Page 46 of Cottage in the Mist
His fingers tightened on her nipple, tugging as he surged into her again, and she fractured, her entire body convulsing with the power of her climax. She spasmed around him, breath stuttering, heart pounding. His arms tightened around her, holding her safe as she spiraled out of control. Her mind blanked as the power of their passion overrode every other sense.
He held her for a moment, then gently rolled her over until he was propped above her, his hips nestled between her legs, his body braced on his elbows. Their gazes collided and she struggled for breath. Then with a slow, sure smile, he lifted and surged into her again. Her body responded in an instant, desire building again as he began to ride.
She wrapped her legs around him, and his mouth found hers. The kiss was searing. A take no prisoners possession. Each of them claiming the other with lips and tongues and always the driving rhythm of him moving deep inside her.
Opening wider, she took him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her muscles tightened around him. Holding him. Caressing him. Taking and giving. Their fated dance beyond all time.
This was what she had been born for. This moment. This man. And nothing was going to keep them apart.
He murmured her name, and then his lips claimed hers again, their bodies moving together. The magic tension built again, stretching tighter and tighter as they continued to move together. Then suddenly the world exploded into shards of light.
He swallowed her cry, his hands linking with both of hers. And there was nothing in the world but the two of them, joined together as surely it was meant to be.
15
“Bram?” The cry tore through him. “Where are you?”
He turned from the fireplace as Lily pushed to a sitting position, her ebony hair curling wildly around her head, her sleep-heavy eyes holding traces of fear. His heart twisted.
“I’m here,mo ghràidh. I’m only stoking the fire.” Placing the poker back by the hearth, he crossed the room to slip into bed beside her, pulling her soft, warm body against his, his lips moving in her hair. Within his embrace he could feel her trembling. “Dinna fash yourself,” he soothed. “Everything is all right.”
“I’m sorry.” She tilted her head so that her emerald gaze met his. “It’s just that I woke and you were gone. Like before. And I…”
“I know,” he whispered, stroking her hair. He fought the urge to assure her that it would never happen again. That they’d never be parted. But he wasn’t a lying man. The future—their future—was clouded. “I’m here now,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.
He’d meant to offer comfort. To hold her until she fell asleep, but the spark between them ignited, his senses exploding as hedeepened the kiss. Never had he felt so engulfed by passion. He’d always been the possessor, never the possessed. The idea should have alarmed him, but somehow it only made him want her more. Maybe he’d had it right the first time. He was bewitched, body and soul.
With a groan, he rolled her beneath him, pinning her body with his, his hips resting between her thighs. Their gazes locked and held, her glittering green eyes dark with desire.
Again he bent his head, this time to trace the line of her jaw with open-mouthed kisses, letting his lips trail lower to caress the curve of her neck and the valley between her breasts. She whimpered and arched her back. And he took what she offered, circling one nipple with his tongue and then the other, teasing them both until he felt them pebble hard beneath his touch.
Where their lovemaking before had been ruled by raw hunger and need, this time, although desire still pressed, Bram was determined to take it slow. To make time for exploration. For slow, sensual loving. Using his hands and mouth, he explored every part of her, rejoicing in the soft tangle of her hair, the velvety whorls of her ears and the supple, smooth curves of her shoulders.
He kissed her fingers, her toes, the hollows behind her knees. He tasted her lips, her breasts, and finally her soft molten core. His hands worshiped her, his lips reverent. She belonged to him. And he to her. It was as simple as that. Or perhaps as complicated.
But now wasn’t the time for thinking.
Bram pushed her thighs wide and thrust his tongue deep, feeling her shudder and clench around him. She cried out as satisfaction burned through him, his need to please her almost overriding his own desire.
Sliding up again, he took possession of her mouth, his kiss growing more insistent. She yielded to him, her tongue dancingwith his, her taste intoxicating. He wound his fingers through her hair as her hands stroked his shoulders, his back, his hips. And then her fingers slipped between them, circling his erection—her touch almost unmanning him.
She squeezed and stroked, caressing and enticing. Inch by inch, his carefully fought control slipped away until he stood on the brink, his body heavy with his need. “Enough,” he whispered, reaching down to remove her hand.
She frowned in question, but he smiled, pushing her thighs apart as he settled himself between them. Then, arching his hips, he entered her with a single, powerful thrust, burying himself to the hilt, her tight, wet heat threatening to finish what her hand had begun.
Resisting the urge to move, he held her passion-filled gaze, drinking in her strength, her beauty. “No matter what happens—know always that you are mine.” He hadn’t meant to say the words; they’d come unbidden. And now they stretched between them, filling the silence.
“And you’re mine,” she whispered as she pulled him down into a kiss, her body shifting to take him deeper. And he was lost on a sea of passion and emotion beyond anything he’d ever kenned.
There was nothing but the two of them and the power of their bodies moving together, each stroke taking them higher and then higher still, until he wasn’t sure where he ended and she began.
And he knew in that moment that he’d do anything to protect her—even if it meant letting her go.
Bram shivered in the cold as the first pink fingers of dawn reached up from the horizon. Lily lay sleeping in the bed, one hand clutching the bedcovers, the other folded beneath her cheek. Her dark curls splayed out across the pillow. Her ring lay against her bare breast, the cool silver almost encircling her nipple.
He clenched his fist, fighting the desire to abandon all honor. To climb back into the bed. To take her again. To lose himself in her sweet heat. But to do so would be to deny his heritage. To dishonor his father and his clan.
Dawn was upon them. And his duty lay above all else. Even his love.Hislove. The words echoed through his mind. He tested them, considered them, and then accepted them as truth. He loved Lily. Had loved her almost from the first moment she’d collapsed at his hearth. And yet he had to walk away.
