He nuzzled her face, coaxing it up, his hot breath on her forehead, her nose, her cheek. His lips finally found hers, binding her to him as he plundered her mouth with searching sweeps of his tongue, his other hand rolling her pebbled nipples. Licks of fire shot out across her skin. She was rushing towards a climax, her body fizzing and expanding, like a shaken bottle of champagne.
He let go of her breast and pulled her dress to her waist, hooking his thumb under the side of her pants and dragging them down her thighs. He drew away and rested his forehead on hers.
‘You taste so sweet. God, I love you.’
Before she could reply, he dropped to his knees, tore her pants off, and spread her legs. She held onto him to keep herself upright as he licked his way up her inner thighs and flicked his tongue once over her clitoris. She jerked as the pleasure ricocheted through her body. He did it again and she cried out. There was no way she could remain standing. As if he could sense her onrushing climax, he brought his arms up underneath her thighs, holding her, as he clamped his mouth to her and began a relentless assault with his tongue.
She fell back against the door, letting her weight rest between the hard wood behind her and his strong arms beneath her. She pulled at his hair as the waves came faster and faster, closer and closer together. She could hear her voice crying out his name, see lights colliding and splitting behind her eyes. He hummed into her and the vibrations tipped her over the edge. She ground herself into him, as the orgasm obliterated her, slamming her body with wave upon wave of overwhelming pleasure, rolling on and on, battering her until she fell forward, delirious. He let her fall over him, then stood, carrying her over his shoulder to the bed and gently laying her down.
She stared up at him in wonder. He was a completely different species from any other man on the planet, like a pirate king who’d sailed in from faraway lands. He pulled her dress from where it had bunched up around her waist, up and off, then lay beside her, tracing and kissing her freckles.
‘How come I’m naked and you’re fully clothed? Again,’ she asked groggily.
He raised his head. ‘Well, on balance, most of the time I take my clothes off in front of you, you laugh,’ he said with a grin. ’So, it’s safer for my ego to remain dressed.’ He went back to kissing her, roaming his hands over her with long, languorous strokes. ‘Anyway,’ he continued. ‘Your body is beautiful, a miracle of nature. Mine’s just a bloke’s.’
Zoe sat up, pushed him onto his back and loosened his tie. ‘I disagree. I think you’re incredible. In every way. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I—’ she broke off blushing.
‘You what?’ he asked, tilting her chin up.
She ignored his question and continued with his clothes, undoing his shirt and pulling it off him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but the words seemed too inadequate, too small to express the enormity of her feelings.
‘You can say whatever you like to me, Zoe, you can tell me anything.’
She shook her head and undid the buckles of his kilt, opening the fabric and tugging it away. ‘So, it’s true that real Scotsmen are naked under their kilts?’ she said, taking his hard length and stroking up and down.
He hissed a long, slow breath out. ‘Do you think you can distract me like that?’ he asked, squeezing his eyes shut.
‘Yes. Is it working?’
Before he could answer, she leaned forward and sank her mouth down onto his cock, sucking him in deeply. He reacted as if he’d been shot, crying out and pulling away. ‘Jesus Christ. Holy shit, Zoe, I was not expecting that.’ He knelt on the bed, his hands fisting into his muscled thighs.
She crawled towards him. ‘Would you like me to do it again?’
He looked desperately at her. ‘Yes. No. Er. Not now. You’re not going to distract me,’ he said, sounding utterly flustered.
She licked her lips. ‘I think I’m going to easily distract you.’ She grinned and moved forwards.
In a flash she was on her back and he was on top of her. ‘Really now?’ he said, arching an eyebrow. ‘I think we know how threats like that end.’
She giggled helplessly as he locked her arms by her sides, kissing and nipping down her neck until he reached her breasts. He licked from one nipple to the other, sucking on them and tugging them into his mouth. He pushed her legs apart and settled between her thighs, grinding his hips into her with slow, insistent circles.
Her giggles turned into gasps as she writhed beneath him, throbbing heat pooling between her legs, desire uncoiling itself again within her. He lifted his head. ‘So, what did you want to tell me?’ he asked, huskily. He flicked his tongue over her nipple and she moaned.
‘I might be persuaded to talk if you were inside me,’ she murmured.
‘That can be arranged,’ he replied, reaching for the box of condoms by the side of the bed. He knelt between her legs, ripped open a packet and rolled one down over his cock. She opened her legs wider, tilting her hips up to him. He propped himself on his elbows, his chest hovering just above her. He kissed her lightly.
‘As you were saying?’ he whispered.
‘You’re not inside me.’ She frowned with frustration, and reached between their bodies.
Quick as a flash he moved, fixing her arms to the mattress. He rolled back on top, and the tip of his cock nudged at her opening. She bucked up to meet him and he moved away.
‘Are you trying to drive me crazy?’ she hissed at him.
He kissed her till she whimpered and nudged inside a little deeper. ‘I’m just returning the favour,’ he groaned.
