The man knew what to say to a woman. The nervous flutters dancing in her stomach settled. She sauntered up to him and met his eyes, her confidence bolstered. “I had a pleasant evening.” She walked past him, but held his stare. “Though it could have been better.”
And it truly could have. Sleep had been hard to come by with her body burning with unspent passion. He had been so hungry for her, ravenous. It was exciting, and inspired in her a similar eager appetite.
Duncan’s face flushed. The man was actually blushing.
If ever a man had blushed or let his hands tremble over Evina before, she would never have considered letting him anywhere near her bed. And yet when the powerfully strong Duncan Maclean blushed, it made everything in her melt.
“Evina, I have to talk to ye,” he said. Desire gleamed in his eyes and made the gentle pulse between her thighs throb.
Gillespie gave Duncan a hard look. “I’ll leave ye alone. If there is anything ye must discuss.” He said the words slowly, carefully. Almost as a warning.
Duncan’s eyes narrowed at his servant. “Good day, Gillespie.”
The servant quit the room in a clipped stride and closed tight the door behind him.
Duncan turned to her. “Evina.” His stare caressed over her once more. “Ye’re so damn beautiful.”
She gave him a coy look and swayed toward him, the way she’d seen whores do, knowing she was distracting him. Hell, she was distracted herself. By his size, and the searing memory of that kiss.
“Ye wanted to say something to me?” she asked. But she had no intention to listen. Not yet. Not when she knew what she wanted, what he wanted. What they would both get.
CHAPTER 9
FIRE RACED in Evina’s veins, hot with expectation. Duncan was a scant step away, a distance easily closed.
He sucked in a soft breath, a quiet intake of air, audible in the silence.
“What did ye want to say to me, Duncan?” she glanced up at him.
The wall of his chest was so close, her breasts tingled with the heat of his body. A tantalizing shiver wound down her spine.
He swallowed. “I canna seem to remember.”
She slid her hands up his léine in a bold move, her palms molding to the solid lines of his chest. “Are ye distracted?”
“Aye, I am.” His hand curled around the back of her neck, gentle but firm. The way a man held a woman he intended to kiss.
Evina’s ready reply died on her tongue as Duncan’s mouth came down on hers. Soft, silky, hungry. A man dying of thirst and finally getting the first sweet taste of water.
His tongue swept in her mouth possessively, and he grabbed her against him. He growled against her lips, a powerful sound, primitive with raw need that set Evina’s body thrumming in greedy reply.
This time there was no hesitation when his hands moved over her body, the caresses slow with reverent gratitude. Over the curve of her bottom, spanning her slim waist, gliding higher to cup the heaviness of her breasts. The hot pulse between her legs grew slick.
She was aware she was an attractive woman, but the appreciative stroking of her body left Evina feeling as though she was a goddess herself. Their tongues parried with one another in a tangle of passion, their lips caught in an intimate battle.
Her own hands were not so tender on his body. No, she gripped the firmness of his arse and raked her fingers down the rigid strength of his stomach. Her palms pushed over the solidness of his chest and she couldn’t help but moan. He was strong. Powerful. Exactly the kind of man she liked. She grasped his léine and pulled it off over his head, revealing his body, beautiful and perfect, for her exploration.
His hands grazed the sides of her breasts and her nipples strained against the silkiness of her dress in desperation for more. Evina cried out and arched her back to welcome his touch. Duncan’s lashes lowered and a surge of victory warmed through her. She knew he’d seen her reaction - he would understand what she wanted.
But he didn’t give it to her. Instead he smoothed his hands over the swell of her hip and down, to cup her bottom.
His grip on her was firm, decisive. He nudged her onto the desk and lifted her. The table was solid beneath her body and several books jabbed into her bottom and thighs, a sensation she barely acknowledged with the wild lust throbbing within her. Her legs spread and Duncan’s large body filled the space. The swell of his arousal bumped her pelvis.
A gasp jerked from Evina’s mouth. His cock was hard, straining against leather and silk to press with rapacious insistence.
