Gifts of Desire (32 page)

             
W
hen
he rose up on his hands and thre
w his head back with a
soul-searing
groan, s
he could feel the
firmly leashed
power of his muscles flexing against her
.  T
hen his whole body
tensed
.  She held onto him tightly until he
began to shudder
.  At last he
made a sound like a soft sob and collapsed onto her,
his face buried in her neck.  After a long moment, he gathered her in his arms and rolled
to the side so she wouldn’t be crushed.  His hands caressed her body, and he kissed her tenderly, slowly.  Then he dropped his forehead to hers and
gave a sigh
of utter defeat.

             
“
You
didn
’t
tell me. 
You
should have told me”, he said.

             
“Should have told
you
what?”
  She leaned
closer
to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

             
“That
you
were still a maid. 
I didn’t know. 
I…
I wasn’t
gentle.
  I would have been gentle.
”
  He could not say for sure
whether
that was the truth.

             
“I didn’t
want gentle.  There’s time for gentle later.
  It was perfect, Ceann, amazing.
”
  Her hands slid over his body, reveling in the feel of him
that he had denied her for so long
.

             
Ceann
closed his
eyes.  Her touch on his skin was pure bliss, yet he was
more deeply
troubled
than he had ever been
.  He should not have taken her innocence, not when he couldn’t even offer her marriage.
 
No, wouldn’t
.
  And yet, he had just had the most earth-shattering experience of his life.  The pleasure had been so great, and not just the pleasure of his body, but deeper still. 
Devastating pleasure, that
had reached his very soul, he was sure of it.  He had been with many women, but nothing had ever come close to this, he had never come so hard, never wanted to stay in a woman’s arms forever, afterward.
  Never been so completely out of control.
  The intensity of what he had felt was almost frightening, and
yet
he wanted nothing m
ore than to feel it again. 
And to run from it before it could consume him. 

             
Her hands were
still
roaming over his body, touching, caressing.  Then she lowered her lips to kiss the warm skin of his chest
. 
He sucked in a ragged breath, but then h
e looked down, and the moonlight showed the dark smears of blood against the white of her thigh.  Virgin’s blood.  He had taken what
did not belong to him, what
should have belonged to her husband.

             
“I am sorry”, he said again, softly
, tracing the smear lightly with his
finger.
  And he was.  In his all-consuming need for her, he hadn’t even taken the time for her pleasure. 
It was the least he could have done. 
He had been completely lost in a
primitive
drive to
mate, to
claim, to possess.

             
“Why are
you
sorry?”

             
He raised a hand
t
o caress her cheek.  “This can’t
be, between
you
and me…
it can’t
be.”
  It ripped his heart out to say those words.

             
“Why,
Ceann
?” she asked in a whisper.

             
“I made a vow.  When I found out…
I made a vow.  I won’t marry.  I won’t
bring another the sorrow I’ve had to bear.”  He turned away from her to stare at the sky, as if all had been said with those few words.

             
Stubborn man
.  “Who did
you
vow this to?”

             
“Myself.”

             
“Ah.  Well, then it’s a vow that
will
be easy enough to break,
should
you
want
to.”  She drew her hand over his chest, lazily caressing him, running her thumb over his nipple.

             
His breath quickened.  “I won’t
.  I’ve…
made up my mind.
  A long time ago.  Nothing has changed.
”

But she
had
felt
the power she held over him. 
It would not take her long to learn to wield it
like the finest sword
.  She wanted to
stay with him, care for him…
love him
. 
He would be hers, even if she had to tame him first,
gentle the
fierce
warrior to her touch
.  The
image
made her smile. 

             
“I don’t care about
your vow
, Ceann.  I only want
you
.  Take me, claim me
, make me yours in truth.  If it’s children you’re worried about, we can adopt as many as you’d like as our own…”

             
He drew in a long breath, but then shook his head. 
“No.  I… No.”

             
She drew her thigh slowly up the length of his leg, and leaned closer to place little kisses just below his ear, while her hand slid lower across his stomach until her fingers grazed the tip of him.  He was already hard again.

             
“Then make love to me, one more time…
one last time
, if that’s all you’ll give me
.”

