Page 42 of Cottage in the Mist
She sucked in a breath, nodding, her eyes still locked on his. “But after you disappeared, I went to Dunbrae. I wanted to find you. I… I touched the fallen stones and the tower appeared. Only it was burning and there were men fighting everywhere. I was alone amongst them. And then you were there, but before I could reach you, you were gone. I thought… Oh, Bram, I was so afraid.”
“Ach,mo ghràidh, there was no need,” he soothed as he smoothed back her hair. “’Twas naught but a vision. I escaped the blackguards in the pass and at Dunbrae. And I’m here now with you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “That’s all that matters.”
She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, the corners of her mouth lifting with a tremulous smile. He brushed the moisture away with his thumb. And then, with a low groan, bent his head and slanted his mouth over hers. Their lips brushed lightly, almost reverently, as if afraid that in touching one the other might disappear.
But the gentle touch only heightened Bram’s need, a simple kiss no longer enough. He pulled her closer, his mouth firming as his lips pressed harder against hers. Tasting. Teasing. With a sigh, she opened to him, and he plunged his tongue into the moist heat of her mouth, deepening the kiss.
Firelight flickered around them and he drew her farther into the warmth of the room, his hands sliding down to the small of her back. She arched against him, mewling softly as she lifted her arms to twine her fingers through his hair, her breasts pressing against his chest.
Heat seared through him, desire so potent he feared it would engulf them both. And yet, even as the thought occurred, he pushed it aside. This was what he wanted. He needed her more than he’d ever needed anybody. Wanted her with a passion that was almost beyond ken. It was as if she’d reached inside him and touched his core. Set free that part of him that was most basic—most primitive.
He let his mind go as he lost himself in her kiss. Their tongues danced together, parrying and thrusting in a prelude to things to come. She tasted of something dusky and sweet. And he pressed for more. Drinking deeply. Wishing there were a way to take her inside of him. To hold her safely there.
Desperate now to feel her skin beneath his fingers, he reached behind her to undo the buttons that held her gown closed. Her skin beneath was silky and smooth, and she shivered beneath his touch. He smiled, pleased with her reaction, his mouth caressing the corners of her lips, and then kissing a line across the satin of her cheek to the soft whorl of her ear. He dipped his tongue inside and smiled as she tensed beneath his ministrations, her rising desire evident in the stuttered inhale of breath as he sucked gently on her earlobe, his breath caressing her.
Then with impatient hands, he pushed the bodice off her shoulders, baring her to the waist, delighted to find no further obstruction to his goal. With an open-mouthed kiss to the tender hollow at the base of her neck, he slid his hands up to cup her breasts. Her nipples were tight little buds. Pink against her alabaster skin. Ripe for the tasting. As if privy to his thoughts, she moaned and arched her back, eyes closed as she offered herself to him.
His body hardened as his passion rose to match hers. And he shifted, laying her back across his arm, his mouth taking one ofher nipples. Biting lightly, he sucked her breast deeper into his mouth, tongue swirling around the crest as he suckled.
Her fingers laced into his hair again as he continued to taste her. Torment her. Then he shifted his attentions to the other breast, the other nipple, biting and sucking, pulling and teasing until she writhed beneath him, calling his name.
His groin literally throbbing with need, he swung her into his arms, still raining hot kisses along the swell of her breasts. In two strides, he’d reached the bed, laying her down on the pallet, his breath catching as the firelight danced across her skin.
With a slow smile, she rose on her knees. Then with graceful finesse, she pushed the gown over her hips, the fine material sliding down her thighs to pool on the bed around her. Moving slightly, she picked it up and tossed it to the floor, clad now only in a wisp of white lace that slid over her hips and between her thighs.
When she reached for the lace, he shook his head. “Nay,mo ghràidh, let me.”
He reached down and slid a finger between the lace and her skin, then slowly inched the wee band down until it barely covered the soft dark curls at the apex of her thighs. She was already wet and ready. And she swallowed a moan when his fingers brushed across her mons, teasing the opening as he pushed her back onto the bed and slid the lacy undergarment from her legs.
Kneeling then on the floor at the edge of the pallet, he pushed her thighs wide and bent his head, blowing softly against the curls before slipping a finger inside to stroke her. In and out. In and out. Deeper, then deeper still as he added a second finger, his fist moving as he pushed inside her, stroking, possessing, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
Crying out, she bucked up off the bed, but he held her with his hands as he exchanged fingers for lips and tongue. Lickingand sucking, tasting her essence—feeling her body tighten with her need. Finding the tiny nub of her desire, he closed his lips around it and suckled, her strangled moan sending his own pulses pounding. Licking and laving, he circled and flicked. And then slid his tongue lower and thrust it deep. Once and then again. And yet again. Until she screamed his name and fell from the precipice.
He slid onto the bed and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she shuddered, the climax still holding her in its thrall. Finally, when he felt her breathing ease, he pulled away.
“Not yet, please?—“
“Easy now. I’m no’ going anywhere.” He smiled down at her, his body heavy and aching, the time for giving almost past. Quickly, he shed his garments and then returned to her side, pulling her into his arms. Skin to skin. Breast to chest.
He covered her mouth with his, the kiss languid and slow. His hand slid between her legs again, and he delighted in the warm wet heat that greeted him. “So then are you ready for me?” His voice was low, almost a growl, as he rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him.
Straddling his hips, she smiled down at him, her green eyes flecked with amber fire, her black hair a wavy curtain as she leaned forward to kiss him again. His hands closed around her breasts and he kneaded as they drank from each other, their tongues delving deep.
Then with a toss of her head, she sat back, lifting her hips and settling herself over the tip of his erection, the suction of her wet heat enveloping him as she slowly slid down. His hands still on her breasts, he waited until he was buried inside her, then slowly began to rock as she slid upwards again, setting the rhythm for their ride.
Despite his burning need to possess her, he allowed the torture of her slow, sensuous movements simply because he wasspellbound by the beauty of the passion reflected in her face. Passion for him. For their joining.
She slid down again, taking him deeper as she moved her legs wider. Then suddenly he sat up, taking her breast in his mouth, tugging her nipple as she tightened her sheath around him. Sensation stretched, both of them captured, and then he grabbed her hips and the dance began in earnest.
In and out. Up and down. Her head thrown back in abandon, she arched her back. A goddess on fire. His body tensed as they rode higher and higher. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin. She rode him harder and harder as he thrust inside her. Deeper and deeper until they were bonded together, not just physically but somehow intrinsically. Body to body. Soul to soul.
The excruciating joy ratcheted higher still and Lily tensed, then called his name as her body contracted around him, stroking and caressing, urging him to follow. Still holding her hips, he plunged up as she moved down. One last thrust and his mind exploded into sensation and light, his seed spilling deep inside her.
As unlikely as it might seem, they belonged together. Here between worlds. And now that he held her again, he never wanted to let her go.
Lily lay in the flickering firelight listening to the steady beat of Bram’s heart. Her cheek nestled on his heavily muscled chest, she sighed and wiggled closer, grateful when his arms tightened around her. They were lying there, boneless, the power of their climaxes still an almost tangible thing.
He smelled of wood smoke and leather. And something uniquely Bram. The essence sent her emotions tumbling, her body tightening with desire all over again. It made absolutely no sense. But this man, this Highlander, had touched her in a way that no one else had ever done. It was as if he’d touched that part of her she’d always kept hidden away. The one that feared being hurt. Feared taking a risk.