For her.
She locked her legs around his hips. His arousal pressed harder against her, to the softness between her legs that thundered like a war drum of lust. They moved together, making the motions of sex, teasing their bodies to impossible heights.
Duncan fumbled with the impossibly small buttons at her bosom. “I want this dress off.”
The silk lay heavy against Evina’s skin. He moved too slowly over the buttons, his fingers clumsy with the noticeable tremble of overwhelming need.
“Then tear it from me,” she breathed.
He fiddled with a button. It snapped off and skittered across the floor before disappearing under a chair. Duncan met her gaze, his dark eyes gleaming. He grabbed the neck of her dress in his large fists and tugged his hands apart. The flimsy fabric tore, sending buttons popping and scattering. He groaned and drew the gaping neck of her gown low, baring her to him.
Cool air washed over her. The room faded away and all her focus centered on Duncan. He caught one breast in his hand, palming the full weight. Tingles of pleasure rippled through her. Evina moaned, a long, low cry of need. The pressure of his fingers worked over her breast and tightened around the bud of her nipple, producing exquisite prickles of bliss.
His mouth dragged a hot trail down her neck and stopped before her breast.
“Please.” The word fled her mouth in a breathless whimper.
Duncan lowered his hand, further splitting the dress as he did. Evina’s pulse kicked and headiness swam in her mind. His touch slid down her stomach, skimming over her nakedness.
The warmth of his breath fanned over her nipple the same time his finger swept over the slit of her sex. Her breath came fast, her eager panting loud and sexual and arousing, even to her own ears.
All at once, Duncan’s hot, wet mouth closed over her nipple and his finger dipped inside her.
Evina cried out, gripping the table to ensure she did not fall off. Duncan’s tongue flicked and rolled over her nipple while his finger circled the bud of her pleasure. A finger slid inside once more and slowly pumped in and out, in and out. Evina rocked her hips with the motion, pushing herself to the swiftly approaching brink of release.
His ministrations stopped at the very moment Evina was sure she was about to explode. He held her to him with one hand and shoved the desk clear with the other.
Candles and books and cups flew to the floor in a violent crash. Evina glanced down at the mess, but Duncan caught her face in his hand and returned her attention to him. The musky scent of her sex lingered on his fingers, sensual and erotic.
He settled her further onto the table, his gaze focused on her, his attention rapt. He took the flimsy remnants of her dress where it had been ripped to her thighs, unbuckled her belt, and carefully tore it the rest of the way down. The ruined flaps fluttered on either side of her, more a robe than a delicate kirtle. He pushed the useless garment from her shoulders to join the belt on the ground, leaving her fully nude.
She watched him with panting breath, naked, spread and wanting, ready for him to slake the heat building between her thighs. He knelt before her, running his hands up her calves over her inner thighs, edging her desire into something near madness.
He brushed the pad of his thumb over her slit and drew the digit upward to caress the sensitive bud. Evina’s mouth fell open, but no sound emerged. Duncan groaned and bent over, his eyes locked on hers as he dragged his tongue over her.
The w
orld fell away until the only thing left in her existence was the glorious wet heat of Duncan’s tongue.
He circled the hard nub of her desire and flicked against it, before sampling her depths only to suckle the bud into the warmth of his mouth once more.
His skill was exquisite, certainly not what she’d expected from a man so many years alone. A man who sought to impress and please his only lover.
Her body tensed and a flood of bliss pressed insistently at the dam that kept it restrained. Duncan growled and the flick of his tongue came faster, shoving her over the brink. A beast set on giving her incredible pleasure.
Evina’s body tingled with the brilliant rays of euphoria and her climax slammed over her.
He dragged his tongue over her several more times, her core now raw with sensitivity. A shudder of delight rippled through her.
“Please,” she gasped. “I want ye.”
