by Donna Grant
Danielle concentrated on pumping her hands up and down his thick arousal when she felt a brush of cool air against her stomach. Ian had lifted her sweater in an effort to reach her breasts.
She heard his growl a heartbeat before he ended the kiss. She was getting ready to argue with him, expecting Ian to tell her to go to her room.
Instead, he held his hand in front of him and lengthened his claws. Then, with barely a flick of his wrist, he had cut her sweater down the middle before his claws disappeared.
Danielle shrugged out of it and eagerly went back into his arms. When she tried to remove his shirt, he dodged her hands until she had no choice but to take his rod back into her grasp.
She loved the moan that sounded from deep within his chest when she tightened her fist as she moved her hand from the tip of his cock to the base.
Suddenly, he had her on her feet, kissing her and fumbling with the latch of her jeans. Danielle took off her shoes and her jeans all without breaking the kiss.
They shared a smile as he wrapped his arms around her and brought her against him. The feel of the cold metal against her skin made her wince.
And reminded both of them just where they were.
“No,” she said when she saw he was about to pull back. “Don’t you dare pull away from me.”
There was a moment when she thought she had lost him, then he kissed her again. He held her head, the kiss deep and thorough, while his other hand ripped off her panties. He cupped her sex, pressing the palm of his hand against her clitoris.
Danielle felt herself grow even wetter at his touch. He parted her curls with a finger and slowly ran it up and down her softness, fondling her clit in light, teasing caresses all the while kissing her.
She was doing some teasing of her own as she held his cock in one hand and his balls in the other. She squeezed and stroked until he was panting and thrusting into her hand.
Danielle had every intention of taking him into her mouth and sucking until he came. But she should have known Ian had other thoughts.
He abruptly ended the kiss and whirled her around until her back was pressed to the bars. He cupped both her breasts in his hands, his mouth near her ear as he pressed his arousal into her buttocks. Danielle cried out when he squeezed both her nipples before nipping at the lobe of her ear.
She reached behind her and grabbed onto the bars to help herself stay upright. Her body was on fire, each nerve ending strung tight as a bow, ready—and oh so willing—to have Ian’s hands on her.
Decadently, decidedly wickedly, he traced a finger around her areola once, twice. Then that finger dipped between her breasts and meandered lazily down her stomach, around her navel, and over her hips before stopping just seconds from touching her sex.
Danielle cried out and shifted her hips, hoping to move his hand so that he touched her. He chuckled behind her and rolled a nipple between the fingers of his other hand still on her breast.
Ian liked to torment her, loved to see her body respond to him. She was primed and ready for whatever he wanted to do to her body. And that trust brought him to his knees.
A woman like Danielle was special and should be treasured. She should be given gems and every luxury known. A woman like Danielle could make the world shine with a simple smile.
Ian gripped her hip to steady himself and hold off his need to drive into her, to pound into her tight sheath and lose himself in the world the two of them created.
It was a world Ian desperately wanted, a world he needed to be in.
He flattened his hand on her stomach. She quivered beneath him. The pulse at her throat was as erratic as her breathing. And it only set Ian’s desire pounding higher.
With measured slowness he moved his hand into her curls. A moan tore from his throat when he felt how wet she was, how ready for him she was.
“Ian,” she whispered, her back arching as he pinched her nipple again.
His finger dipped into her and smoothed her wetness over her sex. He rubbed slowly, lightly from her clitoris down and then up again.
Her hips moved with him, her breathing hitching when he would swirl his finger around her swollen clit. Ian smiled when he heard her breath lodge in her throat. He enjoyed making her burn.
Just as he burned for her.
Ian dipped a finger inside her and thrust deep. She moaned, her head tilted back so that her glorious silver locks were spread over his chest. He wanted to see her hair against his skin, but in order to take his shirt off he’d have to remove his hands from her. And that wasn’t going to happen.
He pulled out his finger and added a second as he pushed inside her. Sweat glistened over her flushed skin. Ian had never seen a more beautiful sight than Danielle in his arms shaking with pleasure.
Ian wanted her to peak, he wanted to see her scream as her orgasm claimed her. But his own need was too great. He ground his cock against her bottom and groaned at the feel of her skin against him.
He rubbed her clit as he continued to stroke in and out of her sex. Her cries rose higher and came quicker. He knew she was close to climaxing by the way her body tightened around his fingers.
Ian added a third finger inside her at the same time he pressed against her swollen nub. Danielle screamed his name as her body clamped down on his fingers.
He held her up with his other arm while he continued to thrust inside her, prolonging the orgasm. Her body still jerked with spasms from the climax as Ian slowly lowered her to her knees.
Reluctantly he released her to shed his own clothes. When he turned back to her it was to find Danielle staring at him, a soft, pleased smile on her face.
“That was fun, but it would be a lot more comfortable with you out of that cell.”
He shook his head. “No’ happening tonight. I want to be sure of myself before I put you in harm’s way again.”
Danielle had leaned to the side, her mane of glorious silver hair hanging over her shoulder. Ian reached between the bars and grabbed a handful as he pulled Danielle to him. He rubbed the locks between his fingers.
