The Arrow: A Highland Guard Novel (The Highland Guard) (27 page)

Cate felt like she had died and gone to heaven. Surely that was what it must feel like to float among the clouds. Well, perhaps not float. Shoot, soar, and tumble was probably more accurate.

Her body was still tingling when her gaze cleared enough to see him propped over her. His face was strained and tortured in the shadows. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss him, but she didn’t have any bones left.

The warmth of his hand left her body as he started to work the ties of his braies.

Curiosity perked her up a little, as she looked down just in time to see him free himself.
Good God!
She flicked her tongue nervously over her lip as she took in the thick column of flesh that seemed even bigger and more powerful than when she’d been holding him. It might have been carved from marble, it was just as shiny, polished, and perfectly formed as the rest of him.

He made a tortured sound low in his throat. “Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and this is going to be over before it has started.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but it sounded like she was doing something right. “Do you like it when I look at you?”

He bit out a laugh, mumbled something like “hell yes,” and then looked at her with that bone-melting, knee-weakening smile of his that had probably felled more hearts than she wanted to think about—including her own—and answered simply, “Aye.”

A wicked and, she suspected, very cat-like gleam came to her eye. “You liked it when I touched you also, didn’t you? Can I do it again?”

He swore, and seemingly incapable of saying anything else, he nodded. She wrapped her hand around him, momentarily shocked by the warmth and velvety softness, which seemed impossible given how hard he was. He was
like marble all right, with a thin, velvety layer on top. But hot marble with a life beating underneath.

“Does it hurt?”

“God, no.”

The muscles in his stomach and arms holding him over her tensed as she started to explore his length, tentatively at first and then with growing boldness as his increasingly strained growls of pleasure encouraged her. She wanted to grip him, so she did, and the results were rather spectacular. His expression transformed into something so rapturous, she felt like a goddess.

After moving her hand up and down a few times the way he’d shown her how to do before, however, she felt his hand clamp down on hers.

“No more.” His jaw was clenched, his gaze was distant yet his eyes were full of concentration, and every muscle of his body seemed drawn up tight like he was fighting some kind of secret battle.

She pulled her hand away. “Did I do something wrong?”

His gaze met hers. “What you are doing is perfect. But I want to make this last, and if you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to do that.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but the admission made her heart swell and her body go soft all over. She smiled, reached up, circled her hands around his neck, and dragged his mouth down to hers.

It was as if a dam had burst. All the passion he’d been holding back as he brought her pleasure came rushing out in a torrent of raw need. His body came down hard on top of hers. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his as he settled himself between her legs and kissed her.

It seemed the most natural thing to have him on top of her. To have their bodies stretched together, legs twined, chest to chest, hip to hip. To have the thick, solid weight of him wedged between her thighs.

Good lord, he felt good.
Everything
felt good.

The sensations built again. Faster and hotter this time, as she now knew where it was leading. He was kissing her so perfectly, with long, deep strokes of his tongue that beckoned to a primitive place inside her. Her hips started to lift and circle against him. Her body started to tingle. The need for friction and pressure grew at a frenzied pace. She grabbed hold of his shoulders as if he were a rock to anchor her in the storm building around her.

But he pulled her back before she broke apart again. “Not yet. I want to be inside you this time.”

Her chemise was twisted around her legs, and it took him a moment to find the edge to lift it.

“This damned thing is in my way.” He gave her a boyishly impatient look. “Next time it’s coming off.”

Despite the blush that rose to her cheeks at the thought of being naked in front of him, she couldn’t help but smile.
Next time
.

Positioning himself between her legs, his eyes held hers. She couldn’t have spoken if she wanted to. The emotion of the moment had not only swelled her heart, it had also swelled her throat.

She’d dreamed about this for so long, but never had she imagined it would be so perfect.

“It might hurt a little,” he warned.