She needn’t have said it at all, for Duncan was rising to his feet to stand between her legs. His intense stare remained fixed on her as he tugged free the belt on his trews and shoved them off. The leather pulled from his hips, revealing powerful thighs and a thick, hard cock which he gripped in his hand. Her center twitched in expectation for the fullness, the completeness.
He guided himself to her, until the swollen head of his prick pulsed thick and hot at her entrance.
“Yes,” Evina cried.
And he thrust hard into her.
DUNCAN’S SENSES whirled in a heady blur of tingling sensation and tight, gripping wet heat. Evina’s legs curled tighter on his hips, her heels at his arse as she drew him to her. Deeper into her.
The movement made her sheath flex. God, had anything ever felt so good? He gave a grunt of primal pleasure. He splayed his hands over her hips and thrust hard inside her before drawing out. She cried out again, her voice made husky by desire.
Her hips flexed up, guiding him harder, faster, until the savage slap of their joining filled the room and Duncan’s bollocks tightened. He squeezed his hands into fists and pushed his knuckles into the table so the hard surface ground into his bones.
Not yet, damn it.
He slowed his pace, letting her hips roll with the deliberate drive of his hips. Evina’s lashes fluttered and her moans faded to sighs of prolonged enjoyment. Her slender fingers eased between her legs and massaged the bud he’d licked only moments before. The erotic taste of her still lingered on his tongue, his mouth. The very thought made his cock jerk within her.
Her eyes widened and a coy smirk lifted the corner of her mouth. He let his hands roam over her body while they thrusted and flexed in deliberate movements, riding the slow building wave to what they both had to have. Her middle finger danced against the base of his cock while she pleasured herself, the action making her tighter against him until he could take it no more.
He grabbed her arse and shifted so his cock would rub the sensitive cleft for her. Her mouth fell open with a gasp. No more prolonging the building passion. He held her in place and pounded deep into her, hard and fast. Her breasts bounced with each slam of his cock into her until her sheath clenched in a telltale rhythm that sent him hurtling over the edge.
He roared with his release as he poured into her, encouraged by the throaty cry of her climax. His knees went soft with the force of their completion. He drew his hands from her bottom to the table, bracing his weight over her.
She smiled up at him, her gray eyes bright with satiated lust, her cheeks flushed. Her firm breasts rose and fell with her frenzied breath. “That was a commendable performance for a man who hadn’t been with a woman in fifteen years.”
His legs were more stable and he drew himself from her. She gave a shuddering gasp at the withdrawal. His hand skimmed up her body and grazed her nipple. “For a man who hadn’t been with a woman in fifteen years?”
“Impressed regardless of what ye’ve done or havena done these last fifteen years.” Her voice was honeyed and she pressed her breasts toward him. “What have ye done to get so damn good? I’m curious.”
“Reading.” He bent his head over her and drew his tongue over her stomach. Her skin tasted of salt and sex. Delicious. “A lot of reading.”
She stroked a hand down his hair. “I’d appreciate getting my hands on those books.”
He rose over her once more and stared down at her, transfixed by the raven black hair spilling over the desk like silk, the strong lines of her battle honed body, the tender expression softening her face.
She was the kind of woman a man would die for. As he very well might do.
She regarded him in turn, and her breathing slowed to normal. A quiet contentment nested between them, as often does when neither party regrets the unexpected sharing of mutual passion.
Her brows furrowed with a deep perception and she took in a breath as if she meant to speak. Duncan’s heart leapt. Mayhap she was falling in love. Would she break the curse? Was a certain phrase necessary to be spoken? The witch had never said…
Her lips parted, pink and soft. “Duncan.” She cast him a playful wink.
He grinned and leaned in, drawn with the cobweb-fine whisper of hope.
“Ye need to move so I can dress.” A smile warmed her words.
Duncan jumped backward and bent to retrieve his trews lest she see the blush burning his face. What a ridiculous folly, a pathetic misconception.
Seven more days.
It was too soon. Not enough time.