She could hear his breathing changing, as he strained against the desire to bury himself inside her. He kept pushing in an inch, then retreating, as her muscles tightened around him. He brought his fingers down to her clitoris, rubbing her juices over the swollen nub, kissing her deeply. Sparks were shivering down her legs to the soles of her feet and up her chest to her throat. She was drowning in the middle of an ink-black ocean at night, fighting for air as shooting stars filled the sky, raining light down onto her.
He stared at her with passionate intensity. She felt the unbreakable connection between them. His cock nudged, rubbed and tormented her, as his fingers brought her towards another climax. His hand moved faster. Thunderclouds built, the wind picked up, and electricity rushed through her body. Rory was the storm, his eyes the lightning, his breath the wind. She was battered by desire, completely at his mercy.
Her legs widened, preparing to take in all he could give, pulses of energy building for a cataclysmic release. Her love for him, the words she wanted to say, bubbled up, pushing before them an unstoppable force of emotion. She couldn’t contain it any longer.
‘I love you,’ she cried. ‘I love you, Rory.’
His eyes widened and he plunged into her, stretching her, filling her, completing her. She stiffened and shattered into a million pieces of light, as her orgasm ripped through her body. She clenched her inner muscles tighter around him, the pleasure rolling through, wave after wave, exploding out through her skin, through the top of her head, obliterating her. He cried out above her, his own release pumping into her, as he gasped her name over and over again.
She had never experienced anything this intense before. The loss of all perspective, all rational thought, all sense of self. It was as if she had experienced the birth and death of the universe, the whole of time and space experienced in one perfect moment.
The sensations subsided and she drifted back into her body. The love she had for him overwhelmed her, pushing itself out in tears.
‘God, Zoe, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?’
She shook her head. ‘No, no you didn’t,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s just I love you so much.’
He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him and held her tightly. ‘Not as much as I love you,’ he replied.
He lent down and kissed her gently. ‘I’m sorry for everything, Zoe. For what I did, for how my parents treated your mum and Willie, for what my mother did
to you. I’ve spent my whole life chasing love and acceptance in all the wrong places. I should never have expected my parents to behave differently, to give more than they did.’
She pulled back from him, frowning. ‘Stop that right this second. Now you listen to me, Rory lots-of-unpronounceable-Scottish-middle-names MacGinley, every child deserves unconditional love from their parents. It wasn’t your failing, it was theirs.’
* * *
She woke the next morning to a mug of tea by the side of the bed and Rory behind her, kissing her neck and stroking down her body. She had never felt so present before, so complete.
‘I love you,’ she said happily.
He lifted his head to nuzzle her ear. ‘Are you talking to me or the tea?’ he asked, suspiciously.
She giggled and turned to face him. ‘It’s a close-run thing, but you can bring me a mug of tea, and a mug of tea can’t bring me you. So, you’re always going to come out on top.’
He kissed her. ‘You’re all my Christmases and birthdays rolled into one.’ He swallowed, and a cloud of worry drifted across his face. ‘Are you sure you still want me if I lose the castle and don’t have a penny to my name?’
Zoe cupped the side of his face. ‘I fell in love with a man who didn’t have a castle and looked like he lived in a hedge. Nothing’s changed. And we’ll find a way to make it work, whatever happens.’
She grinned mischievously. ‘Although if Brad Bauer shows up, he might give you a run for your money. Do you think we should put some posters of him around the cabin? I know how much you want to be like him.’
Rory raised an eyebrow and she let out a shriek of laughter, disappearing to hide under the covers. He burrowed in after her and trapped her under him, their faces almost touching in the half light of their duvet cave. He brushed her lips with a tender kiss. ‘I love you, Zoe,’ he whispered. ‘I want to make you so happy Brad Bauer wouldn’t stand a chance.’
She wrapped her arms around him. ‘That sounds like a good plan to me.’ She sighed happily, pulling his mouth to hers.
26
After a leisurely morning in bed, Rory reluctantly allowed Zoe to drag him out so they could go to Morag’s for a late lunch. Before they’d left the castle the night before, he had brought a small bag with clean clothes with him from the workshop, so after washing on the porch he dressed in a slightly rumpled shirt and a pair of smart trousers. Zoe looked him up and down and raised her eyebrows as he brought out a comb and attempted to drag it through his damp hair.
‘Are you trying to impress someone?’
He felt the heat in his cheeks. ‘I want to make an effort. It could take years to get in Morag and Fiona’s good books.’
Zoe wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. ‘It’s going to be fine. If I’m happy, they’re happy.’
He stared into her chocolate brown eyes as his heart burst its banks. She had brought him to a river, the border between two countries, the boundary between two lives, taken his hand and walked him over a bridge he never even knew was there. His life was the same but different. Forever changed, forever better. The castle, his mother, Lucy, memories of his father, the wars he’d fought, everything that had weighed down on him for years was now gone. He was lighter, calmer, free.
He stroked his thumb over her adorable freckles, as if reassuring himself she was actually in his arms. She was everything he never even knew he wanted or needed, and so much more.
‘I should be scared by how much I love you,’ he said. ‘But I’m so happy right now, there’s no room for anything else.’
