight? It's not at all like her. She's behaving as if scandal can't touch her, and she knows better than that."
"So does Keir. But they’re both moonstruck. You remember how it is in the beginning.”
She grimaced. “Yes, a state of derangement with chapped lips." Folding her arms across her chest, she heaved a sigh. "Tell me about this young man. Is he a silk purse or a sow's ear?"
"He's pure gold. A big, fearless lad... engaging and quick-witted. Admittedly, the manners are a bit rustic, and I can't speak as to hygiene: so far, grooming him has been a collective effort. But all in all, a fine young man."
"And how is he with Merritt?"
Sebastian hesitated before replying, "No one outside a relationship can ever know its inner workings. But from what I've seen, it has the makings of something durable. They talk easily. They pull together in adversity. Many marriages have started with far less, including mine.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“She watched with amusement as Wallace paced restlessly around the overloaded settee, obviously trying to calculate how he too could sit there.
"Wallace," Keir said dryly, "I dinna know where you think you'll find a blessed inch of empty space."
The terrier persisted, however, hopping up near their feet and painstakingly crawling over their bodies.
"Wallace will come to London with us, of course," Merritt said, reaching out swiftly to steady the dog as he wobbled.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Well, naturally. Keir is descended from my line. Our virility is unmatched."
Westcliff tried to look severe. "You realize, Kingston, that my first grandchild has been sired by your illegitimate offspring."
"Yes, yes, who cares about legitimacy. This child will be magnificent. With my looks and your brains..."
"It could have my looks and your brains," Westcliff pointed out.
"Don't be such a pessimist. Bring the brandy bottle over here, and we'll start making plans."
And the two old friends grinned at each other as they clinked their glasses.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“MacRae drew closer and took her head in his hands. His thumbs caressed the edge of her jaw, the light rasp of calluses causing gooseflesh to rise everywhere. Holy Moses, he was really going to do it. She was about to be kissed by a stranger.
Too late to make light of anything now. What have I done? She stared up at him with wide eyes, the dissonant notes of nerves and tension joining in a long, sweet chord of desire.
The crescents of his lashes, dark with gold tips, lowered slightly as he looked down at her. There was no place to hide from that piercing gaze. She felt so terribly exposed, every bit as naked as he'd been a few minutes ago.
His head bent, and his mouth found hers with a pressure as soft as snowfall.
She'd thought he might be rough or impatient, maybe a bit clumsy... she'd expected anything but the gently teasing caress that coaxed her lips apart before she was even aware of it. He tasted her with the tip of his tongue, a sensation that went down to her knees and weakened them. She felt herself list like a ship unable to right itself, but he gathered her firmly against him, his supportive arms closing around her. The tender focus on her mouth deepened until it had gone on longer than any kiss in her life, and still she wanted more.
He kissed her as if it were not the first time but the last, as if the world were about to end, and every second was worth a lifetime. He feasted on her with the craving of years. Blindly she caught at his mouth with hers, while her fingers tangled in his hair. The textures of him- plush velvet, rough bristle, wet silk- stimulated her beyond bearing. She'd never known desire like this, a swoon that kept deepening into more and more exquisite feeling.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“She broke off as her helpful directions were extinguished by the sweet, hot shock of his mouth on hers.
It was not the kiss a friend would give. It was heat and demand, fused in a raw sensuality that demolished her balance. Her gloved hands slid up to grip his broad shoulders. The kiss went on and on, exploring deliciously, wringing sensation from her mouth. One of his hands wandered over here back, stroking her spine into a pleasured arch. Her breasts felt full and tender, and she longed for him to touch them... kiss them... oh, God, she'd lost her mind.
She felt how hard he was all around her, every muscle taut. His breath rode roughshod on every powerful rise and fall of his chest. Reaching down, he gripped her hips to pull them high against an unmistakably rigid, swollen shape. She thought of how it would feel to lie spread beneath him, with all that hardness inside her, and a faint moan slipped from her throat.
MacRae licked at the sound as if he could taste it, and broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. Their panting breaths mingled.
It was hard to speak with him still clasping her hips against his. Every part of her was throbbing.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“A folded slip of paper fell from the wallet, and she began to tuck it back in. "We'll keep all your things right here, and..." Her voice faded as she saw the imprint of typed letters on the parchment.
It was a carefully torn strip of the page she had typed at the office.

Mr. Keir MacRae Lady Merritt Sterling

"Oh," Merritt heard herself whisper, while her heartbeats went scattering like pearls from a broken necklace. It was only a scrap of paper and ink... but she understood what it meant.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“You're a beautiful man," she said a bit bashfully.
