Page 125 of Midnight Conquest

Her hands shook as she let the sporran fall and tugged at the laces of his breeches. She slipped her fingers beneath the fabric and wrapped her hand around him, hard and pulsing for her.Only for her.

Every inch of him was strong, unyielding, and utterly hers—and for the first time, she felt it, bone-deep and absolute. He wasn’t just taking her. He was giving himself away, piece by desperate piece. And she wanted every last bit of him.

“Fuck, Blossom,” he groaned against her breast, the rough timbre of his voice vibrating through her.

White-hot pleasure rippled through her core, but it was more than heat—it was him. Him, claiming her, possessing her, aye, but alsoneedingher with a desperation that struck straight to her heart.

Broderick rose smoothly to his feet, his strong hands circling her waist as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever held. He lifted her effortlessly, and for one breathless, reeling moment, she didn’t feel like a burden or an obligation—she feltwanted. Cherished.Needed.

Their frantic fingers shed the last barriers between them, fevered kisses stealing every ounce of doubt from her mind as they laid themselves bare, not just in body but in soul.

He gripped her thighs and hoisted her, his mouth devouring hers like she was his lifeline. Her arms locked around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, desperate to hold him close, to keep him tethered to her—or perhaps, to anchor herself tohim.

The swollen head of his cock teased her slick entrance as he carried her toward the bed, and her body responded on instinct, bucking her hips in silent plea. Lust twisted inside her, an unbearable ache to be filledby him. To feel him inside her, filling her up, and she couldn’t stand to be anywhere else.

As if he’d heard the cry of her heart, Broderick thrusted deep in one claiming stroke, filling her so completely she gasped, clutching at his back as though she could pull him deeper still.

His hold on her never wavered, his strength so steady, so sure—as if he alone could carry the weight of all her fears. He moved her up and down his length with maddening control, forcing her to feel every inch of him.

This wasn’t just possession. This was devotion.

She was already undone. Already his. And if he walked away and crushed her soul, so be it.

He laid her down on the bed with reverence, spreading her wide as if she were a treasure he’d fought a lifetime to claim. His gaze scorched over her body, the hunger of a man chasing the unattainable and finding it. Wonder. As though he still couldn’t believe she was real beneath him, and she had no clue what she did to deserve this. To deserve him.

“God’s blood, ye feel like heaven,” he rasped.

He rocked into her with aching slowness, each stroke a confession, each breathless groan a vow. She felt it in the way he watched her, as if memorizing every part of her soul.

She didn’t dare ask him, “Why me?”Didn’t dare spoil the moment.“Even if this is only for tonight, I’ll enjoy this while I can, savor it until my last dying breath.”

“Och, Davina.”His voice filled her mind. “One night was ne’er enough. I cannae get enough o’ ye, lass. Nay matter how hard I triedtae forget ye. Ye’ve haunted my soul since I had my first taste of ye, and I dinnae think I’ll ever get my fill.”

His pace quickened, driving deeper, and she met him thrust for thrust, her heart swelling with a wild, fierce joy she’d never dared to imagine. She wasn’t just feeling possessed by him. Through that mental bond, that intimate pathway between their spirits, she felt his driving need, and God help her, the depth of his heart.

This was what she craved. Not just the physical, buthim.All of him. The man beneath the hunger, the soul beneath the fire.

Her hands raked down his back, and she met him with every ounce of her being, her body shuddering as her climax tore through her like a storm, leaving her wrecked and remade all at once.

Moments later, Broderick followed her over the edge, his shout of her name muffled against her throat as he poured himself into her, as if giving her not just his body but every piece of his battered, beautiful soul.

When he finally lifted his head, her heart swelled at the sight of the softened smile playing at the edges of his lips. He brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, his roughened thumb lingering against her cheek.

“How are ye feelin’?” His voice was a husky caress, still thick with satisfaction.

Davina returned his smile, her palm resting against the rasp of stubble on his cheek. “I’m wonderful.”

That irresistible dimple creased his cheek as his grin deepened. “God’s blood, yer beautiful.”

He kissed her deeply, stealing her breath, then rolled to his side, taking her with him, tucking her securely against him before drawing the covers over them.

Davina snuggled in, savoring the heat of his body. She threw her thigh over his, and he groaned, a low rumble of pleasure.

“Och, woman,” he grunted, the gravel in his voice deliciously rough.

Davina laughed softly against him, her breath teasing his skin, and let her fingers lazily play with the soft auburn hair dusting his chest. After several lingering moments, she lifted her head and rested her chin atop her hand to study him.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye before a slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “What?”

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