“You have the softest hair.”
“And you have the most beautiful eyes,” she murmured as she rested her palms flat on his chest. “They’re the exact color of sherry. Sometimes I think I can see straight into your soul when I look at you.”
His heart skipped a beat at her words. “And what do you see?”
A slow smile pulled at her kiss-swollen lips. “A good man. A man I’m proud to know.”
Ian kissed her, hating how the iron bars blocked him from getting too close to her. Her hands glided up to his neck, over his shoulders and around his back.
He grabbed her buttocks and pulled her against him as he ground his throbbing arousal into her sex still swollen from his touch.
He could feel the heat of her, the slick wetness. Ian thrust his hips forward and rubbed against her curls.
“Yes,” she murmured.
With both of them on their knees, he lifted her up until she was able to slide her legs between the bars and around his waist.
Danielle looked down into Ian’s eyes and saw the desire, the longing in his beautiful eyes. She thrust her fingers into his light brown locks and held him as he lowered her. She felt the blunt head of his arousal against her flesh and shivered.
His fingers had felt wonderful, but nothing was as good as the real thing.
She held her breath, waiting for him to push inside her. His arms shook, but not from holding her. They shook because he was waiting until he could stand it no more. She saw it in his eyes, in the way he looked at her.
Her heart clutched in her chest. With a grin, she leaned down and kissed him through the bars. When their lips touched, the head of his cock slipped inside her.
Danielle gasped at the pleasure of having him stretch her and fill her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as inch by inch he lowered her until he was fully seated.
And almost immediately he pulled out until just the head of him remaine
d. Only to thrust hard and deep.
Danielle dug her fingernails into Ian’s shoulders as pleasure stole her voice. He was in complete control of her, and she loved it.
He moved her up and down his length. Slowly with short thrusts. Then harder, plunging deep within her. He rotated her hips so that her clitoris pressed against him, sending thrills rushing through her.
With her heels locked at his back she could feel his butt and hips move as he continued to thrust, his big hands shifting her up and down at the same time.
Danielle gripped the bars to help hold herself, and when she did, Ian held her hips and rocked hard against her. She could feel herself begin to tighten inside. Each glide of his cock in her sheath sent her winding tighter and tighter, reaching for the sweet bliss only Ian could give her.
Their eyes met, and when he leaned down and softly nipped at her nipple, she screamed his name. Danielle’s back bowed toward Ian as the sweet waves of her climax engulfed her. They pulled her, took her over the precipice and into an abyss of pleasure like she had never known.
She had barely gotten her breathing under control before Ian pulled out of her. Danielle felt bereft, but before she could argue, he had her on her hands and knees facing away from him.
He ran his hand over her buttocks and groaned. Danielle looked at him over her shoulder to find him smiling. He winked at her as he caressed from her shoulder down over her spine to her hips.
That’s when she felt him against her. He was still impossibly hard. With one thrust, he was seated inside her.
Danielle bit her lip at the feel of him from behind, the way his balls brushed against the back of her legs. She dug her fingers into the blanket and closed her eyes as he began to pound into her.
He set up a compelling rhythm that was relentless as he pulled her once more into the flames of desire. He was unyielding in allowing her to move against him as he held her hips steady. Yet he gave her pleasure with each thrust of his hips.
Time stood still as their bodies joined, united in an act as old as time itself. Desire and pleasure wound around them, holding them firm. Binding them.
Unbelievably, Danielle could feel her body tightening again. Her nerves stretched taut, her skin was all that was holding her together.
“Come for me,” Ian whispered.
That’s all it took for Danielle to peak. She screamed, her body stiffening as the climax seized her, took her. Swept her.
Ian pumped desperately into her, his breathing harsh to her ears. His fingers bit into her flesh. Danielle tipped back just a fraction, then clamped down when he surged inside her.
He thrust once more and bellowed her name. Danielle smiled at the feel of his climax inside her. He slumped against her, the glow of their lovemaking, of the bond that had found them, lightening the gloom of the dungeon.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Ian watched Danielle sleep for what was left of the night. He never released his hold on her hand. It was awkward the way she slept, but no amount of urging by him would make her seek out her own bed.
He shouldn’t have been surprised. Danielle was surprisingly strong and stubborn when she wanted to be. Ian knew he shouldn’t have made love to her in the dungeon, but his need had been too great, his hunger for her too vast.
It was always too great when it came to Danielle.
He wondered what it was that drew him to her. She was beautiful, but it was more than that. Her magic was strong, but again, it was more than that.
Could it be the strength he sensed within her? Or could it be that she was able to look to her future and not allow her past to rule her? Not that it mattered. Ian would never find another woman like her if he searched the earth for the rest of time.
Ian knew dawn had come when he heard movement above in the great hall. He was loath to wake Danielle. The dark circles were nearly gone, and she was sleeping deeply.
But a new day had begun. And with it, the constant threat that needed to be discovered.
“Danielle,” Ian called as he smoothed a strand of her silky silver hair away from her face.
She moaned and cracked open her eyes. “Morning already?”
“Aye, I’m afraid it is.”
“Damn,” she muttered, and rolled to her back where she stretched her arms over her head.