Her touch sent a thrill of pleasure through him. He had to steel every muscle to keep from arching against her hand. It was indecent, how much he wanted her.
In a hushed voice he replied, "'Tis glad I am you find me so, darlin'. But there's nothing in the world half so braw and lovely as you."
"Braw?"
"Something very fine. You're braw like sunlight on the sea, or a poem set to music.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“I'm only a little nervous, that's all."
Keir was almost shocked by the rush of tenderness he felt. “No, dinna be nervous with me.” He took her against him, nestling her to his chest. “I would never harm you. You’re safer in my arms than anywhere outside them." He caressed her shining dark hair, and ran his fingertips over her cheek and neat curve of her ear. Her skin gleamed like a pearl in the light.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“You're..." He paused, staring at her as if mesmerized. The hand beneath her arm had slipped a bit lower, his long thumb beginning to stroke the side of her breast in a caress he didn't seem to be aware of. "You're as bonnie as a wild rose," he said absently. Merritt shivered beneath the gently erotic touch, the tip of her breast gathering into a hard peak.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“His weight lifted, and his hand reached between her thighs, stroking and opening her. She felt a nudge, an adjustment as he aligned himself, then steady pressure at her entrance. He was so hard, his flesh like steel, but he was gentle and controlled, taking his time. She gasped as her muscles gave way and the broad tip pushed inside, stretching her, keeping her open. He held still, his hands stroking her hips and bottom.
All her nerves tingled and sparked in anticipation, knowing how good it was going to be. She pressed back against him, and he sheathed himself in a slow, wet plunge, all the way inside, deeper than she'd ever been filled before. He went in at just the right angle, pressing where she most wanted. Her body gripped him, or tried to, except the invasion was so thick, her muscles only fluttered and throbbed instead of clenching down. She felt almost as if she were at the brink of release. And to her astonishment... she was. She was about to tip over into a sea of mind-dissolving pleasure.
"Wait," she heard Keir say through the clamor of her heartbeat. His hands were on her hips, keeping her close and tight. For some reason it aroused her intolerably, knowing he was trying to stop her from climaxing. She tried to drive herself back on the hard shaft inside her, unable to get enough of its even though she was stretched to the limit. Raising up on her forearms, she writhed and pushed desperately against him.
Keir's husky laugh caressed her ears as he leaned over her. He held her hips snugly against his, allowing only a sense of motion, a subtle grinding that wasn't nearly enough. Very gently, he closed his teeth on the side of her neck and soothed it with his tongue. "Tell me how good it feels," he whispered.
Merritt fought for the breath to reply. "It feels too good. I want to come... I want to spend... oh, please, Keir..."
"Spend," he repeated, and smiled against her shoulder. "I like that word for it." He withdrew just an inch, and rolled his hips upward. "Aye, I want your pleasure. Spend it all on me."
She sobbed and squirmed, able to feel the motion of him deep in her belly, but it wasn't enough. "Harder. Please."
The rhythmic drives grew longer, more aggressive. "No one else could ever feel this good to me," he said. "No other woman in the world. Only you." He reached beneath her to cup the round weights of her breasts, and began to pinch and tug at her nipples. Not sharply but not softly, the little flashes of discomfort somehow magnifying her pleasure. His hand slid down her front and between her thighs, finding the taut peak of her sex. The gently massaging fingers, the steady pumping, set off an explosion of pleasure that spread to every part of her body and kept unfolding and renewing itself. The release was so powerful, it left her dazed and too weak to move. She was only vaguely aware of Keir's climax, the quiet growl he pressed against her skin, the rough shudders that ran though him.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He reached down between their bodies, and she felt the smooth head of his shaft stroke up and down between her thighs, parting her dampening flesh, while the silky-coarse hair of his chest teased her breasts, and suddenly nothing in the world mattered except having this feeling go on. She wanted his naked body forever against hers, his scent and weight, the way he flexed and moved.
Holding on to his shoulders, she gave a little satisfied moan as began to enter her, gently working inside that pliant opening, stretching her slowly.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He drew in a rough breath as he felt her grasp the erect shaft and guide him into place. "Aye," he said gruffly, "feel that... 'tis all for you. Come take your pleasure of me."
