Highlander Unchained (34 page)

“But surely we will need more time to prepare for the celebration?” she asked.

He could barely think; his senses were overwhelmed with the scent, the feel, and the touch of her. “I won’t wait a moment longer than necessary to make you my wife. I’d do it today if it were possible. As it is not, we will be married on Sunday.” Four days hence. He could wait four damn days.

Her hand slid over his stomach and dipped. Or maybe not.

“Hmm. It seems a long time to wait.” Her fingers traced the taut muscles, skimming dangerously close to his erection. He couldn’t breathe. “For no real reason.”

Was there a reason? None he could think of right now. She had him so damn aroused, lust was doing his thinking. All he could think about was making love to her until they collapsed in an exhausted heap. Until he bound her to him so that she could never deny their feelings. Maybe making love again would help.

She gazed up at him, her expression suddenly uncertain. He knew she was confused by his apparent reluctance when he’d been doing everything in his power to seduce her the past few days. Hell, he was confused by it, too.

“You meant what you said, didn’t you?”

He smoothed the lines of worry between her brows with the soft press of his lips. “Aye, lass. I meant it.” That was what was making this so difficult.

“You love me?”

“With all my heart.”

Her eyes sparked. “Then show me.”

He would, damn it. It was a challenge he could not resist. Lachlan wasn’t a man used to spouting pretty words to express his emotions—and even if he were, there were no words for what he was feeling right now. When he looked at her, he felt as if he’d been given the greatest prize in the kingdom—her love. She made him feel invincible. He wanted to tell her what he was feeling, but he didn’t know where to begin. Words were not his way, but he could show her.

He would make love to her until she could never doubt it.

She was his.

He slid his hand behind her neck, savoring the warmth and the heavy drape of her silky soft hair, and brought her mouth to his in a hungry kiss—a kiss that had been too long denied. There was nothing poignant or teasing about this kiss; this time he took her with a savageness that only hinted at the raging passion burning inside him. Passion that was part abstinence, part fear, part frustration, and all desire.

He groaned against her mouth, savoring the exquisite softness of her lips and skin, the subtle fragrance that surrounded her, the sweet taste of her…God, it had been too long. He kissed her harder, clasping her against him as his tongue delved deep into the honey recesses of her mouth. She opened against him, taking him deeper, returning the thrust of his tongue with her own—her response every bit as carnal as his. The little sounds of pleasure escaping from her lips urged him on. Her body seemed molded to his, every curve, every crevice, dissolving all that came between them.

He kissed her mouth, her chin, her neck, savoring the delicious taste of her skin. But it wasn’t enough—he wanted her naked on his bed so he could devour every luscious inch of her.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her the few steps to his bed, laying her down gently. Then, slowly, he slid off her robe, stopping her when she tried to pull a sheet over herself.

“No. Let me look at you.” He wanted to hold on to this moment forever. To remember exactly how she looked lying on his bed, ready for him to take her. She was achingly beautiful—her blond hair shimmering in the candlelight, her flawless ivory skin as smooth as alabaster, her delicate, heart-shaped face dominated by those luminous blue eyes.

He slipped his fingers through the silk of her hair fanned out behind her head on the fluffy feather pillow and then traced her swollen lips with his thumb. His gaze moved down the length of her body, and a swift kick of lust hit him hard. Her body was incredible. Built for a man’s pleasure with her lush round breasts, the pale nearly transparent skin tipped by nipples the mouthwatering pink of ripe berries. Unable to resist, he leaned over and took one luscious tip in his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth. She moaned with pleasure, and he forced himself to release her, not yet done with his study.

Her stomach was flat and her hips softly curved. He slipped his hand around her waist, almost spanning her. And that bottom…He moved his hands around to cup her. He’d been pressed against that soft bottom too many times this past week, he knew exactly how she felt against him. Later, he would appease her curiosity and show her exactly how it worked. How he could fill her from behind.

Her legs. Damn, her legs went on forever. Long and lean, with perfectly sculpted calves. Even her feet were small and delicately arched, with adorable pink toes.

