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Authors: Dawn Halliday

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BOOK: Highland Surrender
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He made a strangled sound. His hands wrapped in the strands of her hair. Ceana wanted to bring him pleasure, and she loved the feel of him deep in her mouth. She loved how he tugged on her hair, and she loved pushing his cock deep against her throat and then, reaching her limit, pulling back until her lips rimmed his crown. Ceana gripped his thighs and worked her mouth over him, closing her eyes as she felt him grow ever larger against her lips.
Suddenly he pulled away. “On your knees.”
He crawled behind her as she went to her knees and leaned forward to rest her weight on her forearms.
“Oh!” She gasped when his fingers spread her arse cheeks and his mouth covered her. He stiffened his tongue, darting it in and out of her channel. She wiggled and tilted her hips, giving him better access.
As his mouth explored her, he tentatively brushed his thumb over her topmost hole. Only one man had touched her there before, and it was the most sensitive spot on her body, perhaps due to the forbidden nature of it.
She pushed against his questing finger, urging him onward. But he pulled back and raised his head.
She flung an arch glance over her shoulder and met his gleaming eyes. The look he gave her was intimate, and it was wicked. Knowing. Telling her he knew exactly what she wanted and promising that he would deliver.
Holding her hips, he jerked her body against him. The cheeks of her arse cradled the rigid length of his cock, and she moved, rubbed over him. Then he released her with one hand. With the other, he guided his cock down her cleft, pausing at that forbidden spot.
Ceana held her breath and tensed in anticipation of the invasion. Still holding her so tightly she couldn’t move, couldn’t push herself down over him, he teased gently at her opening. Ceana gritted her teeth.
He moved lower, finding the slick, spasming notch of her sex. With a long, smooth stroke, he buried himself within her. He began a rhythm of deep glides, and his thumb returned to the area just above the place where his cock shuttled into her, at first rubbing gently, and then, with a long, inward stroke, sinking deep inside her.
Ceana came instantly, her body jerking from the shock of the double penetration. Tiny crackling flares erupted deep within her, and she shuddered as they swept through her body. He didn’t allow her to come down; instead he began a rhythm of deep thrusts with both thumb and cock. The flares thinned, but they didn’t stop. Instead they built, coalesced until a ball of flame blazed deep inside her.
Cam thrust harder, deeper, making harsh exhalations with every push into her body. The ball of flame retracted, tightened, became so hot and so dense Ceana thought it might burn her from the inside out.
“Oh!” she gasped. With every thrust, Cam pushed all the air from her body.
His fingers tightened on her hip, and the ball exploded into flames that licked over her skin, beneath it, through her veins. Cam held her tight as she shuddered, and his thrust gentled. He leaned over her, crooning lovingly into her ear.
The fire simmered within her now, and her muscles shook with the effort of holding her body up. Gently, he pulled out of her and laid her on her stomach, tucking one of the round, puffy pillows beneath her hips.
She turned her head to look at him. “I want you inside me again.”
“Yes.” Already, he’d knelt between her legs and his cock nudged at her entrance. She tilted her pelvis to allow him access.
He slid home, and she released a sigh of pleasure. She was sensitive and hot and raw, but he filled her, took away the feeling of emptiness.
He leaned down over her, his breath whispering in her ear, his chest flush against her back. She loved the press of his warm skin against hers. It felt so right. So perfect. So good.
After her orgasm, she was supple and languid. She felt like a warm, smooth river, encompassing him, caressing him. Within moments, his cock hardened and began to pulse. His muscles tightened, banded around her. And then he thrust hard, once, and his cock contracted deep within her, filling her with his seed.
He slumped down beside her and, as she curled into a ball on her side, he curved his body protectively around her. Delirious with satisfaction, they both sank into a deep sleep.
 
When Ceana opened her eyes, the first vestiges of a gray dawn leaked lazily in through the shuttered windows. She stretched and yawned, noting the pleasant soreness of her body.
“Mmm.”
Cam’s hand slipped over her waist and then rose to stroke her breast. “Come home with me today.”
“Why?” she murmured.
“I want you with me.”
She tried not to go stiff. She chuckled. “Impossible.”
“I’ve decided not to marry Elizabeth.”
She flipped over to face him, her eyes wide. “But you must!”
Lord, she should have expected this after all that had happened. But even late last night he’d seemed intent on making Elizabeth his wife. From his words alone, she’d assumed she was safe. What a fool she was.
“You must marry her!”
“Why do you say that? We’re not even married yet and she has betrayed me. What kind of wife will a woman like that make?”
She reached forward, cupping her hands over his shoulders, and tried not to attempt to shake some sense into him. “You have betrayed her as well.”
“That’s different.”
She raised a brow. “Is it?”
Impatiently, he pushed a hand through his hair. “Hell, Ceana—”
“You must marry her.”
“Why?”
Fear for the young woman—for all of them—rose in her chest. “You mustn’t tell her uncle about what happened, Cam. You mustn’t tell anyone.”
“I have no intention of telling anyone. She is a young, well-bred English lady. If word of her indiscretion spread . . .” He shook his head. “No. I see no reason to damage her reputation.”
“That is why you must marry her.”
“To save her reputation? That’s absurd. It is clear neither of us possesses a strong desire for the other. Why would we commit ourselves to a lifetime of unhappiness with each other just to salvage her reputation?”
“You will ruin her if you cancel the wedding.”
“Not necessarily. What if I kept quiet about her indiscretion and instead admitted to my own?”
Ceana’s hands slipped off his shoulders. She merely shook her head.
He reached forward and wrapped his hands around her neck, his expression intent, his eyes dark and serious. “What if I told them I no longer wanted Elizabeth? What if I told them I wanted someone else?”
She shook her head again, mute, panic clawing at her stomach.
“What if I told the world I wish to be with Ceana MacNab instead?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
 
