Page 61 of Her Highland Prophecy
“Please,” he said, not above begging. He would do anything for her. “I only want to make ye happy.”
“Wouldn’t you regret it once I left and you were alone again?” she asked animatedly. “I won’t change my mind, you know.” Her words were a warning, a plea for him to understand.
And he did. He just didn’t care anymore.
“The only thing I will regret is nay taking the chance to be with ye while ye were here with me. I love ye too much to nay wish things could be different, but I want to spend whatever time together. I dinnae want to fight it anymore.”
“You love me?” she asked, her mouth round with surprise.
“Aye, my Sassenach Princess. I am in love with ye.”
Her eyes widened and she pulled away from him. He dropped the hand that had been on her face to the grass.
“You can’t be,” she said, her body trembling with something he thought might be fear. “You can’t be, because then that would mean that I will have to leave you alone and break your heart when I go. Please don’t say that.”
Her words stung after his confession, but he tried not to let her see it.
“I only speak the truth, Diana, whether ye choose to believe me or nay. I will nay longer deny me feelings for ye,” he said, looking her directly in the eyes.
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. He could see the war waging inside her as she tried to decide. Little by little, he could see the resistance crumbling. She had turned to her side as they spoke, matching his position leaning his head on his elbow, the scant few inches separating them feeling like an entire ocean.
Her eyes darted down to his lips for a moment before jumping back up to his.
“Trust me,” he whispered, leaning over closer to her slightly. Diana gulped, her eyes still searching his before giving him an almost imperceptible nod.
He didn’t wait. His lips claimed hers with all of the fierce longings he had felt since the moment he met her. This was nothing like the first kiss they had shared earlier. They were kindling and the kiss was the spark that lit the fire, consuming them both.
His hand went to the back of her head as his body leaned over hers, his elbow planted near her shoulder as his lips plundered hers, coming in again and again. Kissing her was like nothing he had ever felt before. Like fine whisky, smooth and powerful, that made you want another sip. And then another. And another. He never wanted it to end.
Below him, Diana was not idle. One of her hands pushed into his hair, her fingers inadvertently releasing it from its leather tie, while the other snuck onto his shoulder through his open shirt.
Her fingers moved constantly caressing his bare flesh and, though he was by no means an innocent, each of her unassuming touches made him want her with a such a strong passion, the likes of which he had never felt before. He felt himself harden underneath his kilt.
He deepened the kiss further and she let out the sweetest of moans in response, her entire upper body arching up to meet him. He loved how responsive she was to him. Every small touch seemed to elicit a reaction in her and all he wanted to do was figure out what sound each of his touches would provoke.
When he was finally out of breath he broke away from her lips, but his own never left her skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to her jaw, moving behind her ear and then slowly down the column of her neck to her collarbones, every inch of her alabaster skin calling to him.
“Gordain,” she moaned, a shiver wracking through her as her entire upper body arched in his direction. Her grip tightened deliciously in his hair.
“Hush, Princess,” he whispered against her skin, his lips grazing against the thundering pulse in her throat as he spoke. A high-pitched moan was the only response he received.
The sound went right through him, making him suddenly fight the urge to bury himself inside her.
Patience.
He had to proceed with caution. Diana didn’t seem completely innocent, but he didn’t know what sort of experience she had and he did not want to scare her with his eagerness if she was a maiden.
He continued pressing wet kisses down to her collarbones. The skin in the hollow of her throat was so impossibly soft that he spent a long time kissing and licking it. For the first time since he met her, he could see the practicality of her short hair. He had almost unrestricted access to her entire throat and he readily took advantage of the offered space.
He could feel the thrumming of her pulse through her veins, even as she writhed from the onslaught of sensations he was giving her body. He doubted she was coherent at the moment. Small moans escaped her from time to time, the only distinguishable word among them being his name. One of her hands was grasping his hair almost painfully, while the other was on his back, the fabric of his shirt bunching in her grip.
An almost smug feeling came over him as he glanced over her. Her face and neck were flushed, her head tilted back with her mouth open. He was the one who had done that to her.
Testing the waters a little bit, he glided the hand that was on her waist upward and cupped her breast. Her reaction was instant. Her eyes shot open and her hand landed on his, but rather than restricting his motion she seemed to be encouraging it.
“Gordain,” she moaned out to the open air again, even more loudly than before.
He massaged her flesh softly, each caress earning him a moan in response. Underneath the fabric of her gown he could feel her nipple hardening into a hard pebble. He switched breasts giving her other one the same treatment, even as he grabbed hold of her behind with his other hand.