He’d seen many naked women in his life, but none had ever affected him so. It wasn’t just her beauty that overwhelmed him, or the lust he felt for her, it was something more fundamental. Something that went to the very core of him and filled his chest with an incredible warmth. Something he hadn’t even known he was looking for, but now that he’d found it, he couldn’t imagine being without. Losing her would be like cutting himself in half. How had it happened so damn fast without his realizing it?

“Lachlan…”

He saw the embarrassment flooding her face pink. Her natural spirit and confidence sometimes made him forget just how truly innocent she was. “You’re so beautiful. It gives me pleasure to look at you.”

Her gaze slid over his naked chest and down his stomach to the heavy bulge in his trews. “I can see that.”

He smiled. “You’re a bold lass.”

She returned his smile. “Only with you.”

A fierce wave of possessiveness swept over him. The enormity of what she’d given him hit him hard.

“You humble me,
mo ghradh.
” My love.

She reached up and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear; the happiness sparkling in her eyes made his chest ache.

“I’m so happy. I love you so much. I can’t believe that you feel the same.”

“Never doubt it,” he said fiercely. “No matter what happens, Flora, never doubt my feelings for you.”

The vehemence of his voice startled her; he saw the sudden flash of uncertainty in her gaze. “What could possibly happen?”

He cursed his uncharacteristic display of emotion. “Nothing,” he assured her, and started to unfasten his trews. “But after tonight, I promise you will never doubt my love for you again.”

Flora shuddered with anticipation. The sensual promise in his voice set her blood aflame. She had no doubt he meant every word.

But it was his eyes that touched her heart. No man had ever looked at her with such all-consuming intensity—with raw hunger, possessiveness, and reverence all at the same time. His eyes caressed her nakedness, making her feel special—loved—as if she were the most beautiful, most precious woman in the world.

When she’d first entered his room, she’d felt a moment of uncertainty, sensing his reluctance. It was really quite sweet, his wanting to wait until they were wed. She smiled. Who would have thought her wild Highlander would be beset by sudden propriety?

But she didn’t want to wait until they were married. She couldn’t wait a moment longer. His reverent touch and devouring gaze had made every inch of her tingle with need. The shattering sensations he’d awakened in her the last time teased the edges of her memory but were still too new to be fully recalled. She felt that strange restlessness building inside her, the powerful urgency. She ached for his mouth, his hands, his fullness inside her. For the fulfillment of his promise.

His naked chest gleamed like polished bronze in the candlelight. The rock-hard muscles of his arms and stomach were so clearly defined, they could have been chipped from slate. She would never cease to be impressed by his size and strength. Noticing the fresh bandage, she frowned.

He’d started to unfasten his trews, but she grabbed his wrist, stopping him, realizing there might have been another reason for his reluctance tonight. “Your arm. It is not bothering you?”

“It’s fine.”

“You had it stitched?”

He nodded. “The healer tended to it after the evening meal.”

“Oh.” The healer. He meant Seonaid. She bit her lip, knowing she was being ridiculous but unable to resist the surge of jealousy that his leman had touched him and admired the same chest she did. He might claim to love her, but he’d never made any promises of fidelity. Nor would such an arrangement be expected, except that she found she did—very much so. The thought of him with another woman tore her heart out. She vowed to do everything she could to ensure he never wanted anyone else but her. But how?

“Why the frown, my sweet?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She released her hold around his wrist, encouraging him to continue.

He laughed and kissed the frown from her mouth. “Jealous, Flora? You have no reason.”

“I’m not jealous.”

He smiled, the familiar handsome features devilishly sharp and angled in the shadows.

Her eyes narrowed, not appreciating his expression. “It’s not the least amusing. How would you like it if I were alone in a bedchamber with a man with whom I’d shared intimacies?” It gave her no small amount of pleasure to see his eyes turn black.

“I’d kill him. And since I am the only man you shall ever be intimate with, the issue shan’t arise.”

“And does the same hold true for you, my laird? You’ll find I won’t be a very accommodating wife.”

It took him a moment to get her meaning, and then he chuckled. “Lass, your fears are unfounded. When I make a vow, I keep it.”

She stilled, not daring to hope. “You will not take a leman?”

