Time Everlastin' Book 5 (25 page)

A new rush of tears broke
through the dam of her control and she splashed more water on her
face.

"The unattainable," Broc
murmured.

Taryn lapped up the water
around her lips and eyed him pensively. "This is going to sound
crazy, I know, but...." Sighing, she sank onto her folded legs.
"When I first met him, I thought I had finally found
the
one. You know...my
soul mate? He made me feel things that no one had
before.

"I made a complete ass of
myself. I got this ludicrous notion in my head that, if I was that
attracted to him, he had to feel it toward me, too." She sighed
again, wearily. "I wasn't aware that I even wanted to love
someone—wanted to experience all those gooey emotions I hear people
talking about."

"Ye have never been in
love?"

"No. Too full of myself, I
guess. What about you?"

He grinned wistfully. "There
was a lass, Rilla, in ma village, I wanted as ma wife."

"Did she love
you?"

"She wanted
Kennaugh."

"Ah."

Silence fell upon them for a
time then Taryn said, "If I ever get out of here, I'm going to make
some serious changes in my life."

"To wha' end,
lass?"

"The betterment of one Taryn
Ingliss." She added wryly, "That should take about a
lifetime."

"Considerin' wha' ye have
gone through down here, I'd say ye were doin' yerself
proud."

"About your horse," she
said, taking Broc aback.

"Ma horse?"

"Yes. Why didn't you try to
escape on him when you were above ground?"

"Weel—"

"Wait!" Taryn jumped to her
feet and knelt by Broc's knees. "You escaped! How did
you—"

"Lass, I didna escape," he
said with a hint of impatience. "Afore ye came, I was allowed ou'
one night a month to collect the gifts ma clan above leaves
me."

"But you were out! Why come
back?"

"Tis abou' honor,
Taryn."

"Honor?" She released a near
hysterical laugh. "So you do know how to escape!"

"Karok willna let tha'
happen. Should I try, he would haul me back."

"Okay," she muttered, her
mind racing. "The next time he lets you go topside, I
could—"

"Taryn." His stern tone
plummeted her hopes. "There be only one way to earn yer
freedom."

She stared into his eyes,
her heart jack-hammering, tears pressing for release. "Make love
with you," she said dully.

Broc bolted to his feet,
startling her with the ferocity of his motion. His back to her,
feet apart, his hands balled into fists at his side, he said
harshly, "No' make love, womon! Just sex atween us!"

Feeling shaky and queasy,
she stood and stared at the back of his head, her tears flowing,
unchecked. "You said Karok had to believe it would hurt you once I
left. He's not a fool. You've made it perfectly clear you can't
stand me."

When he spun to face her,
his livid countenance gave her a jolt of fear. To hide its
presence, she accused, "You're just interested in sex! Admit it,
damn you! You know he won't release me.
You...just...want...
sex!"

"Still yer tongue,
womon!"

"I've been down here—what?—a
week...two weeks—"

"Five bloody long months!"
he snarled, gripping the top of his hair in both hands and yanking.
"Och, I do want ye!"

Taryn staggered back until
the wall stopped her, her breaths coming in hoarse spurts. "Five
months and no one has tried to find me?"

"Aye," he said, angry at
revealing this.

She hugged her trembling
body. "Five months?"

"I hated ye first. Hated yer
intrusion in ma pathetic life, and hated yer ability to stand up to
me."

He stepped toward her. "I be
only a mon. I think o' havin' ye in ma sleep and when I be awake."
He wagged a finger at her. "Yer damn compassion for Karok when he
was sick! That be when I weakened. The bloody beast wha' kept ye
down here, and ye concerned wi' his sufferin'! Bloody hell, I knew
ye were trouble from the beginnin'."

"I won't have sex with you,"
she wept.

"Ye can get past yer
revulsion o' me!" he bellowed, closing the distance between
them.

Taryn released a cry of
fright when he roughly pulled her into his arms. Before she could
stop him, the fingers of one hand entwined in the back of her hair
and her head was forced back. His mouth captured hers in a kiss
both punishing and unrelenting, sapping her strength and her will
to fight back. She wept within, railed within, and died within
until his arms encircled her quaking form with the tenderness of a
lover, and his kiss became less possessive and more
sensual.

The apathetic coldness that
had begun to take root in her heart, melted beneath an onslaught of
sensational warmth. Despite his existing facial hair, his mouth
evoked a passion in her none of her previous lovers had come close
to awakening. She clung to him. The solidity of his masculine body,
every plane and every contour, heightened her sexual awareness.
When his hands slid beneath her shirt and cupped her naked bottom,
hers crept beneath his kilt and conformed to his.

Nothing made sense at the
moment. Nothing mattered but each other.

Ending the kiss, Broc buried
his face against one side of her neck and murmured in Gaelic. Taryn
slipped her hands beneath his shirt and explored the muscled
flesh.

"I...need release," he said
huskily, straightened and peered into her eyes. "The pain
is...unbearable."

Taryn winced, and closed her
eyes when he pressed his erection against her abdomen. She
swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Her own body ached for release.
Ached for
him.

His hand released the ties
on her shirt and exposed one breast. When his palm slid over the
rigid nipple, she gasped at the spark of pleasure his touch
ignited. Her skin was feverish and tight, her mind floating from
her body.

His mouth took possession of
hers, demanding, coaxing, evoking a fiery passion low in her belly
that rapidly spread through her system like an intoxicating drug.
She clung to him, sexual hunger felling any remnant of resistance.
His kiss was masterful, probing, breaching the boundaries of her
experience.

Oh, God, why does this feel
so good? So right!

