Diarmid lifted himself up onto his forearms, looking like an absolute rogue. His wild, dark hair fell to his muscular shoulders in disarray, his gaze so hot it might have burned her. “You’re going to have to be quieter than that, princess.”
Cara was thoroughly ruined, she realized as she savored the rough sound of his voice. She’d only ever been in bed with two men, and there was no comparison to be made. She doubted there ever would be.
She gasped as his mouth returned to her, licking and sucking as his fingers slipped inside of her. The sensations that had plagued her every time she was close to him, the ache, theburning, the mounting pressure somewhere inside her built up until she was certain she would burst into pieces.
“Diarmid,” she cried, unable to comprehend what was happening. Just when she wondered when his sweet torment would end, she did burst, in a way she couldn’t even put to words. It was as though the whole world fell away, taking her with it, and when she opened her eyes an extraordinary sense of calm descended.
Then the dinner bell rang.
“I like the sound of my name on your lips,” he said, helping her up off the bed.
“What happened?” she asked.
That cheeky grin reappeared. “What’s supposed to happen every time you lay with someone.”
He helped her back into her shift and gown, turning her about so he could lace it for her.
“It happens to men as well?” Cara struggled to wrap her mind around this entirely new experience. “Did you feel it as well?”
“It does happen to men, at the end,” he explained. “This time I wanted to focus on you.”
“So you could have had it happen, but you didn’t? Did I do something wrong?”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, locking their eyes. “You did nothing wrong. We would have had to do a whole lot more than that for it to happen to me, which is something I’m more than willing to explore later.”
“Why later?” That had been so incredible, she felt it only right that Diarmid should share in it with her.
“Because if we don’t get to the hall for dinner, you’ll get to explain what we just did to everyone else.”
The dinner bell. She’d utterly ignored it. Letting out another oath, Cara hurried ahead of him to the main hall.
And the man who believed they’d be getting married.
Chapter Twenty-Five
He was goingstraight to hell.
And it was absolutely worth it.
Diarmid struggled through the meal, unable to think of anything except the way Cara tasted on his lips, so sweet and feminine.
The way she sounded as she cried out his name while he pleasured her.
The way she felt as she came apart in his arms.
Oh, he was going to hell alright. But he’d be grinning like a fool on his way there.
Cara made a point of looking everywhere but at Diarmid. He knew this because, God help him, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d been with more women than he cared to count, and not one of them had captured him so completely. Though they’d all been enjoyable, not a single one had been unforgettable. But he hadn’t even bedded Cara and he knew he’d never forget her.
Cormac spoke to her, forcing her to look in Diarmid’s direction. Her eyes went to him only briefly, but it was enough to send streaks of pink bursting to her cheeks. No doubt because her mind strayed to the same place his had been residing.
They agreed to meet before everyone left the hall, since fewer people would be milling about outside while the games were happening. After eating only a portion of her plate, Cara excused herself, retreating to her room. When dinner was finished,Diarmid admitted to being too tired for games that night, leaving the hall and sneaking to Cara’s window to help her out of it.
They rushed through the narrow patch of grass separating the halls, the light long gone now that they’d entered the dark half of the year. With her hand held tightly in his, Diarmid threw open the back door to the guest hall.
To find Finn standing just inside the front entrance, staring straight at them. Finn shut the door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well,” he sighed, “I certainly wish I’d remembered my harp.” He strode over to the hearth in the center of the room, waiting. “Diarmid, a word?”
Cara dropped Diarmid’s hand like it had caught fire, all but running to his room and shutting the door. A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Diarmid’s stomach as he joined Finn near the hearth.
