Текст книги "My notorious highlander"

Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

A knock sounded at the door.

"Who is it?" Jessie asked.

"'Tis me, Mariana, m'lady. I had a question about supper."

"I'll be right out."

"We'll continue this discussion later," Torrin said in a hushed tone so the maid wouldn't hear.

"'Haps." Jessie gave him a warning look, but he wanted naught more than to kiss her and carry her to that bed and prove to her she was not barren. But this was a tricky situation he'd never imagined before.

What if she truly was barren? Would he marry her anyway and give up the chance of producing an heir?

Chapter Seven

Torrin stood on the castle's battlements overlooking the sea, his mind consumed by what he'd learned earlier. The bleak sky with the low-hanging gray clouds and cool, damp air that followed the storm didn't help his mood. He glanced aside when Iain came up the steps.

"What's wrong with you?" his friend asked.

Torrin was unsure if he wanted to reveal how he felt at the moment.

"Your frown tells me the lass is proving impossible to seduce." Iain grinned.

"She is a wee bit stubborn, but so am I."

"'Tis true. Once you set your mind to something, you never give up until you have it."

Torrin nodded, for he meant to have her. "I'll tell you something if you promise not to tell her or anyone about it."

Iain sobered and leaned an arm against the shoulder-high merlon of the stone battlements. "Of course. When have I ever been a gossip?"

Torrin drew in a deep breath of the cool salt air. "She thinks she is barren and refuses to marry me because she knows I need an heir."

"Damnation," Iain muttered, frowning. "She thinks this because of the trial marriage to MacBain?"

"Aye. They were intimate for three months and no bairn resulted, so MacBain abandoned her for someone else."

"What if 'tis true? You cannot deny that you need an heir."

"Indeed. The clan elders may have my head if I knowingly marry a barren lady. But at the moment, I want her more than an heir."

"Saints! You've gone and fallen in love with her, as I feared." Iain gave an amused smirk.

Torrin shrugged, but deep down he was certain his friend was right. "I know not. I have never felt this way before."

"I have," Iain admitted, though he did not appear comfortable doing so.

"You? In love?"

"Aye, she was a lovely lady, but she loved someone else and went off to marry him instead. End of story." Iain shrugged.

"When was this?"

"Years ago. It amounts to naught now. I've almost forgotten her, but at the time, 'twas hellishly hard to give her up."

"I'm surprised you've never told me about this before. We've known each other since we were lads."

"Aye, but there were times we didn't see each other for many months at a time. Besides, 'tis not something a man likes to talk about."

"You're right." Torrin sucked in a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to clear his head. "I know not what to do."

"The answer will come to you, I'm certain. 'Haps in the middle of the night. Or in the morn."

Torrin nodded as he gazed down at the beach where they'd spent several enjoyable moments talking and shooting the bow. And wrestling. That had been his favorite part, aside from the kiss. He relished anything that put him into physical contact with her.

"Did you at least steal a kiss?" Iain asked.

Torrin's gaze darted to his. He wasn't the type to brag or share too much of his exploits.

"Ah, you did, aye?" Iain guessed. "I trust the kiss measured up to your expectations?"

"Surpassed them by miles." That kiss was the single best thing he'd yet experienced in his life. When he imagined taking her to his bed, he could scarce breathe. He was certain the physical pleasure would be astonishing, but the experience would be about far more than that for him. 'Twas as Iain had said—he was falling for her. He only hoped she would feel the same way. If that kiss was any indication, she was strongly attracted to him. That was a start. Now, he but needed to show her how he felt about her, prove himself trustworthy and convince her to not worry about the future.

"I'd rather not think about the problems anymore," Torrin said. "I just want to… spend time with her."

"Aye. 'Tis what you should do, then," Iain said.

Torrin wanted to make her forget all about this hindrance, if that's what it truly was. It could be a lot of worry for naught. He wanted to learn everything about her. And, aye, he had to admit he wanted to explore every inch of her body and make love to her for hours. After that kiss, 'twas clear to him they could set the bed sheets afire.

He wanted to make her smile and laugh and sigh and cry out his name in pleasure.

"I have to figure out how to make her forget her troubles and have some fun," Torrin said.

Iain grinned. "'Tis the best solution I've ever heard."

"I have an idea for a gift that might cheer her up."