But the warning was lost in the storm of sensation that followed, as the thick head of his manhood started to nudge inside her with a gentle rocking motion of his hips. He moved like a dream. It felt like a dream. The connection was everything she’d imagined and more. She felt possessed. Claimed. Filled. Bound to him in a primitive way that could never be undone.

But it wasn’t without some discomfort.

“God, you feel so good,” he said tightly, his gaze once again filled with intense concentration. He was being gentle with her—patient—and clearly it wasn’t easy for him.

“Good” wasn’t the word she would use. He felt … big.
As in “perhaps he was the wrong size for her” big. She tensed as her body struggled to take him in.

“Almost there, sweetheart. God, I’m sorry …”

She didn’t need to ask for what. He held her gaze and gave one last determined push. She gasped, not only at the sensation of him seated fully inside her, but at the sharpness of the pinch.

Hurt a little? Her body screeched at the invasion.

But not for long. He started to kiss her again, murmuring all these sweet things against her mouth and near her ear—which tickled and made her shiver at the same time—about how he was sorry, how it would go away, and how he was going to make her feel good—really good.

He was right.

After a few minutes she forgot about the pain, and no longer felt like a wall that had had its defenses breached with a battering ram. The tension eased with his tender kisses and words, and discomfort was replaced by something else—arousal. A small flutter at first, and then a much larger one as he started to move. Slow and easy in the beginning, getting her used to the motion, and then a little harder and deeper.

He was kissing her still, his body sliding over hers with each stroke. The feel of all that radiating masculine power, all that strength, moving over her—inside her—was incredible. It made her want to move with him.

Which she did. Much, apparently, to his approval. Aye, she could hear the sounds of just how much he liked it with every thrust of his hips, marked by a fierce grunt that sent a wicked shiver of pleasure slithering down her spine.

She’d expected the intimacy and connection—though hadn’t realized the intensity—but she’d never realized how
physical
lovemaking would be. Not unlike the training she did in the yard. The more of her body she put into it, the better it felt.

He was working hard, too. His body was warm and
slick with exertion—and getting warmer and slicker by the minute. Surprisingly, she liked it. She liked feeling his muscles bunch under her hands as he thrust into her, she liked bracing herself to absorb the impact, and she liked feeling the fiery heat of his passion under her fingertips.

He even smelled good. Of course he did, she thought with a smile. Even sweat smelled clean on Gregor MacGregor. The heat only seemed to enhance the subtle masculine spice of his skin. It made her want to press her nose against him and inhale, letting the arousing scent pour over her.

He looked so dark and fierce, and so incredibly gorgeous, that when their eyes met—and held—her heart squeezed with so much happiness, the poignancy was so sharp and intense it was almost painful.

He was beautiful, what he was doing to her was beautiful, and she loved him so much it hurt.

He must have recognized the look because his gaze softened.

“Are you all right?”

She smiled. “Better than all right. It feels amazing.”

“Just wait,” he said with a slow smile. “It’s about to get even better.”

She knew he was a man she could rely on. He was good to his word.

He slowed his thrusts, moving his hips in a long, circular stroke that started out slow and easy, and then went faster and deeper, making her moan every time their bodies came together and sending a fresh wave of sensation tingling between her legs.

God, he was incredible. His body was like an instrument of pleasure, every move, every stroke, calculated to hit the perfect note.

He knew exactly how to bring her pleasure, and he did—almost more than she could take. She could hear the music building in her ears. The beating of her heart,
the quickening of her breath, the echo of their moans as they pounded together toward the final beat. Toward one spectacular crescendo.

“Oh God!” he bit out between gritted teeth.

Their eyes met. She saw the exultation fill his gaze at the same moment the sensation claimed her. Their bodies stiffened together in that one timeless pause before breaking apart in a shattering ray of stars and light. Their cries weaved and tangled together, as a hot rush of pleasure came over them in wave after powerful wave.

When the sensation finally ebbed, it was as if every ounce of energy and emotion had been wrung out of her. Spent and exhausted, Cate curled herself into the warmth of his body and like a well-fed, contented cat, promptly fell asleep.

