Page 91 of Cottage in the Mist
She tilted back her head, eyes closing as she offered herself to him. His mouth closed over one breast, the wet warmth sending her arching upward to press her body even closer. He sucked harder, pulling her deeper into his mouth, his fingers teasing the other nipple. She ground her pelvis against his, needing more. Wanting more.
His hand circled lower, and then lower still, slipping into the waistband of her leggings, beneath the elastic of her panties. Slowly, so slowly, his fingers stroked through the curls between her legs, circling just above the place she longed for him to touch. Moaning, she arched upward trying to force his play, but instead she felt his smile as he lifted his head.
“Patience,mo ghràidh.”
He kissed her on the lips—hard, and then helped her remove the rest of her clothes. Then with trembling hands, she pulled the long linen shirt over his head.
“You’re hurt.” She reached out to run her finger across the skin adjacent to the angry slash on his chest.
“’Tis no’ but a scratch, I swear to you.”
“Well, I’ll not let anyone hurt you again either.”
His smile was crooked and slow, stealing her breath away. He helped her remove the rest of his clothes, and naked, they lay down against the soft wool of his plaid, the stars twinkling through the trees above them.
Bracing himself on his elbows, he lowered his big body to cover hers, the hair on his chest brushing seductively against her breasts. His mouth found hers, his tongue taking control as he circled her wrists and lifted them above her head. He kissed her eyes, her nose and the corners of her lips. Then he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, his hot breath torturing her with the promise of what was to come.
He kissed his way down the valley between her breasts and across the taut plane of her stomach. And then he freed her hands, pushing her legs apart, her thighs braced on his shoulders. She shuddered again with need as his fingers held her open and his tongue dipped unerringly into her core, stroking, sucking, laving. She bucked against him, feeling the sweet tension begin to rise. Her hands braced against his shoulders as he took her higher and then higher still, his tongue driving her toward the precipice.
And then just as she reached the pinnacle, he withdrew, and she bit off her protest as he slid up her body, his mouth finding hers as the head of his erection pressed against her opening. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she lifted as he thrust deeply, filling her with his heat. For a moment they held still, the fragrant night air surrounding them, the soft sounds of the river providing a private symphony.
Then he began to move. Slowly at first then with more urgency and power. She found his rhythm and rose to meet each thrust, their bodies moving in tandem, pleasure intensifying until it was just this side of pain. Together they moved. Higher and harder. Faster and deeper. And Lily felt her world began to break apart, the power of her climax sending her crashing over the edge.
Flying on pure sensation, she cried out his name and felt her body contracting around his as he thrust into her, his breathing guttural as he too found his release. Her heart pounded againsthis, her body singing in pure delight—as if she were an instrument that had been well-played. His mouth found hers, his kiss deep and thorough.
Then, with a sigh of contentment that echoed her own, he rolled off of her, pulling her into his arms, her head cradled on his chest. They lay together quietly, hearts beating in tandem. He stroked her hair and tugged her plaid across them both to keep them warm. She felt cherished. Loved.
And as she drifted off to sleep, it occurred to Lily that if she were to die now, in this moment, she would die happy. Truly, blissfully, honestly happy.
29
Bram woke to the sounds of the river. Stars still studded the black velvet sky. The air was cold, but it was warm in the cocoon they’d made of their plaids. Lily’s leg was draped across his thighs, her hair tickling him as it curled beneath his chin. She was beautiful in sleep. Almost as beautiful as she was in the throes of passion. He felt his body respond to the images in his brain. And he indulged in a satisfied smile as he pulled her closer, the soft whoosh of her breath warm against his skin.
She murmured something in her sleep, and then stretched, her breasts pressing into his chest. “Did I fall asleep?” she asked, her voice not much more than a whisper.
“Aye. As did I.” He felt her smile.
“Well, if you’re going to wear a girl out like that, it’s to be expected, I suppose.”
She rose up on one elbow, pushing her rioting hair out of her face, green eyes glittering with laughter and something more. Something that made him swallow with anticipation, desire stirring to life again. He wondered if he’d ever get enough of her. And just as quickly let the notion go. They belonged to each other now. And nothing would separate them.
He blew out a harsh breath. Would that it were that simple. But there was so much uncertainty. For a moment, he felt a wash of guilt. He shouldn’t have brought her into this. Shouldn’t have asked her to give him her life. Not when so much was at stake. Not when tomorrow might mean his death.
“What is it?” She was still watching him, but frowning now. “You’re not regretting this, are you? You’re not regretting us?”
“Nay, lass, never.” He reached over to kiss her, trying to ignore his fears. Tonight belonged to them. And he’d not let his uncle take this too.
“Good.” She settled next to him, her fingers softly tracing patterns through the hair on his chest. “Because I have no regrets either. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not worried about what tomorrow will bring.”
“Dinna think on it now,” he said, wishing it were that easy.
“I can’t help myself. I came back to stop you from fighting Alec. To keep you alive. But now I fear I’ve just thrown you from the frying pan into the fire.”
“An interesting turn of phrase,” he said, twining a lock of hair around his finger. “But you canna fash yourself o’er something you canna control.”
“I might not have control. But you do. You don’t have to challenge your uncle.”
“I dinna have to, no, but to honor my father, I must. Surely you can see that?”
