Page 14 of Cottage in the Mist
“The son of an old enemy of my father’s. But he would have had to have help. Which means my father was betrayed.”
“Which makes it all the worse. It must be tearing you apart.” She pushed close, as if somehow she could wipe the agony away with merely her physical presence. And he blessed her for it, pulling her tighter against him.
“I have no’ had the time to really think it all through yet. It happened so fast. I barely got out of there alive.”
“You were there?” Her eyes widened, her fingers tightening on his arm.
“Aye. And they were coming for me next.”
“But you escaped.”
“For the moment, yes. But they know that as long as I live, I’ll seek vengeance.”
“And so this enemy wants you dead?” She frowned, a tiny line forming between her eyes. “Surely the authorities can do something.”
“Mayhap. I dinna know. That’s why I came to Duncreag. I need Iain’s help.”
“Then surely he’ll give it to you.”
“That he will. It’s just a matter of whether it will be enough. But I dinna want you to worry. And I need you to know that whatever happens, being here with you has helped me to forget—at least for a little while.”
She nodded. “Me, too. I mean, you’ve helped me too. It’s almost as if we were meant to find each other. As crazy as that sounds.”
Despite the gravity of the conversation, he laughed. “Well, if you are a wee bit daft then I must be as well.”
For a moment he simply let his mind drift, relishing the feel of her lying next to him, and then he bent his head, first kissing her eyes and then the line of her nose and the curve of her brow. Then finally kissing her lips, the sweet intoxication almost more than he could bear. She opened her mouth and he traced the line of her teeth with his tongue, her taste at once familiar and exotic.
He wondered if he could ever truly get enough of her. Or if he would forever be doomed to wanting more. He smiled against her mouth, realizing there were far worse fates.
There was magic in the bright green of her eyes and Bram marveled at the emotions rocketing through him. Emotions thatsheinspired. There was desire, certainly, more than he had ever known, but there was so much more than that. There was a kind of fierce possessiveness, a protective urge as old as time itself. Something he had never felt before.
And even more surprising, there was a gentle tenderness, the need to cherish and revere, the power of his need almost unmanning. And finally, there was a selflessness as foreign to him as breathing under water. He knew in that instant that he would give anything, do anything, if it would make her happy.
She smiled up at him, her eyes like a spring meadow. And with a groan, he captured her mouth with his, his tongue and lips communicating all that he was feeling. It was a take no prisoners kiss, both of them taking and giving.
Then he shifted, kissing her cheeks and eyes, the soft curve of her ear and the gentle slope of her neck. He trailed kisses along the cleft between her breasts, then he pulled one swollen peak into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the taut nipple until she cried out, the sound filling him with pleasure.
Sucking harder, he caressed the other breast, unable to get enough of her, secretly willing the night to last forever. Herfingers twined in his hair, urging him onward, her body like a fine bow, primed and waiting. Waiting forhim. He smiled at his own rhetoric, wondering when he had become a bard.
Slowly he inched downward, his tongue tasting first the soft skin of her belly and then, lower still, trailing soft kisses along her inner thighs, his tongue stroking her skin, his desire demanding he take more, that he taste all of her, that he make her once and forever his.
Shifting slightly, he pushed her legs apart and bent to kiss her, lapping at her delicate softness, drinking in her sweetness. Her hands tightened in his hair, her body arching joyfully upward, meeting him, wanting him.
Using his tongue and his fingers, he drove her closer and closer to the edge, feeding on the soft sounds of her passion. And then her body tensed, arching up off the bed.
“Bram,” she cried.
Needing her now more than life itself, he slid upward again, covering her mouth with his as her hand closed around him. Fire raged through him and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, the moist, hot feel almost his undoing.
God’s blood, he wanted this woman. Wanted her with a fury unlike anything he had felt before.
Her hand slid up and down, stroking, squeezing, caressing, the pain sweet, his need burgeoning into white-hot desire. With a groan, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. With a crooked grin, she sat up, straddling him. And then slowly lifted and slid down again, taking him deep inside her.
He sucked in a breath, wondering if there could be anything better than the feel of her hot and wet against his taut skin, only to lose the thought as she began to move, her hands on his shoulders, her long, wild hair falling like a screen around them.
Grasping her hips, he helped her set the pace, slow and easy, each upward motion almost separating them. She licked her lips, her eyes glazing over with passion.
“Now, Bram.”
