Page 44 of An Allusive Love
Of all the comrades that e’er Ihad
They’re sorry for my goingaway
And all the sweethearts that e’er Ihad
They’d wish me one more day tostay
Calum added his rich tenor and everyone but Colin sang along to the bittersweet melody.
But since it fell into mylot
That I should rise and you shouldnot
I’ll gently rise and softlycall
Good night and joy to youall
Fill to me the partingglass
And drink a health whate’erbefalls
Then gently rise and softlycall
Good night and joy to youall
Brodie’s arm fell to his side, the bow sharp against his bare knee. The haunting notes of the pipes faded, and Colin set the instrument down. The misty-eyed group gave one another watery smiles and held up their glasses. “To Ian.”
Chapter Fourteen
A Bungled Betrothal
Early September
“It’s time totell my family.” Brodie and Kirstine were in the pines, listening to the rush of the waterfall below. He wondered if they would still come here once they were married. “My aunt and cousin are coming from England. I want to make the announcement before they arrive.”
“Are ye sure?” Kirstine asked.
Brodie brushed a silky red lock from her cheek and replaced it with his lips. His self-control was waning. They lay beneath the pines in their usual spot. His finger made a lazy trail from her chin to the hollow of her throat. With a flick of his thumb, he pulled the tie of her shirt loose, then again and again.
“Ye’ve been more than patient.” He breathed in the sweet scent of heather that lingered in her hair. The bodice fell away, and he easily pulled on the shift to free her breasts. A groan scratched at his throat. “For the love of saints, I need to get ye to the kirk.” The ache in his crotch was painful, and it wasn’t happening just when he was with her. Every morning, he woke with a raw throbbing, his dreams of her soft curves still lingering in the early dawn light.
“How is yer—”
Kirstine gasped as his mouth covered her nipple. He blew on it lightly and watched the pink bud pebble. His hand slid down her belly and under her skirt, his palm tickling the thick curls of her mound, his fingers parting her soft womanly petals. Bloody hell, she was hot and wet and inviting. He wanted to take her and the devil with a bed.
“Brodie, let me love ye.”
The huskiness of her tone spurred him on. He nipped and teased her other nipple to a point and slid his fingers inside her. Her hips rose to meet his thrusts, and she whimpered in anticipation. His thumb lightly rubbed her nub, then he bent his head and flicked it with his tongue.
“What… oh God, oh Brodie!” She cried out as he sucked and licked at the delicate pearl, swollen and hard with his ministrations. Her body shuddered; her nails dug into his shoulders.
Brodie eased himself next to her, withdrawing from her passage and kissing her mouth. He continued sliding his fingers between the sensitive flesh, wet from her spent desire, until her panting eased. “Ye’re so lovely when ye’re satisfied.”
She smiled, eyes closed. “Will a bed change my body’s reaction to ye?”
He laughed. “No, but it will ease my conscience.”
Kirstine rolled over to her side and leaned her head on her fist, the other hand pulling his shirt from his kilt. “It’s my turn.”