             
He groaned as his most primitive instincts fought with his conscious, tearing him apart. 
Her touch felt so good on his bare skin, soothing him, arousing him.   W
hen her hand closed around him, instinct won, and he was again mindless with
desire for her
.  He covered her mouth with his, as hungry for her as if it had been a year, instead of minutes, since he had taken her last.  But this time
he forced himself to hold back.  The least he could do after taking her maidenhead was to show her how a man could use his body to bring pleasure to a woman. 
In truth, the very thought of pleasuring Ella made him
crave her with an even greater intensity than before
. 

             
H
e caressed and teased her with his hands and mouth until she panted and writhed beneath him. 
This
would
be the last time he ever took her, and he at least wanted to leave her with memories of pleasure, not of pain. 
He wanted to scream with the intensity of it all, he wanted to take her again and again until the emotions and the
desire
swirling inside of him finally subsided.  He had never dreamed that such as this existed.

             
Her breath was coming in little gasps now, and he could wait no longer. 
He took her again, and
once more
overwhelming pleasure consumed him.  She met his passion with her own, wrapping her legs around him, trying to pull him even closer.  When he felt her body tighten around him, he let go
at last
, spilling himself
into her with a roar, feeling her come with him.  The moment was too much for him to bear. 
It was too overwhelming, too perfect. 
He felt for an instant that all was right, that she belonged to him, that their very souls had touched in that one rush of pure bliss. 
He wanted to cradle her in his arms now, whisper sweet words in her ear, tell her all the dark secrets of his heart. 
Then
his own
reality hit him like a fist in the gut.
It was all an illusion, this night.  And he had taken her innocence, something he had no right to do.
He
abruptly
rolled away from her and began gathering their discarded clothing.

             
“Get dressed.  We need to get back to the camp.”  He needed time alone, to think.  If he stayed here with her any longer, he might just be lost forever.

             
Though his
stomach
clenched at the hurt look on her face
that she could not quite hide
, he forced himself to look away and put on his clothing. 
She followed him in silence
back to the camp, and he saw her safely to her tent.

             
“Good night
, Ella
”, was all he said.
  He knew she stood and watched him walk away…
but this time it was
without his heart
.

 
Chapter 13

             
He
had
thought that once he had taken her, the burning need would go away.  He
had
thought that it was denying himself her body that made h
im want her so badly;
but he
had been
wrong. 
It was worse no
w.  In fact it was excruciating
.
 
He now seemed to be preternaturally aware of her every move. 
And her every move only
served to remind him of the way her body had felt against his, of the pure bliss he had felt in her arms
, the soothing warmth of her touch
.
 
 

             
Lying in his bed
back at Tulloch
, unable to sleep,
Ceann
’s
mind wandered back to a time when he
had
thought e
verything
in his life
was falling into place. 
Just before all had gone so wrong. 
He had
sat proud and tall on his horse as he rode for home at the head of the small band of
highland
warriors, victorious once more in their latest
conquest
.
  He felt
strong and
invincible, and h
e thought of the future
, and how glorious it would be
.  One day he would be Laird,
and all of this
he looked upon
would be his domain.   H
e would ride home to be greeted by his people, and then
by
his wife, standing on the steps
of
the keep, his child in her arms, and another
two or three
clinging to her skirt.  She would smile and he would
laugh and
sweep her up into a passionate kiss
, then lean down to kiss each of his bairns
in turn
.
Beautiful daughters and strong, strapping sons.
He would tell her of the battle while she tended his wounds, then he would
carry her off to their chamber
…
  He had never been able to quite picture her face,
this future wife,
but he knew she would be beautiful and charming, and he would consider himself
very
lucky to have her as his own.
 

             
Later,
on that long-ago day, after he had
washed and rested, he went to speak with his father
, Artair
,
in the study.  Laird Tulloch was still a fine figure of a man
then
.  Handsome and well muscled, he looked much younger than his years.
  He ruled the cl
an with an iron fist, but also with fairness and honor. 
Ceann
had looked up to him for as long as he could remember.  But this day,
his father looked weary.  His face was drawn as if he hadn’t slept, and his mouth turned down at the corners just a little.  “
Ceann
, son, come in and sit down.”