 
C
am rode back to the castle in a fog. After they’d eaten a light breakfast, he’d taken Ceana home, where they’d found no trace of Sorcha or any of the others. A patient awaited Ceana at her door, however, an old man with a rattling cough, and her tension visibly melted away the moment she saw him. She’d jumped off the horse, given Cam a perfunctory adieu, and, with nary a glance back at him, ushered her patient inside.
She’d been silent and snappish the entire way to her cottage. Did it mean she didn’t want to be with him? Had he broached the topic inappropriately? He hadn’t openly offered her marriage. Was that what she wanted? A deeper promise? A lifetime commitment?
He’d never offered to marry Sorcha MacDonald, and that was how he’d lost her. He’d managed the situation with Sorcha like an ass, and he damn well didn’t want to repeat his mistakes now. He cared for Ceana too much. The thought of losing her forever was un fathom-able.
But what was the proper way to approach this? The events of last night—all of them—had proven to him that he cared for her beyond measure.
That thought clamped his chest so tight he wondered if he’d ever be able to take a deep breath again.
Nevertheless, as much as his gut commanded him to, he could not rush impulsively into a marriage with Ceana MacNab. He didn’t want to offer her something that would affect them so significantly without putting a great deal of thought into the repercussions. He had learned at least a few valuable lessons from the mistakes of his impetuous youth and his rash behavior with Sorcha.
Could Ceana give him the companionship he sought? The mutual affection he craved? Could they overcome the political backlash and the potential enmity of the Duke of Irvington? Was it an exaggeration to say that if he broke off his engagement to Elizabeth, it would ruin her life?
Could he take Ceana into society and among his peers? Could he make her happy?
Would she make him a better wife than Elizabeth?
Not politically. He sighed. Too many ties depended on his association with the Duke of Irvington. If he didn’t follow through with his engagement to Elizabeth, the most important and influential people in the world would be sorely disappointed in him. Ultimately, that could negatively affect not only him, but his tenants and all the residents of the Glen.
Perhaps that was why Ceana had fled. She was practical to a fault. She knew who they both were. She knew that in the social order in which they existed, their two worlds didn’t—
couldn’t
—overlap.
Yet Elizabeth had already betrayed him, and he’d betrayed her. The fact that both of them had already strayed did not bode well for the happiness of their marriage.
Still, he could not simply undo the betrothal and discard Elizabeth. There was too much at stake.
He rode for some time, his mind a garble, before he realized he was leading the horse in the wrong direction. Grimly, he turned back toward Camdonn Castle.
The sun had begun to descend in the misty afternoon sky when he passed through the castle gates and dismounted at the stables, where Robert MacLean approached to take his horse.
Cam gazed at the man who’d taken his betrothed against a cavern wall last night. Why couldn’t he conjure up a murderous rage? Was it because the man might be his brother? Was it because Cam didn’t possess any proprietary feelings for Elizabeth? Was it because he didn’t love her?
None of that should matter. She was still his betrothed. She still belonged to him. Despite that, as much as he tried to muster the requisite hate for Robert MacLean, he couldn’t find it in himself.
He handed the reins to Rob in silence and turned toward the keep, but the other man laid a hand on his arm. “A large group of your tenants arrived this morning. Charles Stewart and your manservant are with them.”
Cam tried to imagine the boyish Stewart and Duncan MacDougall, his aged valet, attempting to keep a hoard of angry Highlanders content in the confines of his study.
He rubbed his fingers over his temple. Between his feelings for Ceana, his confusion over Rob and Elizabeth, and his desire to make peace with his own people, his ability to manage it all was wearing thin.
He went directly to his study and was instantly bombarded by representatives of the poorest of his tenants, begging for work to exchange for overdue rents. Cam sorted through the Highlanders one at a time, and Charles helped him to match skills to the work most suited to each man.
Bram MacGregor hung back, waiting for everyone else’s concerns to be addressed before reporting that Hamish Roberts was sleeping out in the open, and his wife and children had been scattered among families who volunteered to house them a few days at a time.
“Why doesn’t Roberts make any attempt to care for his family? Why hasn’t he tried to keep them together?” Cam asked.
MacGregor sneered. “What does he possess to care for ’em with? He’s been evicted, left with nothing.”
Cam eyed MacGregor coolly. “He hasn’t petitioned me for work.”
“Because ye willna grant it.”
“No one knows that for certain until he tries.”
The fuming MacGregor strode toward the door, but Cam stopped him. “Why do you champion this man MacGregor? He is a thief, and I have it on good authority that he is a drunkard too.”
BOOK: Highland Surrender
2.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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