It took Gregor a moment to realize where he was. The last thing he remembered before closing his eyes was thinking how ironic it was that the first time he actually wouldn’t mind hearing how wonderful (explosive, mind-blowing, and earth-shattering also seemed appropriate) their lovemaking had been, the lass snuggled up against him had fallen into the sleep of the dead. When he opened his eyes in the cool, dark chamber, the warm presence at his side was gone.

Where the hell did she go?
He looked around in confusion and disbelief, followed quickly by irritation. Bloody hell, didn’t she know it was rude to slip out of bed and run away without saying something first? Something like “Thanks for the most incredible night of my life, Gregor,” or “You were amazing, Gregor,” or “I love you, Gregor.” Aye, especially that. He rather thought he would like to hear it again, especially when he was feeling so contented. Nay, not contented,
happy
. Maybe happier than he’d ever been in his life.

Making love to Cate had been every bit as incredible as
he’d thought it would be physically, but it had gone beyond that.
Far
beyond that, taking him to a place he’d never been before. A place where he’d like to be holding her in his arms right now!

Minutes passed—at least twenty of them. Bloody hell, where was she? If anyone should be sneaking away in the darkness, it should be him. This was her room, damn it!

He’d tossed off the bedsheets and was starting to look around the floor for his braies when the door opened. He straightened and turned, seeing the object of his irritation shadowed in the doorway, frozen in her tracks. She seemed surprised, but he wasn’t sure whether it was at seeing him awake or the fact that he was standing naked in her room.

He rather suspected it was the latter when after the stunned pause, she made no secret of her interest—her
great
interest—in every facet of his body. Good God, the lass shouldn’t look at him like that unless she was prepared to act on all that lust she was casting in his direction. He was liable to forget that he needed to leave, and that she was probably in no condition to be ravished after the ravishing of the night before.

Her face fell as he drew on his braies. “You’re leaving? You can’t go yet.”

The vehemence of her protest took an edge off some of the sting of waking up to find her gone. “It will be morning soon. Where were you?”

She frowned, catching something in his tone. Closing the door behind her, she walked toward him. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I tried to be quiet.” She bit her lip, heat rising up her cheeks. “I needed to use the garderobe.”

“You were gone a long time.”

That probably wasn’t the most delicate thing he’d ever said in his life, but damn it, this was a new experience for him, and he was feeling …

Uncertain. As if he were sailing in unchartered waters. He’d never been in a situation like this before. A situation
where he needed to know that everything was all right. Nay, better than all right. He needed to know that she was all right, that he hadn’t hurt her, that it had been just as incredible for her as it had been for him.

The heat in her cheeks deepened. “There was some blood. I used a cloth and the pitcher of water in your room, so as to not disturb you. Did I do something wrong? Are you angry with me about something?” Her mouth trembled as she looked up at him.

“Ah, Christ,” he said, drawing her into his arms. The feeling of warmth and contentment that he’d missed upon waking returned instantly. He was acting like a scorned lass. “I’m sorry. Nothing is wrong, and of course I’m not angry with you.” He tipped her chin, bringing her luminous eyes to his. “What would I have to be angry with you about?”

She gnawed on that wickedly crimson bottom lip a few more times before responding. “I thought you might be regretting what … what we did.”

His gaze held hers intently. “I don’t regret anything that happened last night.” His thumb caressed the part of her lip that had just been bitten. “How could I?”

The smile started out slow, but it didn’t take long to light her whole face. The warmth radiated inside him as well.

“I’m glad. It was … wonderful,” she finished with a sigh. Her grin turned cheeky. “I guess I’d forgotten how cranky you can be in the morning.”

He drew back. “Cranky? I’m not cranky.”

She arched one delicate, dark brow.

All right, well, maybe he was occasionally—though very rarely—a little out of sorts in the morning. But not today. “I just wasn’t expecting to wake up alone.”