Page 29 of Highlander's Caged Rose
Moira was writhing on the bed as waves of pleasure washed over her again and again. She fisted her hands in Niall’s thick brown hair, desperate for something, anything to cling onto.
“What are you doing to me?” she gasped, hardly able to speak.
Niall raised his head to look up at Moira, then he lifted himself on his elbows and eased upwards so that he could look into her eyes.
“Are you ready for me, my love?” he asked softly,
“Am I your love?” Moira asked, once more lost in his green eyes.
That was the moment when Niall knew that he loved Moira more than he had ever loved anyone in his life. “You have bewitched me. Be mine, Moira.”
He waited for her to speak.
Moira hesitated for an agonising second or two because a lot rested on her answer. If she told how she felt, and he still married Beitris she would be devastated, but she had to face the truth. The marriage was already set in stone, so she might as well tell Niall how she felt. Her heart would be broken whatever she did.
“I’m yours,” she whispered, and pulled his head down for another searing, smouldering kiss.
When they drew apart, Moira reached down to take him in her hand, and Niall gave a gasp of surprise as her fingers closed around him.
Moira had never felt anything so strange—soft, velvet skin on the surface with some much firmer flesh underneath, and suddenly, she felt a surge of need.
“Take me,” she whispered.
Niall needed no second bidding. He positioned himself at Moira’s entrance, then, looking into her blue eyes all the while, he surged into her, and Moira cried out his name as she felt him fill her.
It was glorious. She lifted her hips up as he thrust, and they began to move together in a rhythm that was as old as time itself. Feeling his flesh rubbing against and inside hers made Moira feel wild and wanton, and she dug her fingers into the hard muscle of Niall’s arms as he moved on her. In the morning, he would have little bruises, but they would not be marks of anger, but of love.
Strangely enough, the pain increased his desire and his thrusts became harder and faster. He had never felt so potently male before, but then he had never been with Moira before. It was heavenly.
Moira felt as though she was climbing, reaching for something that seemed inaccessible, and the harder she strained to reach it, the farther away it seemed to be. But every movement of her body, every thrust of Niall inside her, brought her closer and closer, and the pleasure increased, becoming more and more intense, till finally it exploded and washed over her in a tide of ecstasy.
“Niall!” she screamed, and threw her head back, writhing under him.
Nothing could have prepared her for this unbelievably glorious experience, and it had been given to her by the man she loved more than anyone else in the world.
Niall too had a climax unlike anything he had ever felt before, and he called out Moira’s name as he reached fulfilment, then swiftly withdrew from her and spent himself.
Niall wrapped his arms around Moira and drew her into a warm embrace. At that moment, the world was perfect, and no one existed except the two of them.
Moira lay in the cocoon of Niall’s body and thought that she could have stayed there forever, wrapped in love and held in safety.
“Thank you, Moira,” he whispered. “That was the most wonderful experience of my life.”
“No, thank you, Niall,” she replied with a contented sigh. “I will remember tonight forever.”
13
When Moira opened her eyes the next morning, she was shocked to see a sleeping Niall beside her, then she remembered what had happened the night before. At the thought of it, a wave of warmth swept over her, something both physical and emotional. As she looked at his handsome face, she could not believe that a man like this would look twice at her, scarred and imperfect as she was. She had nothing to offer him, and had been honest with him about that, but he had not cared, he still wanted her.
Then she became suspicious. Had he merely wanted to enjoy her body, then discard her? However, deep inside herself, she knew that was not true. What had happened between them the night before had not been the act of two strangers who had come together for a passing fling, but a true connection of souls.
Moira had seen the depth of love in his eyes, and felt the tenderness with which he touched her. She was not just someone who could be used and thrown away; she was his, and he was hers.
Moira studied Niall as he slept, noting how calm and relaxed he was compared to the rigid, authoritative posture he adopted as a Laird. She suspected that she was seeing the real Niall, theman who lived inside the formidable exterior he presented to the outside world. Behind closed doors, his heart of gold could shine brightly, and Moira was infinitely glad she had seen it. She would never look at him in the same way again.
Sadness overcame her when she thought that she could not stay and explore what was between them more. However, she had nothing to offer him, whereas the woman he was going to marry had wealth and status. If it came to another battle between the McPhees and other families, could Moira produce an army to fight for him? No, it was impossible.
Then Moira smiled as she thought how happy she was that she had seen what he kept hidden under his clothes! Even the thought of his powerful body, which was so close to hers, was arousing her again, and she chastised herself for her wantonness. Yet even though she knew it was a natural response to the nearness of this beautiful man, in a strange way she was enjoying the feeling of wickedness.
