As he cupped her buttocks in both hands and shifted her hips higher, she tightened her legs around him, bucking and digging her heels into his back. He dipped his tongue into her heat, all the while gyrating his thumb against her swollen button. She cried out as he slid two fingers deep inside and returned to sucking, pulling, and thrusting. A groan ripped from deep in her throat. She rocked hard against him, losing herself in the delicious delirium. Waves of bliss crashed across her. Body and soul hummed with the most ancient of pleasures.
With a smug, rumbling laugh, he stretched out beside her, nuzzling and nibbling her throat as she gasped for air.
“Proud of yourself?” she said once she was able to speak.
“Should I not be?” He smiled down at her while trailing a fingertip between her breasts.
“Just remember. All’s fair,” she warned as she slid downward and shoved his plaid to the side.
When he hissed in a sharp breath, she couldn’t help but smile. Palming his bollocks in one hand, she licked the length of his swollen shaft. His groaning became louder when she swirled and sucked the head, then swallowed him as deeply as she could.
“Lore a’mighty, woman.” The sound he made was something akin to a growl as he arched his back while she alternately sucked and stroked.
She moved against the ridge of his shin as she kissed and sucked until he begged for mercy. Aching and wet, impatience and aching need took over. She straddled him, and slowly slid down his hardness until well seated with a satisfying wiggle. “You know I am not a patient woman. I couldn’t wait any longer,” she said with another slow shifting of her hips.
Gray pulled her forward and caught one of her nipples in his mouth, nibbling and sucking until she straightened and rocked hard and fast.
He arched and bucked, yanking her harder against him. As he emptied, she rode faster and pumped ever harder. As he shuddered one last time, she reached the pinnacle. A raw shriek tore from her as blissful release exploded through her. She convulsed with the waves of pleasure, then collapsed in a gasping heap on top of his heaving chest. His arms tightened around her and held her close.
“Trulie.”
Struggling to find the energy to lift her head, she pushed her damp curls out of her eyes. “What?”
“Ye are mine.” His expression was hard and serious, his eyes narrow and stern. “For all eternity, ye ken? Ye belong to none but me.”
Her already hammering heart skipped a beat and a delicious shiver having absolutely nothing to do with what had just transpired rippled across her.
“Say it, woman.” He framed her face with his hands. “Say it to me now.”
She stretched and kissed his chin, then offered a lazy smile. “I am yours for all eternity. I promise.”
He gathered her to him once more, traced a finger down the center of her back, then settled the cheek of her ass in one hand. “Rest a bit now, woman. As I said, we have a long night ahead.”
CHAPTER15
“Rory swears he saw no one.” Colum stood beside Gray on the outer gallery overlooking the remains of the stable. Charred posts poked up through piles of ash like scarred fingers reaching for the dismal, overcast sky. Scorched blocks of foundation stones marked the boundaries of what had once been one of the finest stables in all the Highlands. Colum gave a disgusted snort. “Perhaps one of the stable lads left a brazier unattended.”
Gray leaned forward; his elbows propped on the damp stone railing. “Perhaps,” he said. But doubtful. Especially after what Trulie had told him she sensed right before the fire.
He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. His gaze followed two soot-covered lads raking debris into a pile. “So ye truly believe it was an accident?”
Colum’s face darkened as he resettled his feet into a wider stance. “I do not.”
“Neither do I.” Gray rolled his shoulders, shrugging off the misting rain. “Two such fires in the same year is no accident.”
“Lady Trulie couldna see the bastard who set either of them?”
Colum’s question was forgotten as Gray spotted a new figure joining the handful of youngsters sorting through the blackened mess.
At the far side of the rubble, pawing through ash and chunks of charred debris was a worker Gray didn’t know. A man of average height and build, capped with nondescript mud-brown hair hanging in chopped-off, dripping hanks. The steady drizzle plastered the man’s gray tunic to his bent body. His hands and knees were black from sorting through the remains. The only distinguishing feature Gray noticed about the stranger was that he hitched to his left whenever he took a step. Gray looked closer and discovered why the man walked with such a strange gait. His left foot looked like a large misshapen stone wrapped in wet leather.
Gray nodded at the man. “Who is he?”
Colum dismissed the mud-covered soul with a shrug. “One of Aileas’s retinue when she first arrived at MacKenna keep. Part of her dowry, I believe.”
“I dinna recall ever seeing him before.” Gray paced the length of the balcony, watching as the man fished out bits and pieces of twisted metal and tossed the shards into a wooden bucket.
“He works with the smithy,” Colum said. “See how he searches for scraps of iron?”