Clothing rustled briefly before him, and when he reached to grab his léine, he found it gone. In place of it was a pair of long, shapely legs. Duncan rose and let his eyes follow what was directly in front of his face, up the curve of a calf to the indent of a perfect knee. Everything else above disappeared with the hem of an overlarge léine. It blanketed her body, swelling out over her firm breasts with hard, pebbled nipples.
A good natured laugh greeted him followed by a kiss.
“My gown is ruined.” She lifted her brows “I suppose ye’ll have to remain partially naked.” She clucked her tongue. “Such a pity.”
It was his turn to raise a brow. “A pity?”
Aye,” she answered flippantly. “Ye’ll be quite the distraction and I must concentrate.”
She gave him a wicked grin and bent to retrieve the fallen books. His gaze went to the scant bit of skin showing where the hem rode up her thighs.
“As if ye’re no’ a distraction?” He gestured to her long legs. The very sight of her lean limbs sent heat coursing to his cock once more.
Evina rose gracefully and set a stack of books on the corner of the desk. “Ye have fifteen years to make up for. I dinna think ye’d mind.”
Before his brain could remember how to work, she lifted up on her tiptoes and teased the tip of her tongue over his collarbone. She backed away with sparkling eyes. The warm wetness of her lick remained, tempting and wonderful.
Even if Evina were not the woman who could break the curse, Duncan would have found himself losing his heart to her. She’d brought down his defenses, stone by stone until he was left unshielded and completely vulnerable.
She was the woman he’d been waiting for, the woman who could set him free. But there was more – she was the woman with whom he could find happiness.
Seven days was not enough.
An eternity wouldn’t be enough.
If he only had another few weeks, even several more days. What’s worse, he had the information she sought, but it would rob him of the precious few days they had left together. He couldn’t take that from her for his own benefit.
Could he?
CHAPTER 10
DUNCAN HELD the information Evina sought. She plucked a thick, red bound tome from the pile and thumbed to a page in the middle.
What he knew would lead her to learn who she was. And it would be her only chance to do so. Damn him, he was aware of this, and yet he hesitated.
Sharing what Gillespie had told him would cost Duncan his life.
If he told her, she
would leave. Based on the research, she would never return in time before the last leaf fell from the rowan tree. There wouldn’t be time to fall in love. He would die.
And yet…
Evina leaned against a wall, one naked leg propped behind her, and traced her finger along a line of text. Her return to the search was as intense as it had ever been.
Could he deny her the one opportunity to meet her mother? To find out who she was?
He was suddenly struck with the need to pull her into his arms once more and stroke her face, memorize every inch of her. His heart practically crumpled with the longing. But he didn’t go to her. He didn’t pull her into his arms. He couldn’t, or he would never let her go.
A war raged between his heart and his mind. He could forego telling her and she’d never be the wiser. But he would know.
“Ye’re staring at me again.” Evina’s lips curled into a smile and she shot him a glance. The quiet joy faded. “What is it?”
He continued to stare for a long moment, willing the words to come to his tongue with every drop of his being. They did not form, nor did they emerge. He remained quiet. Staring.
She pushed off from the wall, and closed the book with one finger pressed between the pages to mark her spot. “Duncan.”
He pulled his gaze from her and dragged a hand through his hair. She needed to know. He needed to tell her, but damn it, he could not. How could he allow himself to die when not only did he face the possibility of life, but also the promise of happiness? For the first time in his life, he’d been given the chance for something beautiful and wonderful.
“What if…” he spoke slowly. “What if ye had to choose between a lifetime of love, or discovering who you are?”
She cocked her head. “I’ve been waiting a lifetime to discover who I am.” She drew in a sigh, a deep, drawn out sound, as if the act caused her pain. “There’s always time for love.”
“But what if there’s not?” He fired back without thinking and immediately wished he had not. If he told her any part of her involvement with the curse, he would ruin any chance of her breaking it. A person could not know their involvement, or it would not work.
Her Highland Beast: A Scottish Medieval Romance with a Fairytale Twist Page 7