***

"I need for you lads to do something for me," Torrin said in a low voice to three of his men, Sim, Luag and Gordon, in the courtyard that evening.

"Aye, Chief," Sim responded, his dark eyes glinting curiously in the dim glow of the sunset.

"Tell no one of your assignment," Torrin warned them.

They nodded in a very solemn manner.

Torrin lowered his voice even more. "One of my distant cousins in Scourie raises deerhound pups. His name is Angus MacLeod. I want you to go get one for me. A healthy pup with a lot of gumption." He held out his hand, filled with silver coins.

Luag quirked his brows as if Torrin had gone daft, but accepted the money.

"'Twill be a gift for the lady. She lost her beloved dog not long ago."

"Ah." Luag nodded as did the other two.

He hoped the pup would make her smile. She didn't smile nearly often enough.

"Also, while you're out, make sure MacBain and his men haven't returned. You may run into Struan, Fionn, and the MacKay guards who escorted them south. You can leave in the morn after breaking your fast. If anyone asks, you're simply going to look for your clansmen. I want the pup to be a surprise for her."

The three smiled and nodded their agreement. They were well aware that Torrin was trying to convince Jessie to marry him. He hoped this would work to soften her up a bit more. If not, he knew not what he would do next.

***

The following afternoon, Torrin walked along the battlements, his gaze scanning over Balnakeil Bay, the beach, and the sand dunes leading out to the headland. No one was about. He was disappointed to see that Jessie was not sitting on the beach today. He had scarcely seen glimpses of her since their serious discussion yesterday. She was well and truly avoiding him now.

Although Torrin liked Dirk MacKay just fine, he hoped the man didn't return soon. He needed time to grow closer to Jessie first. Dirk would wonder what in blazes Torrin was doing, staying this long. His excuse for now was that he was protecting Jessie in the event MacBain returned, wanting revenge. Once Dirk, Keegan, and the rest of them showed up, he would no longer have an excuse to stay for they could protect Jessie. Of course, Dirk had left Erskine and a garrison to protect both her and Dunnakeil, but Torrin wanted to help out.

His stay here wasn't just about convincing Jessie to marry him anymore. He was feeling something he'd never felt before. He didn't know what he would've done if MacBain had spirited her away and married her. Probably killed the whoreson.

But he didn't want to kill anyone. He much preferred that MacBain stay far away.

Torrin paced along the battlements to the opposite side of the castle where he gazed out over the green hills dotted with gray rocks and black-faced sheep. He remembered his last conversation with Jessie. It had been beyond serious, which had obviously caused her anxiety and worry about her future. What they needed was to simply relax and enjoy themselves. Life did not have to be solemn all the time.

He'd reveled in the wrestling match and the archery lessons he'd given her the day before, but most of all, he'd relished the kiss. 'Haps he shouldn't have kissed her in the kirk, but 'twas his only opportunity and he didn't want to pass it up.

'Haps that bastard MacBain had not bedded her very many times within those three months. Sometimes many months or a year passed before a woman was with child. Dirk and his wife, Isobel, had been married seven months and she didn't appear to be with child when they'd stopped by Munrick a few weeks ago.

Although he wanted children, Torrin would still marry Jessie even if she was barren. He wouldn't tell her that. Not now, anyway. She wouldn't accept his decision. She would think he was being impulsive or that mayhap he would change his mind later and send her away. But the truth was he was well and truly smitten with her.

And, nay, he would not change his mind later. He had never felt the way he did now about a woman. He had not lost interest in her during the seven months since he'd met her. In fact, his interest had only grown and deepened from instant physical attraction to something powerful he'd never experienced before.

He frowned down at the ground far below and the woman dashing away from the castle. Was that Jessie? Her head was covered, hiding her hair, and she faced away from him. But the woman was tall and slim, and she moved exactly like Jessie. She must have slipped past the guards and out the postern gate, and was now headed away from castle, in the opposite direction from the bay. Where was she going? She normally walked on the beach, but she was not headed that way now. Nor was she walking at a leisurely pace. Nay, she was practically running. When she glanced back over her shoulder once, a lock of her copper hair gleamed in the sunlight, and he got a glimpse of half her face. Aha, 'twas indeed Jessie. Why was she slipping away?

Trying to escape him? Or had something happened?

Torrin rushed down several sets of winding steps until he reached the bailey. Not having a key to the postern gate, he asked the guards to open the main portcullis for him. They also gave him his basket-hilt broadsword, for he might need it to protect Jessie.

