Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8) (20 page)

She knew she should not be doing this. A blade of guilt struck her but she could not pull away from him.

Neacal held Anna's face gently between his hands. The scent of mint and lavender from the salve was strong, but his mouth retained her full attention. Deliciously devouring. She found her hands exploring the well-developed muscles of his bare chest and the scars and ridges of his abdomen down to his belt.

A rough moan escaped him.

She knew she had only to drop her hand a bit lower to feel his arousal. Dare she do it? She opened her eyes to find him watching her in the firelight, his eyes midnight blue beneath his lowered lashes, his expression one of a need so strong it bordered on pain.

"Damnation, I—" He moved to arise, but she grabbed hold of his hand.

"Nay, please," she begged. She knew 'twas her words that halted him, not her grasp. "Neacal."

"Aye?"

"I want…" She halted, unable to believe her own brashness.

He released a breath, his tormented eyes searching hers. "What?" he whispered as if giving in, trailing his roughened fingers along her cheek. "Tell me what you want, lovely Anna."

A thrill of arousal coursed through her, his compliment making her bolder.

"I want… to make you feel better."

His brows formed a slight frown. "And what about you? What would make you feel better?"

"Touching you," she confessed, feeling wicked, but at the same time knowing this was something she needed to do. They needed each other.

His dark blue gaze turned inferno hot. "You may touch me all you like," he said, blowing out a heated breath, "but only if I can touch you, too."

She nodded, imagining his strong but gentle hands stroking every inch of her as they had the night before. She dropped her gaze to his belt buckle, the gleaming brass reflecting the firelight, taunting her. Hesitantly, she moved her hands to it and grasped the leather.

He sucked in a hissing breath and her gaze flew to his. Saints, but he looked hot enough to ignite and his eyes dared her to continue. A rush of excitement sizzled along her nerves.

Manipulating the leather and the brass buckle, she managed to unfasten his belt. It loosened, along with his gathered plaid. She tugged at the folds and it dropped aside, leaving him naked. Before she could get a good look at him, he turned her and drew her onto his lap. He unbuckled her belt, then pulled her clothing down to her hips. She shivered.

He leaned forward, pressing kisses across her chest to her breast. He blew out a hot breath and tugged her nipple into his mouth.

She gasped, arching her back, her arms holding tighter to his shoulders.

He pushed her
arisaid
, smock and petticoats down over her hips. In a few moments, she was just as nude as he was. His skin felt delightfully fiery against hers.

He lifted her, making her head spin, and deposited her on the bedroll on the floor. He tucked her head beneath his chin and held her close. His breathing was uneven, his rapid heartbeat pounding against her ear. "I don't know what the devil I'm doing," he muttered. "I should not touch you. You deserve so much better."

How could he say such a thing? She pulled back to look into his face."Shh." She kissed his mouth, holding his face between her palms. "You are the most amazing man I know."

His hands upon her derriere, he pulled her tight against his erection that lay long and hard against her lower belly. She moaned. He felt so astounding she was near ready to beg.

Inside, she already ached for him. Her arousal and her absolute devotion to him combined to form a tempestuous emotion and a need so wild and out of control she didn't know what to do. Kissing him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. His heart pounded hard against her chest, and her own heartbeat drowned out all other sounds except his deep, rough moans.

"Anna,
mo ghraidh.
" Taking control, he rolled between her legs and continued kissing her, his lips and tongue stealing her reasoning. She could think of naught but having him immerse himself within her, the dark corners of his soul touching hers.

When he nudged his shaft against her most sensitive flesh, she gasped and clung tighter to his neck.

"Damnation, how I want you," he ground out between clenched teeth.

"Aye, take me, Neacal," she whispered, opening herself to him, tugging him closer.

"'Tis madness. I should not."

"Please. I want you, too."

"Are you certain?" His dark, tortured eyes said he did not believe her.

"Of course, I'm certain." Sliding her hand down his firm, ridged lower abdomen, she reached for him. Her hand encountered his hard shaft. She palmed him and stroked up his length, then grasped him and guided him exactly where she wanted him.

He hissed again, then murmured Gaelic curses. Pressing his forehead against hers, he entered her slowly, inch by torturous inch. Though her body was unused to such an extreme invasion, she did not flinch at the intensity which bordered on pain.

Clinging tight to him, she thrust her hips. "Hurry, please," she breathed.

He gave a harsh growl, holding her head between his hands. He looked into her eyes, into her soul, and drove himself to her depths. She groaned and dug her nails into his firm arse. Holding still, he kissed her cheeks, her closed eyelids and her lips.

When he withdrew, she cried out at the thrilling, divine sensation. Not wanting him to go, she pulled at him. "Again."

He thrust, driving himself deeper still.

Crying out, she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Oh, please."

"Anna," he breathed. "Nothing has ever felt this good."

"Aye, Neacal. More."

Once he started moving, he propelled her into a pleasure so profound she had never even imagined it. His passion was dark and rich, so delicious and powerful it edged on pain. He drove her through a pleasure of unbearable intensity. She could do naught but cling to him in desperation, crying out, losing control.

He suckled her nipple and she thought she might die of the rapturous bliss. Then, he found her other nipple and drew it into his mouth. She arched her back as he plunged into her and she felt herself falling. She screamed, holding onto him lest she go flying off the edge of the world.

He locked his lips onto hers and continued to test the limits of her endurance. The pleasure burst within her like a thousand shooting stars. Feeling like she was flying and tumbling through the air, she screamed out.