He held her gaze. “I would never dishonor you.”

Flora didn’t think she could be happier, but she was wrong. At that moment, it felt as if the world were at her feet. Forgetting her state of undress, she leaned up and threw her arms around his neck.

The shock that coursed through her was as powerful as lightning. The heat of his skin drove all other thoughts from her mind but the wicked sensation of her bare breasts pressed against the solid strength of his naked chest.

She moaned and snuggled against him, wanting to dissolve into him, loving the delicious friction of rubbing against his smooth, warm skin.

His mouth was on hers again, hot and demanding. She opened against his determined onslaught, taking him deeper and deeper. She splayed her hands against the taut skin of his back, digging in her fingers as the kiss intensified. An inexplicable urgency rose up inside her.

His hands covered her, cupping her breasts, squeezing as his tongue circled and thrust in her mouth. The sensual rhythm sent shards of white hot pleasure shooting through her body. She felt her body dampen as desire spread between her legs.

He released her mouth and slowly kissed his way down to her chest. Taking his own sweet time, drawing out every sensation as his lips and tongue blazed a path across her fevered skin. His mouth was so warm and the night air so cool, her skin tingled in his wake. He kissed her ear, her neck, the hollow at her throat, and finally he dipped between her breasts, licking and nuzzling with the gentle scrape of his beard as he teased her mercilessly with the deft stroke of his tongue—coming achingly close to the sensitive tip, but never close enough.

He was killing her. Her nipples were so tight that they hurt, straining for the pleasure of his mouth. He circled the taut peaks with his tongue, and the warmth of his breath blowing across her chest made her shiver. Finally, when she didn’t think she could take it a minute longer, he took her in his mouth and sucked. She moaned, arching against him. The bolt of pleasure that went through her seemed to link his mouth to her heart. She plunged her fingers through the soft wave of his hair, pulling him closer. He sucked her until she writhed against him. Until she felt the place between her legs start to quiver.

She experienced a moment of disappointment when he released her, his mouth sliding down the length of her belly. But then she remembered what he’d done to her last time. How he’d kissed her in the most intimate of places.

Perhaps, knowing what he intended, she should object. Surely such a kiss was wicked? But she found herself unable to fight the virulent demands of her body. Demands made all the more pressing as he sank lower and lower, until his head rested between her legs.

He kissed the top of her thigh, and she shuddered. His finger swept her, as if testing her readiness. She’d never been more primed for anything. She was wet and hot and aching for the soothing press of his mouth. It was all she could think about. How it felt to have him kiss her, slide his tongue inside her, and suck. Desire pooled low in her belly with a fiery intensity that would not be denied. His hands slid around to grip her hips, lifting her to his mouth.

She couldn’t wait. Her body wept for his touch.

Their eyes met as his tongue swept over her. The shock made her cry out as intense bolts of pleasure racked her with tremors. He licked her again, pressing a little harder against the now frantic pulse.
God, it felt amazing.
So warm and hot and deliciously erotic. She melted as a heavy warmth descended over her.

And then he was sucking her, slipping his tongue deep inside her until she thought she would die from the intensity of sensation building inside her. Until the quivering turned into spasms. Until the pressure inside her started to shatter. The force of her release was so intense, she cried out, lifting her hips and dissolving into his mouth. He held her there, wringing every last bit of pleasure from her. Only then did he release her.

Flora was utterly spent, her body warm and heavy, as though she could slip into a deep slumber. But she knew this was only the beginning. Lachlan had risen to his knees and started to unfasten his trews again when she stopped him.

“Let me.” She needed to touch him and feel the sheer power harnessed under her fingertips.

He lowered his hands. The heat in his eyes made her feel warm and tingly all over again.

Sitting up, she let her eyes roam over the powerfully sculpted chest that loomed before her—a warrior’s body. The wide shoulders, the heavily muscled arms from years of wielding the claymore, the scars that peppered his torso giving proof of the battles he’d fought—and won. Never would she have imagined the strength of her attraction to such raw physicality. But there was no denying the primal response to his muscled body and the warm shiver of anticipation running through her. But the powerful physical attraction paled in comparison with the love she felt for the man.