It caused the blanket to shift down and expose one luscious breast. Ian grew instantly hard.
Danielle chuckled and sat up, letting the blanket drop to her waist. “I’m all yours, but you’ll have to leave that prison if you want more of me.”
At that moment Ian would have offered her the sun and moon if he could have but another taste of her. “Have you no’ learned already it’s no’ good to tempt a Warrior?”
“Oh, but I want to tempt you,” she whispered seductively.
Ian’s cock throbbed painfully. He palmed himself and adjusted his arousal inside his jeans.
“It’s ridiculous for you to stay in there,” Danielle said as she began to gather her ruined clothes into a pile.
“You know my reasons.”
“And how long will you keep yourself in there? You have no idea how long it will take you to gain control.”
“Nay, I doona. But if it will keep you from harm, then I will gladly do it.”
Danielle threw down her boot and glared at him with her hands on her hips. Ian ran an appreciative eye over her naked form, even if she was staring at him with daggers in her eyes.
“You’re impossible,” Danielle stated.
“I will gain control, and when I do, I’m locking us in your chamber for at least a month. I’m going to make love to you every way possible. Twice. I’ll keep you so content you willna want to leave the bed.”
Danielle gathered the blanket around her and walked to the bars separating them. “Don’t you realize, you foolish man, that you already make me content?”
Ian was at a loss for words as she walked away, her torn clothing forgotten. He had thought his words would pacify her until he could be with her as he longed to be. Yet she had completely surprised him.
Which shouldn’t have happened. He should have known by now that Danielle was nothing if not unexpected.
Ian paced his square prison, his thoughts going over all that Danielle had said, as well as what Duncan had told him. Ian knew how imperative it was that he gain control over Farmire and soon.
There was no doubt something was going to happen, whether it was Fallon bringing back Malcolm to the castle, or Deirdre or Declan attacking in some way.
Regardless, Ian needed to be there to protect Danielle.
Ian tried to imagine his life without her in it, and he couldn’t. She had become as important to him as breath. Keeping her safe, keeping her alive was the most important thing to him.
It took a moment for him to realize how his priorities had changed. Just weeks ago the most critical thing for him to do had been to kill Deirdre.
When Danielle had come into his life and he had sensed her magic and felt the way it touched every fiber of his being, everything had changed. He hadn’t recognized it until that moment, but now that he had, it seemed only right.
Ian took a deep breath and called up his god. Then, he began the process of tamping down Farmire. To Ian’s surprise, Farmire didn’t fight too hard.
Again and again Ian repeated the procedure, and each time Farmire fought for only a moment.
Ian smiled as he watched the pale blue fade from his skin. He was gaining control.
* * *
Broc peered around the corner of the building. “I see him,” he told the others who were behind him.
“Is he alone?” Fallon asked.
Broc nodded. “For now. He looks as if he…”
“What?” Larena urged.
Broc shrugged. “It looks as if he’s sightseeing.”
Beside him Isla smothered a laugh. “Surely not.”
Broc slowly moved back into the shadows and looked at the other three. “I’m no�
�� jesting. He’s walking around looking at everything. I even see a flyer of some kind in his hand.”
“Let me go to him,” Larena begged Fallon.
Fallon shook his head. “No’ yet, love. We need to know where he is going and why. If Deirdre sent him and Malcolm doesna carry out her orders, she’ll only send someone else.”
“Fallon’s right,” Broc agreed. “We must wait.”
“I can’t.” Larena shook her head and turned away.
Broc licked his lips. “Let me follow him alone, Fallon. I’ll see where he’s going. He willna know I’m there.”
“Aye,” Fallon said. “We’ll wait at the hotel.”
“Be careful,” Isla said.
Broc took a baseball cap from his back pocket and placed it on his head. “Always.”
He stepped into the crowded street full of tourists and easily spotted Malcolm a hundred yards in front of him. Broc kept far enough back that Malcolm never saw him. The few times Malcolm’s gaze passed him, he didn’t recognize Broc from the baseball cap he wore low over his head.
For hours they meandered the city, stopping for food and to gaze at churches and monuments. Malcolm even went to Edinburgh Castle, but he didn’t go in.
Broc wondered if Malcolm was remembering the last time he had been at the castle. That’s when Fallon had met Larena. Deirdre had sent Broc and another Warrior to bring Larena to her, but the other Warrior hadn’t liked the idea of a female having a god inside her.
He’d used drough blood on his claws and stabbed Larena. Broc had still been spying on Deirdre at the time, so he couldn’t help Larena other than to tell her that the drough blood was killing her.
As Broc expected, Fallon took Larena to MacLeod Castle. Days later Deirdre had sent Warriors to attack Malcolm as he traveled to MacLeod Castle.
Broc frowned as he recalled the mangled, bloody mess that had been Malcolm when he fought off the Warriors. He hadn’t expected Malcolm to live, and there was only one person who Broc knew could save him. Sonya.
She had saved Malcolm’s body, but not his soul. Broc wondered if he shouldn’t have allowed Malcolm to die that day. Never had he expected Malcolm to become a Warrior who aligned himself with Deirdre.