Holding himself deep, he shuddered and growled in her ear. "Anna," he rasped.

She hugged him tightly to her. How precious he was, how dear to her.

They lay unmoving for long moments, simply breathing, absorbing the impact, holding each other. Neacal inhaled deeply, his heart still pounding with excitement. He could not grasp what had just happened. The absolute bliss had been unfathomable. How could such unimaginable pleasure exist in a harsh and painful world?

Though he didn't want to, he withdrew from her, lay down beside her and pulled her tight against his chest.

Aye, he'd bedded women many times before, years past, but never like that. Never a touching of souls. What on earth had Anna done to him? He no longer controlled his impulses, nor did he want to.

Some odd, light feeling bubbled up from the core of his being and a short laugh burst from him. He tamped down the urge and drew back, searching out Anna's gaze.

She grinned, watching him with understanding. Giving him permission to feel the joy? Did she feel it, too?

Unable to stop his smile, he stroked her face, so smooth in the firelight. What perfection she was, a gift only for him. At least, that was the illusion, but 'twas not true. She was not his but instead was bound to another man. The brief moment of happiness dimmed like cold embers. As elusive as sparks falling and fading in the frosty air.

He turned onto his back, disquiet worming through his body. "I am a madman. This confirms it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Making love to a woman who is taken."

"I'm not taken," she said with soft intensity. "'Tis why I'm here and not with the bastard."

Aye, well, there was a chief and a clan somewhere who disagreed, and therein lay the problem.

"So, you regret it," she said, her delicate voice disappointed.

When he turned onto his side again, he found her eyes glistening with unshed tears. He would rather hurt himself than make her cry. "Nay, of course not." Gently gathering her close, he kissed her lips. "'Twas the best hour of my life." And that was the truth. He did not simply say things to flatter her. If life was balanced, the pleasure he'd just experienced was equal in intensity and volume to the pain he'd suffered two years ago.

She blushed, her gaze dropping. "I don't wish to put you in any danger. When we part ways, no one will ken of it."

Part ways?
Those words stabbed at him like daggers. He did not ever want to part ways with her. But how to say that… how to explain it? "I'll protect you from the bastard." Always, for the rest of his life, if necessary. He could not say that, and knew he was foolish for even thinking it. If the man had forced her to marry him, he obviously wanted her badly. "How does Blackburn feel about you? Does he fancy himself in love with you?"

She shook her head, her eyes growing troubled. "Nay. Far from it. He feels naught but greed. He wants to possess me like a
thing
. He has no heart, no soul. I was his rival's wife, and to make me his wife makes him feel powerful and victorious. For him to possess all that my husband had… 'tis like he is dancing upon his grave."

What a brute. He would not rest until the bastard was dead. "I'll never let him have you. I promise you that."

"I thank you, but I cannot let you put yourself in any more danger. I need to be away from here. But where shall I go?"

When he imagined her leaving, anguish reached in and seized his heart. "Nay. I'm not letting you out of my sight. He's the one who will be in danger."

"You are but one man. He has a garrison of several dozen."

"Are you thinking that matters?" Neacal would take them all down, two or three at a time, if he had to. He had not clawed his way back from death for naught. For him to have survived… that meant he had a reason to be here.

She was his reason.

"You cannot fight so many men without reinforcements." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Please be reasonable."

He couldn't fight them all at once; he knew that. He wasn't an idiot, simply determined. The important thing was that she was safe. "I'll take you back to Bearach, but in the meantime, I'll do whatever it takes to protect you from the beast."

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. "I wish I had never left Bearach. We were both safe there. Because of Chief Hamilton, I made a grievous error and I'm sorry."

"Don't fash over it. Like you said, 'tis only by surviving the difficult things that we grow stronger."

"You're the strongest person I know," she said, rubbing her thumb against his biceps muscle. His body quickened at the light pressure and he wanted her again. Already.

He tugged her against him and kissed her forehead. "'Haps physically, but you have a strength of mind and spirit that I admire. After all the terror and grief you have suffered, you create beautiful music which is surely sent from heaven."

He didn't understand it. Her soul wasn't clouded by the gloom as his was. A brilliant healing light glowed from her. 'Twas not only something he saw with his eyes, but something he felt. This same light burst forth with the songs her voice carried to float over everyone and give them a glimpse of paradise for a few moments.

"But I was afraid," she said. "That's why I left Bearach and made things worse."

He smoothed her golden hair back from her temple, then reverently traced the arch of her brow with his thumb. "You should've come to me for help."

"I didn't know what you would do. I feared you would evict all of us, and Eli is too old to endure the elements."

He frowned. "I would never do such a thing. How can you think I would?"

"I didn't know you then like I do now. I have to keep reminding myself you're not like most men."

He shook his head. "You have the right of it."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaned forward and lightly kissed his lips.

Lust blazed through him and he could not stop the low, breathy moan which escaped him. Drawing her close, he continued the kiss, turning it from innocence to a flash fire of carnal yearning.

Saints! He did not see how he would ever get enough of this woman. She threw her leg over his hip, spurring his reckless urges. Lying on her back, she pulled at his shoulders. He needed no more encouragement. He was more than ready to sink down into her perfect bliss yet again. And again, if she would let him.

She turned him into someone else… someone he did not know… someone happy.

When he drove himself into her yielding wetness, the magnitude almost overwhelmed him. Holding himself still, he absorbed the moment, absorbed the heat of her. He never wanted to forget this flawless but brief instant, the most amazing of his life.