Once outside the walls, Torrin ran toward the east. She had already disappeared from sight, difficult in this flat landscape near the shore, but gorse bushes grew here and there in small groves. Once he passed a group of them, he saw her plaid-covered head disappear behind another cluster of bushes. He was determined to catch up to her without her seeing him. She wasn't traveling toward the village, and he needed to find out what she was up to.

They must have walked for more than a mile when he lost sight of her. Muttering curses, he glanced this way and that, then ran forward. The rocky shore and a drop off lay ahead. Had she gone in that direction? Saints! Had she fallen off the cliff?

His heart rate soaring toward the sky, he quickened his pace.

Once at the edge, he saw it wasn't a cliff, but simply a steep bank of sand about thirty feet high. Beyond it was a small golden sand beach with black boulders protruding here and there from the sand. He lay down and belly-crawled to the edge so she wouldn't notice him. Aye, indeed, she was descending a rock and sand path along the edge of the bank. What in blazes was she doing here?

He scooted sideways and hid himself better behind a clump of thistles. He was wicked for spying on her, but he had to protect her. Not that he truly expected anyone to be all the way out here, a mile or more from the village and further than that from the castle.

She strolled along the wee beautiful beach, which was enclosed and cut off from other areas of the coast. Cliffs jutted out on each side, making it very secluded. He could understand why she loved this place. 'Twas one of the loveliest spots he had yet seen. To add to its appeal, a slight breeze blew in off the sea, but 'twas a warm summer day.

Jessie perched on one of the boulders and gazed out to sea. Was she daydreaming? He hoped she was thinking of him.

Moments later, she got to her feet and walked further along the shore, her gaze searching the tops of the cliffs and sand bank. He ducked. Had she seen him or sensed his presence? He kept his head down and hoped she didn't notice his plaid.

She hastened to the far end of the strip of sand, which was more concealed behind the large rocks. Though she disappeared from sight, he hesitated to crawl closer to the edge for fear she might spot him.

She appeared again, wearing only her white smock. Hiking it to her knees, she ran into the water.

"Saints," he hissed. She was going swimming? He chuckled, but forced himself to be quiet. Not that she could hear him over the waves crashing into the boulders below. What an adventurous spirit she had. It only made him fall harder for her.

How lovely she looked, her fiery red hair streaming down her back as she waded deeper into the water reflecting the blue sky. She disappeared behind a black boulder.

A swim would be perfect right now. While she was hidden from view, he took the opportunity to slip down the bank along the narrow trail she had used earlier. He hastily removed all his clothing and left it on the dry sand behind a rock, then crept between the boulders. The sun-warmed, wet sand felt good against his bare feet. Then the edges of the cold surf washed over his toes. He often took swims in Loch Assynt, so he was accustomed to cold water. It appeared Jessie was, too.

He waded into the water and peered around the last boulder. When her back was turned, he slid beneath the water and swam underneath a wave. When he emerged twenty feet out, she happened to be facing him. Her eyes wide, she screamed and swam toward the shore.

"Jessie! 'Tis only me," he called.

But she didn't listen; she kept moving quickly toward the beach. Once the water was shallow enough, she ran, probably difficult wearing that smock. She tugged its hampering weight from around her ankles and quickened her steps. He wished she would remove the blasted garment.

He followed her, splashing through the shallow surf.

"Let's go back in," he called over the roar of the waves.

She stopped and turned to face him, her wide-eyed gaze dropping to his groin. She sucked in a sharp breath and covered her eyes. "Put on some clothes, MacLeod!"

Halting ten feet away, he grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "'Twould be much better if you'd simply remove yours." Although he did appreciate this view. Her wet smock had become more transparent, and her hard, rose-colored nipples showed through the material. But he wasn't going to tell her that. Sexual heat rushed over him despite the cool breeze blowing over his bare, wet skin.

"Are you mad?" She faced the other direction, grabbed her arisaid from the stone and attempted to belt the plaid about her waist.

"I think you are the one who is mad, wearing a drenched smock beneath your other dry clothing. Makes no sense. You should remove it all and lay it on the rocks to dry."

"You followed me!" she accused, refusing to look at him.

"Aye. I had to protect you, after all. MacBain could return." Although he doubted the bastard could return this soon. Torrin's two men and the MacKays who had escorted the MacBains south had not returned yet.