Broc stroked her buttocks,
stroked and kneaded before one hand slipped between her legs and
cupped one thigh. As if reading his mind, she lifted the leg. He
braced it then shifted his other hand beneath his kilt. Taryn
became dimly aware of pressure. When he glided into her moist
womanhood, burying himself fully, she broke the kiss on a gush of
air. He filled her completely, her muscles flexing around him as if
starved of sensation, starved of contact.

He kissed her again, harder,
dividing her attention during each controlled thrust. Never had she
felt as one with a man. Never part of the sun, the moon, the
stars—the universe. Every stroke of his engorged flesh soared her
beyond horizons of mere bliss. Sex did not enter the equation. Sex
was all she had ever known.

Sex and lust.

Somehow, this barbarian,
this man of mystery, questionable hygiene and seesawing
temperament, awakened the woman she hadn't known
existed.

She found herself staring
into his eyes, their depths drawing her into the man he had kept
hidden from her until now. Strain, torture and bliss racked his
features, his breathing labored.

An intense tingling ignited
inside her. Taryn tried to speak. Couldn't for lack of breath. The
sensation magnified, and magnified until it burst into a fiery
orgasm that swept to the tips of her toes and fingers in shuddering
wave upon wave.

A strangled cry escaped her
when another ignited, and his thrusts deepened, pushing her to
mindless ecstasy. The second orgasm possessed both fire and ice,
consuming her with almost frightening intensity. At its peak, he
cut his thrust and wrapped his arms about her tightly, experiencing
her tremors to his core.

Breathing in agonized
spurts, she managed, "Oh...God."

She released a mewl of
protest when he withdrew and stepped back. Panting, braced against
the wall, she stared at him, wondering if his intent was to run
off. Her gaze lowered to his heaving chest, then to the bulge
distorting the drape of his kilt.

As if he had all the time in
the world, he slipped out of his shirt and tossed it aside. Taryn's
eyes drank in the powerful breadth of his chest and shoulders, the
musculature of his arms, and the slimness of his waist. She no
longer saw his facial hair, only the heady masculinity of his
physique.

How had she not realized how
very male he was?

His kilt fell the way of his
shirt. He stood in all his naked majesty, a god among men, his eyes
conveying a message she readily divined. She peeled off her shirt
and flung it off to one side. Naked herself, she felt an
overwhelming shyness, as if his eyes alone had viewed her in this
state. They roamed her body like a caress, inducing shivers of
delight.

When his hand lifted, she
closed the distance and slipped hers into his warm clasp. He drew
her to him, his gaze never wavering from her eyes. Heated flesh and
muscle embraced her. His musky scent titillated her olfactory
nerves, heightening her sexual awareness.

"Ye are so wondrous," he
murmured by her ear.

"I need more of
you."

He kissed her with
deliberate slowness, a sensuality that hummed along her nerves. Her
hands caressed his back and shoulders, his firm buttocks. He
dragged his lips across her cheek and rasped, "Did I hurt
ye?"

"No."

Again, he looked deeply into
her eyes, as if skeptical of her reply. "I...have no'
released."

"I know," she smiled. "Does
this mean I get more of you?"

He grinned boyishly. "Twas
ma hope, lass."

He swept her up into his
arms and laughed when she squealed gleefully. After a long kiss, he
lowered her onto the leaves and positioned himself atop
her.

"Are ye sure? We barbarians
are a lustful lot."

Taryn framed his face and
lowered it to receive her kiss. When it ended, passion blazed in
his eyes. His mouth encircled her nipple and suckled, the texture
of his tongue alternately stroking. With a gasp of pleasure, she
stretched her arms above her head, and closed her eyes. She was
soon lost to his masterful exploration of her body with his hands
and tongue. By the time he pressed into her, she was beyond ready,
beyond sexual hunger, beyond need. Her hips met each thrust,
drawing him deeper inside her.

Not once did he lose his
rhythm. Muscles taut, body sleek with perspiration, he guided her
toward a greater ecstasy, despite her growing exhaustion, and his
own. His erection swelled even more inside her as the beginning of
a shudder built inside him.

Her third orgasm, the most
glorious of all, rode his own blistering tides of release. As one,
they traversed corporeal restraints and entered heavenly planes of
sensation. As one they soared through infinite realms of bliss
until at last, they gently floated back to earth, lying in each
other's arms.

Hours later, an internal
voice prodded Broc awake. He was instantly aware of Taryn's naked
and warm body beside him, her head upon the hollow of his left
shoulder, one arm and one leg draped across him.

The voice compelled him to
look toward the archway of Taryn's den. There, a stone-faced Karok
watched, leaving when tears slipped from the corners of Broc's
eyes.

Gawd help me,
Broc silently wept.
Wha'
have I done?

Chapter 13

The night teemed with
disquieting impressions. Lachlan stared at the hill in the
distance, his mind formulating the layout of the Callanish Standing
Stones. Although he was but a boy when he'd last seen them, the
image was stark clear, defying his fervent wish to banish them. The
knowing continued to set off his internal alarms. When he'd snuck
out of the MacLachlan home so long ago, to romp among the ancient
towering markers, neither the site nor the eerie soundless night
had frightened him. If anything, he'd known peace there. Known a
sense of belonging that, to this day, he didn't
understand.

He didn't sense peace
now.

And he definitely
didn't
belong.

Waves of air laden with
indecipherable murmurings crashed against his eardrums and deafened
him to all else. A bitter taste coated his tongue and a burning
sensation pinched the lining of his nostrils. An obstruction had
formed in his throat, pulsating in cadence with his erratic
heartbeat. The queasiness in his stomach intensified.

Fear.

He had never experienced it
quite to this degree.

"Lannie?"