She smiled and reached up to kiss him. ‘I’m sure there’s room for a couple of steaks.’
Zoe experienced a mix of heart-popping pride and overwhelming shyness arriving at Morag’s back door, her hand encased in Rory’s. The door was flung open by Morag, dressed to the nines. She craned her neck as she looked up at them. ‘Ah, there you are. I don’t know whether to bow or curtsey.’
Rory blushed. ‘Please don’t do either, Morag.’ He bowed low and presented her with a dusty bottle of wine he’d taken from the castle cellars.
Morag whistled. ‘Well, this didn’t come from Lidl.’ She looked up at him. ‘Thank you, love. Very lah-di-dah. I fear it’s wasted on the likes of us.’
Rory smiled. ‘Not at all, and I’d reserve judgement until you’ve tried it.’
‘Well, I’ll take one for the team and make sure I get the first glass, eh?’ Morag joked, giving him a nudge. She dragged them into the small kitchen which was filled with the mouth-watering scent of roast beef. ‘I hope you’re both hungry, I’ve got half a cow in there, and even our Jamie looks daunted.’
Fiona came into the kitchen and gave Zoe a hug. ‘How you doing? Recovered from last night yet? You danced so much you couldn’t walk by the end,’ she finished innocently, before collapsing into fits of laughter.
Morag batted her daughter’s arm. ‘Oh, leave them alone or I’ll tell them about your courtship of Duncan.’
Fiona’s eyes were dancing. ‘Fair point, we are in polite company after all. Come on, let’s get you out of Mum’s hair,’ she replied, leading them through to the sitting room where Jamie and Duncan sat, Liam on the floor between them playing with his toys.
Duncan and Jamie stood up as Zoe introduced Rory to them. Fiona, caught in the middle of a sea of tall people, pushed them back into chairs. ‘Sit down, you’re making me feel like a bloody midget,’ she complained.
Jamie sat back. ‘Height of a child, maturity of a child, mouth of a sailor.’ He sighed, shaking his head sadly.
Fiona threw a sofa cushion at him and he laughed.
‘Shut it, you big lump, you’re always going to be younger than me,’ she replied good-naturedly. ‘Now, Zoe, Rory, what can I get you to drink?’
* * *
Zoe sat back on the sofa next to Rory, his thumb moving in small circles over the back of her hand, as the conversation flowed around her. Fiona and Jamie were the siblings she never had, and Morag was her second mum. This wonderful family, that had been so important to her at the most critical part of her childhood, were once again surrounding her with love. The sense of belonging, of finding her true home were back and amplified. This was where she belonged.
And the love Morag and her family had for her was willingly shared with Rory. She sneaked glances across at him; his powerful thighs pressing against hers, their hands intertwined, his brilliant smile. To begin with, he’d been shy and slightly awkward. But now his face was dazzling. So open, so bright, so at ease. Morag and her family had welcomed him as if he had always been there, the past completely forgotten, his mother never mentioned.
When Morag called them through to the dining room, they sat down with a collective and reverential silence as they beheld the beef joint sitting in the middle of the table.
‘Bloody hell. I’m glad I’ve got my fat pants on.’ Jamie whistled.
They held hands and closed their eyes. ‘Dear you upstairs,’ Morag began. ‘Bless this family and bless this meal. Thank you for Zoe, and for bringing Rory into our family. Thank you for Duncan, who takes Fiona off my hands every two weeks, and for whoever you’re lining up to take our Jamie out from under my feet. Thank you for Liam, and if it isn’t too much trouble, I’d be much obliged if you could make his first word Nana. Keep safe in your love the ones who are no longer with us. Amen.’
A squeeze rippled through everyone’s hands, Zoe squeezing Rory’s extra tightly, then they opened their eyes.
‘So, Mr Earl, Rory love, would you do the honours?’ asked Morag, handing him the carving knife.
He stood up, towering over the table. He swallowed and smiled hesitantly. Zoe’s heart burst with happiness.
‘Thank you, Morag. How hungry is everyone?’
‘Fat pants!’ cried Jamie.
‘Me too!’ said Duncan and Fiona at the same time, and the table dissolved into laughter.
The afternoon passed in a warm haze of good food and good company. Rory got in
to a long and technical discussion about electrics, as Duncan and Jamie argued between themselves about the best approach to wiring the cabin, and Fiona and Morag wanted to hear all about Zoe’s plans for the castle and how the website was coming on.
Talking about it, she realised how excited she was about making it work, how passionate she was about taking on such a big project and making it her own. There was no guarantee of success; in fact, she knew all too well how precarious the situation was, but the uncertainty and the challenge were part of the adventure. For the first time in her life, she was following her own path, charting her own future, supported by the man she loved. She was truly living, and she had never been happier.
* * *
The end.
Thank you so much for reading Highland Games! Rory and Zoe return in Hollywood Games, which you can pre-order now by clicking here!
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Highland Games: sparkling, sexy and utterly unputdownable - the romantic comedy of the year! (The Kinloch Series) Page 25