"I need no protection."

He shook his head at her stubbornness. "You didn't mind that I came to your rescue last time."

"Leave me be." Carrying her shoes and three sheathed knives, she strode away from him along the beach, dodging the massive black boulders which protruded from the sand, but he followed. She glanced back, catching his eye, then started running. Abruptly, she tumbled onto the ground with a short shriek.

"Saints! Are you hurt?" He knelt by her, one knee drawn up to conceal his tarse, so she would at least face him.

She turned to her back and leaned up on her elbows. "My foot! I stepped on something sharp."

"Och. Let me see." He lifted one of her bare, sand-covered feet. 'Twas a long, slim and elegant foot, much like the rest of her body.

She sat up, glaring at him. "The other one."

"Ah." He examined her other foot but saw no sign of blood. "Where does it hurt?"

"My heel."

"I see no injury to it. I think you'll live."

She narrowed her eyes, her gaze skittering over his naked chest, then looked skyward. "Where are your clothes?"

"Over there somewhere, but it's much nicer without them today. You should try it. The sun is warm. How often have you gone naked outside?"

"Never." She lowered her voice. "Well, except when I swim sometimes."

"Indeed? You swim naked?"

Her blush deepened. "A couple of times."

"I'm shocked, m'lady," he teased with a smile. Saints, how he loved the image in his head of her swimming naked like a goddess of the sea. "You are a wild and brave lass, are you not?"

She shrugged. "Some would say wayward."

"I like a wayward lady."

At the moment, the way he knelt, his leg hid his shaft, but the problem was it was rapidly rising to its full height. She made him hard so quickly, so easily, every time he was in her presence.

"Don't give me that look, MacLeod," she said firmly.

"What look?"

She pointed at his eyes. "That one."

Could she see the raw need and desire written upon his face? He hoped so. She'd driven him mad for the past several days. "I can't help it," he said in a low tone. "I hunger for you."

Jessie swallowed hard as she held Torrin's dark, passionate gaze. In the bright sunlight, his lashes halfway hid his deep green eyes, but 'twas clear they reflected profound sensuality. His sculpted muscles were lean and elegant. He appeared iron-strong but not too bulky.

She had seen his shaft moments ago, just for a trice, when he'd emerged from the water, before she'd slammed her eyes closed. She could not see that part of his anatomy now, unless she moved closer to him. Which she was definitely not going to do. What gall he had to gallivant naked in front of her.

At the moment, his eyes bewitched her and she did not want to look away. Besides, his body aroused her. She glanced down at his chest and the defined muscles there. The rippled ridges of his abdomen intrigued her. She had only seen glimpses of naked men or lads before, some, like MacBain, in half darkness. But observing Torrin now, in the daylight, so close… he was a divine work of art. She found herself wishing she could touch him, run her fingers over those muscles and see how hard they were.

He was like a god of the sea who had just emerged from the depths. His dark, wet hair brushed his broad shoulders.

His eyes turning predatory, he slowly moved closer, crawled along beside her and captured her mouth. Giving up the fight with herself, she lay back on the warm sand and slid her hands around his neck into his cool wet hair. He tasted salty, like the sea, and his tongue delved boldly into her mouth. Her body quickened as if awakening from a long sleep to feel the bright sunlight burning into her… and Torrin burning into her.

Aligning his body with hers, he slid his hand around her derriere and dragged her tight against him. Oh, saints! He was hard. She knew what this was all about; she'd lain several times with MacBain during their trial marriage, but never had she been ravenous for him as she now was for Torrin.

One of his bare legs slid between hers and he lay half on top of her. His mouth and body felt divine on hers as if something about the two of them was perfectly harmonized.

His kisses were seduction itself. Not too forceful, but still highly confident, his tongue flicking against hers, teasing her. He knew what he was doing, and he was so good at it.

Before she knew it, her belt was unclasped and her arisaid loose beneath her like a blanket upon the sand. His thumb grazed lightly over her nipple through the wet smock. She stifled a moan at the flash of white-hot pleasure that blasted through her. With every kiss, she wanted another, deeper kiss. She wanted him to devour her, consume her, and burn her up with his passion.