He steadied her hips as she sank down on him. She concentrated on relaxing to let him in, yielding to the thick, heavy glide of him inside her. When she'd taken all she could, she paused, trembling, her face level with his. She felt pulses and throbs, sensation and echos of sensation, all centered in that naked, concealed place where they were joined.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Her hands groped around his neck, her fingers lacing through the thick shorn locks at the back of his head. The hard, clean contours of Keir's face rubbed against hers, a different feeling than the coarse tickle of his beard. But the mouth was the same, full and erotic, searingly hot. He consumed her slowly, searching with his tongue, licking deep into each kiss. Wild quivers of pleasure went through her, weakening her knees until she had to lean against him to stay upright. As her head tilted back, a forgotten tear slid from the outer corner of her eye to the edge of her hairline. His lips followed the salty track, absorbing the taste.
Keir cradled her cheek in his hand, his shaken whisper falling hotly against her mouth. "Merry, love... my heart's gleam, drop of my dearest blood... you should have told me."
Merritt heard her own weak reply as if from a distance. "I thought... in some part of your mind... you might have wanted to forget."
"No." Keir crushed her close, nuzzling her hard against her hair and disheveling the pinned-up coils. "Never, love. The memory slipped out of reach for a moment, is all." His hand coasted slowly up and down her spine. "I'm so damned sorry for the way I've been trying to keep you at a distance. I dinna know you were already inside my heart." He paused before adding wryly, "Mind, I did have to jump from a three-story window, with little to break the fall but my own hard head." Taking one of her hands, he pressed her palm over his pounding heartbeat. "But you were still in here. Your name is carved so deep, a million years could no' erase it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Keir," she managed to say, "we must be careful not to confuse the physical act with deeper feelings."
He drew back to look down at her with a frown. "I dinna mean when we fooked."
Merritt flinched as if he'd just dashed cold water in her face. "For heaven's sake, please don't put it that way."
His brows lifted slightly at her vehemence. "How should I say it, then?"
After sorting through various possibilities, she suggested, "Sleeping together."
Keir looked sardonic. "Neither of us slept a wink."
"Then... 'when we had relations.'"
He snorted, obviously loathing that suggestion. "My word means the same thing, and 'tis shorter.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“But what's to be done now?"
We’ll come to the right decision, you and I. Later. For now . . . let’s go to bed.”
Her eyes flew open. She gave him a dumbfounded look. “Here? Now?”
“My arms ache to hold you,” he said. “No’ just for a little while. For a long time.”
“Oh, I don’t think . . .” Floundering, Merritt lowered her forehead to his shoulder. “It wouldn’t solve any problems.”
He made a sound of amusement in his throat. “It would solve at least one of mine.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“He caught her wrist and looked at her with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Lass, if you're after calming me by stroking me with your wee hand... 'tis having the opposite effect. You'd better stop if you dinna want to be ravished right here on the beach."
Merritt crinkled her nose and laughed. "You wouldn't do that," she said. "Not out in the open."
Keir dragged her hand down his body to the hard, aroused ridge behind the front placket of his trousers. "There's something you need to learn about Scotsmen," he said. "We never back down from a challenge.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Let's no' make this langsome, MacTaggart. Lady Merritt is weary, and as you know, I'm no' one to stand on ceremony."
"'Tis a haisty affair, aye?" the sheriff observed, some of his good cheer fading as he looked around the room. "No flowers? No candles?"
"No, and also no ring," Keir informed him. "Let us say our pledge, give us the certificate, and we'll have done with it in time for supper."
MacTaggart clearly didn't appreciate the younger man's cavalier attitude. "You'll be having no signed paper until I make certain 'tis done legal," he said, squaring his shoulders. "First... do ye ken there's a fine if you've no' posted banns?"
"'Tis no' a church wedding," Keir said.
"The law says without the banns, 'tis a fine of fifty pounds." As Keir gave him an outraged glance, the sheriff added firmly, "No exceptions."
"What if I give you a bottle of whisky?" Keir asked.
"Fine is waived," MacTaggart said promptly. "Now, then... do the rest of you agree to stand as witnesses?"
Ethan and the Slorachs all nodded.
"I'll start, then," Keir said briskly, and took Merritt's hand. "I, Keir MacRae, do swear that I--"
"No' yet," the sheriff interrupted, now scowling. "'Tis my obligation to ask a few questions first."
"MacTaggart, so help me---" Keir began in annoyance, but Merritt squeezed his hand gently. He heaved a sigh and clamped his mouth shut.
The sheriff resumed with great dignity. "Are the both of you agreeable to be wed?"
"Aye," Keir said acidly.
"Yes," Merritt replied.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise