She would be honest with the MacPherson laird’s son before she went to their wedding bed, but if she didn’t give in to this feeling, she would regret it the rest of her life and resent the husband she was hoping to be friends with. This would be her only chance to ever be loved and desired again, and she couldn’t let it pass, because it would be the memories of these moments she would cling to on cold, lonely nights.
Brodie had apparently seen her hesitation because his finger leisurely teased her chest as he awaited confirmation. The sensation heated her blood and made her thoughts scatter. Tingles shot through her, and gooseflesh erupted on her arms, evaporating any second thoughts she was having of giving in to this overwhelming need to be one with him.
She brought her hands up to rest on his sides and looked deep into his dark chocolate eyes. “I want this, dearest.”
“I want ye.” He groaned, and his hand rose to clasp the back of her neck as his other arm wound around her waist and pulled her flush with his solid frame. He lowered his mouth to hers.
His lips were rough at first, like the first time they had kissed. She had never kissed another, and she was flattered by his impatience. Her hands tightened on his waist. He must have felt her response, because the kiss softened.
His tongue swept over hers and shattered any lingering resolve she possessed. She let her body melt into his as he continued his sweet, relentless assault, and her blood pounded as her core ignited. She was lost. Lost in the moment, lost in the passion, lost in the only man she had ever or would ever love. All rational thought of consequences had been wiped away with just his touch.
A small whimper escaped her as he pulled back to nip at her lower lip. He stilled and raised his head. The dark eyes looking back at her were intent, focused on her, and she felt herself drowning in the need they projected. She panted from her own sheer desire and longing. He shifted slightly, and his hard erection rubbed against her belly. Core heating, moisture pooled in her most intimate area.
“I’ve wanted for so long to have ye back in my arms.” The deep, primitive tenor in his words resonated and called to the primal part of her she’d buried long ago. It started a thrumming in her blood that overpowered and shattered any sense of self-preservation she had been able to hold on to.
“Many a night I have dreamt of being here with ye.” She did not recognize her own husky reply.
A hoarse rumble reverberated through his throat as he reached to deftly unpin her arisaid. At the same time, his head sank to her neck and his mouth landed just above her shoulder. A gasp escaped her as the warmth of his lips clasped around the sensitive skin. Shivers of heated awareness ran down the length of her body, spurring the need for him that she had kept locked away for far too long.
Her plaid fell to the ground as he tossed the brooch to a nearby table. The air in the room was cool, but her body heated as her hands traveled up Brodie’s hips to unfasten his belt. Her fingers shook as she fumbled with it. He pulled away and grasped one of her hands. He placed it on his swollen penis.
“Feel what ye do to me, love.” Heat pooled at her center as his strained voice and the proof of his need for her engulfed her with urgency. Letting go, he removed the belt easily, returning to lavish more attention on her collarbone, trailing kisses to her ear.
She slid her hands up his arms to remove the plaid from his taut body. She’d forgotten just how brawny and hard his biceps were as the steel beneath his velvet skin rippled under her fingertips. He bit down gently on the lobe of her ear just as the cloth fell in a soft lump to the floor.
As she arched into him, sparks raced to the apex of her legs. His hands snaked back around to rest on her rear, squeezed, and then lifted her to her toes as he ground into her with the proof of his desire.
Lowering her feet to the ground, he took a step back. His warmth was instantly missed, but the cold didn’t jar her. What did was the look in his eyes as he watched her, the raw yearning as his hands untied the ribbons on her stays. He pulled at them as his gaze lingered on her chest.
“Yer breasts are larger than I remember.”
Her cheeks reddened as his perusal lingered, and her stays fell to the ground as he reached up to gently palm a globe through her shift. Her already engorged nipples tightened as he reverently fingered one. An intense shot of desire coiled inside her.
His other hand skimmed along her thigh and up under her shift. She found it hard to breathe under his intent gaze and the sensations assailing her. A pinch at her nipple sent a shockwave that enveloped her in need as her womb tightened. His mouth turned up in a satisfied grin as his palm skidded across her feminine folds and felt the wetness there.
“Brodie,” she whimpered. He seemed to understand her fevered need, because both hands lowered to the hem of her shift, grasped it, and pulled it up over her head in one fluid motion. It left her trembling body exposed to him.
Her heart raced as his hands rested on her hips and guided her to the solid bed. She sat and scooted back on her elbows as he yanked his white linen shirt over his broad shoulders. His muscles swelled, and she was mesmerized at how his body had transformed. He had been handsome before, but now, her mouth watered as she studied his solid, strapping chest. She was mesmerized as his muscles flexed and expanded when he tossed his shirt to the floor.
Trailing her gaze down to his penis, she swallowed hard and tried to control her stuttering breath. Even it was larger than she remembered as it stood erect, ready to fill her, and claim her once again.
She recalled their first time. It had hurt, but only at first because he had been gentle and had slowly given her time to adjust to his invasion. Would she need time to adjust again? He must have sensed her reticence because he said, “I willnae hurt ye, love. ’Twill be hard, but I will go slow. I want to savor every second I am inside ye.”
She blushed at how easy he’d been able to read her. Nodding in relief, she admitted, “I have no’ been with any other.” Somehow, it was important to her that he know her heart and soul had remained faithful.
His lips curved up and both dimples flashed as his eyes dilated. When he slid onto the bed next to her, she scooted back farther to make room for him. The bed was small, and they just fit. He surprised her with, “I never brought another woman here. This is our place. I kept it that way.”
“Why did ye stay in the smaller room?”
“This is where I had memories of ye.” He turned on his side and rested on an elbow as he slid a finger across her hip then the curve of her waist. And she would have the memory of this moment when she needed it. Her eyes stung at the intensity and depth of emotion surging through her, and the knowledge that she would soon lose this again.
His lips covered hers, scattering the wayward thoughts like swirling leaves on a brisk fall day. She was enthralled as his tongue swept over hers and his exposed chest brushed against her breast, bringing a closeness she’d never thought to experience again. The feel of skin on skin ignited a fire deep inside her core. Although she had tried to deny it, she was lost to him.
As his mouth continued to devour hers, his hand slid down to cup her breast. It was gentle, but firm. He kneaded the soft flesh and groaned while she ran a hand through his thick locks and fisted the loose curls in the back. The kiss deepened, and his hand strayed down to gently tickle her ribs. It continued farther and rested on her mound as sparks cascaded through every part of her body.
His fingers played in her pubic hair, teasing the sensitive flesh hiding under her curls and tantalizing the feminine part of her that was ready to surrender to everything he offered. She arched up into his hand, and it slid into the folds to her wet channel. She gasped, and his head lifted to pin her with the intense proof of his need for her. “Ye are so wet for me, love.”
She couldn’t speak. She didn’t have to; his hand eased down to grasp her thigh. Pushing her legs apart, he rose and repositioned himself over her. Bracing himself on one arm, he guided the tip of his manhood to her swollen core and ran it up a
nd down the length, soaking up her juices and driving her mad. She whimpered with need.
Centering the head of his cock, he slowly slid into her. It didn’t hurt, but she felt full and complete. He moved into her until she had taken in the whole length of him, filling and expanding her as he claimed her, heart, body, and soul. He took in a deep, strained breath then rocked his hips back and forth as she melted like clay in his hands.
“Skye, ye feel so good wrapped around me.” The words ignited a primitive response inside her, and though he had stilled, she shimmied her hips back and forth, longing for the release that only he could give her.
His mouth came back down on hers, this time demanding and hard, challenging her to deny him, claiming her soul, her heart as his. Letting her know that he belonged to her completely, just as she did him. Just as she always had.
Brodie pulled out of her almost completely, stilled, and she immediately felt bereft as he tilted his head back to watch her. His gaze stayed on her eyes as he slowly slid back into her depths, burying his shaft inside her tight sheath, filling her to the hilt.
He swayed back and forth, not drawing back, staying buried deep inside her. The movement pushed his body over the sensitive nub at her center, and she inhaled as her eyes rolled back and a spasm spiraled through her body.
He moved his hips again. The head of his cock was buried deep inside her, stroking her insides as his body rubbed her on the outside. Her hands flew to his buttocks and held on as she arched further in to him, and he rocked again and again, over and over until a dam broke inside her.
Gasping for air as wave after wave of explosive fire ignited and spiraled through her, she succumbed to the sensations, and her senses spun out of control. It was a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, and she clutched at his arms in a vain attempt to stay grounded as her world spun into a whirlpool of oblivion and ecstasy.
His rhythm changed, hips retreating and then plunging in an urgent plundering and claiming of her body. Her body was still clenching around his as the head of his cock reached the deepest part of her with a relentless hunger that thirsted to take everything she could give.
He sank into her over and over until his gaze locked on her. He was holding her head, watching her when his own release came. Rapture reached his eyes, and his seed pumped into her. Some primal part of her thrilled at knowing she had brought pleasure to him, driven him to the edge, and that her body had been made for his.
He thrust two more times as her channel continued to milk him, then he took her mouth again, fevered at first, then gentling to a soft, tender caress as if he worshipped her. It was so beautiful and so right.
Why had she denied herself all these years? And why had she not made things right between them when she’d had the chance?
She pushed away the voice that said, Because ye would have ended up alone.
…
Nestling into the apex where his arm and shoulder met, Skye relaxed as a small sigh of what passed for sated satisfaction escaped her throat. Brodie relished the silk of her next to him again, and the feel of pure contentment.
As she lay on her side in the crook of his arm, he trailed his fingers up and down her soft, feminine side, savoring every second of her nearness. She had been his first, but after she left him, he had spent many nights with others, trying to find what he had lost, the perfection that was Skye.
He never had. Nights with other women always left him feeling cold, hollow, and emptier than before. But now, this was all he could hope for, these few stolen moments, because he had chosen another path, and there was no going back.
“If ye missed me, why did ye no’ come after me?” Her question startled him. He had thought her almost asleep.
“I did.”
“When?”
“On yer eighteenth birthday. I came to marry ye and bring ye home. Yer father had said once ye were eighteen, we could wed.”
“When did he say that?” She sat up and looked at him sideways.
“I asked him when ye were sixteen. We discussed it many times, but his answer was always the same.”
“Ye came all the way to the Isle of Skye?” Her hands clasped over her bare chest, and her eyes narrowed.
“Aye. Did yer uncle no’ tell ye?” Anger rose in his chest. The man had not even told her he had come and pleaded to see her.
“Nae, I didnae ken.” Skye shook her head slightly.
“He said ye would no’ see me.”
“Well, I…” Her eyes darted away.
“Told me I wasnae good enough for ye, and he’d already made a match for ye and ye’d accepted it. He had me beat senseless.”
“The first I heard of ye was that ye jumped right into bed with the next lass to come along.”
“Nae, that came when I healed. After no one would tell me how ye were. And I asked. Donella, Alan, Lorna. They told me they had not heard from ye. I thought ye had deserted them, too. I drank so much whisky one night that I woke up in someone else’s bed not kenning how I had come to be there.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I am so sorry.”
He reached up to wipe away her tears, but she brushed his hand aside and dipped her head to kiss him. It was so tender, leaving him groaning.
“Ah, love, dinnae do that unless ye want me inside ye again. I cannae control myself when it comes to ye.” She pulled back and gave him a mischievous grin then playfully nipped at his lower lip. A challenge. One he was more than ready to face.
Chapter Twelve
“Are ye no’ hungry yet?” Skye rolled her eyes. How did Brodie have all this energy after his illness? All she wanted to do was eat and snuggle in his arms to fall asleep.
“Only for ye, love.” He rose up above her and nibbled at her neck. She gasped and then sighed as the tingle spread through her veins. They had lain together twice, and he showed no signs of slowing.
“I’m famished,” she pleaded, but craned to give him better access.
“Me, too. I’ve been starving for ye for far too long.”
He climbed on top of her and, taking her hands, pinned them above her head. Her chest started to flutter, and she could feel the familiar longing for him, but her stomach growled in protest. This time it was loud enough to catch his attention. He frowned as he let go of her wrists, but stayed braced on top of her.
“We will have to continue later. It’s getting dark, and we havenae left the bed all day,” she said.
“I never want to leave this bed again, love.” Grinding his pelvis into her hips, he smiled wickedly.
“I promise we can come back. I just need food. Ye do, too, if ye’ll admit it. Ye were just sick last night. Besides, I need to make ye Maggie’s tea.”
He groaned. “I dinnae like it. It’s tastes like dirty water.”
“If ye get sick again, ye willnae have the strength to make love to me,” she countered with a wry smile.
“Ye win this one, but we will no’ leave this house.”
She laughed. “The snow wouldnae let us if we tried.”
He rolled off her and kept his gaze fixed on her as she stood. She pulled her shift on quickly, not because of his scrutiny, but because she had not realized how cold it was. They had been warm all day in each other’s arms under the blankets, and she was now second guessing her request to leave it.
“Will ye get the fire going while I figure out what to make?”
“Aye, anything for ye, lass.” He rose, wrapping his plaid around his broad shoulders and walking over. Glancing out the window, he studied the scenery as if it was the first time he had seen it. Following her from the room, he stopped, moved into the spare bedroom, and glanced out that window, too.
She shivered—he was looking for threats. She was glad he was being vigilant, because she’d been so wrapped up in the pleasure of being with him, she’d forgotten about the men after her. Trusting him completely, she went to work in the kitchen.
Making a basic stew had been simple with potatoes she found in the cu
pboards and venison the Lochiel had left just outside in the cold. She added spices Maggie had sent and pulled out the bread that had been brought from the Kentillie kitchens. It was a perfect meal for two. Contentment washed over her as she realized cooking for just Brodie and herself had been calm and pleasant.
In the kitchen back on Skye, she had helped cook for a horde of MacDonalds, and it was always bustling and hectic with no time to put care into the dishes she made. She had loved being lost in the flurry of faces and friends, but there was something magical about being in this place, just Brodie and her.
Here, she had time and could put all the care she wanted into the dish. Here, she didn’t feel like just a cog in the wheel, which was what she’d wanted. Here, she felt important and needed.
Would she miss this?
Would she feel this way when she went to her new home? Would the MacPhersons even allow her to help in the kitchens?
Pushing the thoughts away, she decided to relish the sight of Brodie as he sat near the fire carving a piece of wood and peeking up at her from time to time.
After setting the stew, bread, and some ale down on the table, she slid into the chair next to his. She was amazed at how natural it felt and how relaxed she was in his presence. The comfortable ease they had shared as youths had come back so easily.
“How is yer family?” she asked.
“Mother and father are well. Tormod’s family lives near them now. They have two babes and one more on the way. Kerk is always off somewhere. We dinnae see him much.”
“Will they be pleased to see me?” Her eyes strayed out the window in the direction of his parents’ home.
“I am certain they will be happy.” He placed a comforting hand on hers and smiled. “I am surprised ye didnae come across them at Stirling.
“’Tis a large place. We arrived late, and then I was gone the same night. I do think I caught a glimpse of yer mother.”
Highland Redemption Page 10