His erection felt large against her lower belly. Before she realized what she was doing, she brushed her hand down the hard, rippled muscles of his abdomen, and clasped his hot, rigid flesh. She gasped… and he growled. With a dark, feral look in his eyes, he broke the kiss and pulled back an inch. He clenched his teeth and waited, daring her, challenging her with his midnight gaze.

But she didn't remove her hand. She stroked down his stone-hard shaft, savoring the sleek feel of his skin.

In a flash, he was fully over her, yanking her smock upwards. Abruptly, he halted, breathing hard, his forehead against her. "Damnation, Jessie," he growled. "Is this what you want?"

Her heart pounded against her throat so hard she couldn't speak.

"Tell me what you want." He lifted his head and scrutinized her face.

"Aye," she whispered, almost ashamed of her weakness. She was never weak. She always spoke her mind and did it with firm conviction.

"Aye, what?" he demanded.

"I want…" She searched his eyes. Could she trust him? Though she was unsure of most everything else, she knew without doubt that she wanted him in a most carnal and physical way.

He muttered a curse. "You're driving me mad," he warned. "Tell me before I die of wanting you."

"You. I want you, too," she said, her voice and hands shaking. Her body's need for him overrode all else. 'Twas all she could think of.

He closed his eyes and released a short breath. When his eyes met hers again, something about his expression had softened, but also intensified. "Are you certain?"

She had never seen such passion in anyone's eyes before. So much, she was lost for a moment. "Aye."

"You want me to take you, right here, on the sand?"

She suddenly remembered they were outside in broad daylight. Glancing around, she noticed they lay between two giant boulders, which shielded them from most of the cliffs and high banks surrounding the bay.

"Aye." And she wished he'd be quick about it. With every moment that passed, something inside her ached ever more strongly. With each beat of her heart, need drummed more fiercely inside her.

He sucked in a deep breath and slowly pushed her smock up her thighs, then sat back on his heels. Glancing down, she couldn't believe how his impressive shaft stood proud and upright. Aye, she wanted him. And she knew with certainty she'd never wanted MacBain in such a powerful way.

Torrin hissed a curse; he was observing her most private parts just as she was his. Her first instinct was to close her legs, but she couldn't. He was sitting between them. But more importantly, she wasn't afraid of him, nor ashamed.

He moved over her again, his elbow on the ground by her head. He gave her a fiercely erotic kiss while the tip of his shaft brushed against her most intimate spot.

"Aye," she whispered, widening her legs. He moaned, nudging against her, into her. She drew in a breath and held it.

"Breathe, Jessie," he whispered.

"I am." Her voice was uneven.

"Look into my eyes."

She did, unable to believe the depth of emotion she saw there.

With a gentle but persistent thrust of his hips, he pushed deeper. A stitch of pain caught her and she gasped.

He halted. "Did I hurt you?"

"Nay, 'tis only… it has been a long while since…"

He nodded, his look darkening. "Just relax and trust me. I'll make you forget about him."

Torrin was right; a moment later, he was the focus of her existence. His scorching kisses mimicked the erotic moves of his body. He surged into her and away at an ever intensifying pace. Naught but pleasure and need ricocheted throughout her entire body. She no longer remembered who she was, only that she never wanted him to stop what he was doing.

Cold water from Torrin's wet hair dripped onto the sun-warmed skin of her face and neck as he pounded into her. Hot shivers spiraled through her, along with pleasure that darted and whizzed along her limbs.

He growled in her ear and slowed.

"Nay, keep going," she begged.

"Saints, lass," he hissed and moved his hand between their bodies. When he stroked her, she thought she would explode. She cried out, holding her breath with the increasing sensations. Nay, she could not breathe while he did that… whatever he was doing with his thumb, circling some especially sensitive spot. It felt like magic.

He slid deep, then away. Something inside her caught like throwing whisky on a fire, and she burst into flames. Her body bowed and shoved against his, beyond her control. What was happening? What sorcery had he worked on her? She knew she was screaming but couldn't stop. His mouth closed over hers, muffling her cries and his body ground against hers, deep into hers, over and over, the most perfect feeling in the world. She held onto him, grasping him to her, never wanting him to let go.

He roared in her ear, his body shuddering forcefully against hers.

A moment later, he breathed a curse and collapsed on the sand beside her, rolling her to face him, pulling her tight against him. "Saints! That was heaven on earth," he whispered between harsh breaths.

"Aye." 'Twas true. She didn't understand what she'd felt—that moment of pure bliss that had taken her breath and her mind—but she was too embarrassed to ask him about it.

Observing her a long moment while they caught their breaths, he grinned. "You have a beautiful smile."

She hadn't even realized she was smiling, but indeed she was incredibly happy for the first time in a very long time. Of course, her family made her happy, too. But even with them, she sometimes felt lonely or incomplete.

But Torrin had given her joy such as she'd rarely experienced. And why shouldn't she take her happiness where she could find it? She was no longer a young lass, needing to keep her virtue intact for some future husband. If she was barren, a tumble on the sand wouldn't matter. And if she wasn't… if Torrin got her with child… she didn't know. Did she wish to marry him? Before today, she hadn't thought so, but after what they'd just shared, she was certainly tempted. The emotion and passion in his eyes had held her spellbound. But would he lose interest and desert her as the other men had? Just the thought of it sent an ache through her stomach. If she fell for Torrin and he rejected her, she would never recover. There were too many unanswered questions and unfortunately she couldn't see into the future.

"Come, let's go for a swim." He stood and helped her up.

Her face heated for she still couldn't get used to his naked body, despite what they'd just shared.

"But you must get rid of this first." He bent and raised the hem of her smock, but her arms prevented him from lifting it over her head.

"Nay! What if someone should come along?" She glanced up at the cliffs and the high bank surrounding them.

"Do you see anyone? We're over a mile from the village and further than that from the castle."

She bit her lip. His suggestion was tempting. How glorious it would feel to swim in the sea naked. She hadn't done so since last year.

"We'll spread the garment over this rock and it will dry in the sun and breeze by the time we're done swimming."

She glanced around, making sure no one was above them looking down. "Oh, very well." She lifted the smock over her head. He took it from her and spread it over the boulder.

His gaze skimmed over her, then lingered on her breasts. "Saints. You are the loveliest of sights."

She suppressed the urge to fold her arms over her breasts. "You're not so bad yourself, MacLeod."

He gave her an amused smirk. "Come. It's been a while since I swam in the sea for any length of time. And today's a rare warm day."

He dove under the water and she didn't see him for several moments, until he emerged thirty feet away. Not to be outdone, she took a deep breath and dove beneath the waves. Seconds later, she grabbed onto him and rose above the surface.

"I don't ken any other lady who could do that," he said.

She savored his compliment, but at the same time, it made her wonder. "Do you ken a lot of ladies?"

"Nay, not that many." He grinned.

Jealousy arose, unbidden. "Liar. I'm certain you have known many in the Biblical sense."

"I remember none of them."

"I don't care for insincere sweet talk."

"Nor do I. I've not so much as looked at another woman, much less touched one, since the night we met."

She searched his gaze, looking for insincerity, but could find none. Either he was telling the truth or he was a very skilled liar.

"I knew then that I wanted you and no one else would suffice."

Why? How? She had a thousand questions to ask him, but she didn't wish to get into any serious discussions now.

He grasped her around the waist as her toes barely touched the sandy bottom. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she slid her arms around his neck. His salty, sweet kiss was like the best of treats.

He trailed his tongue down her throat and, lifting her into the air, fastened his hot lips onto one of her nipples. She gasped as fiery arousal blasted through her.

Torrin pulled Jessie's long legs around his waist and strode from the water with her. Damnation, he must have her again. Now. It had only been a few minutes since his release but he was already fully aroused again. The first time with her had been astounding, earth-shaking, and far beyond his wildest dreams. He could've never imagined such pleasure as that which crashed through him with his release.

Gently, he lay her on the sun-warmed woolen plaid—her arisaid—their bare, wet skin sliding together.

"Saints, Jessie. I want you again," he said against her luscious lips.

"Aye. Take me." Between kisses, she whispered those sweet words in a desperate tone that only aroused him more.

After positioning himself, he pushed into her slowly, gradually, savoring each glorious inch. Her delicious, wet heat enveloped him. He looked into her dark blue eyes, seeing more passion than ever before. Though it might be sacrilege, he prayed that she could love him, that she would need him as much as he needed her.

During their first time, his own desire had nearly consumed him. Now, he wanted to give her more of his attention.

When he started moving, she cried out and held on tighter around his neck. "Aye," she breathed against his mouth. He captured her beautiful lips and devoured them. His body near went up in the flames of sexual pleasure.