“I’m clean,” she said.“Come here.”
“Not yet, my precious one.”While keeping his gaze locked with hers, he ran the rinsing cloth down between her legs and slowly massaged her, loving how her breath quickened and she bucked into his touch.“I’ll not use soap here, for I want to taste yer true essence.”
“You are a cruel man, Mr.MacAlester.”Her breathlessness fueled his need to give her even more.“You know what I need,” she said, fixing him with a look that nearly undid him.
He went to his knees, hooked her legs over his shoulders, and feasted, licking and sucking, until the level of her moans encouraged him to grant her relief with his fingers.He’d promised not to join her in the bed until he washed, and he meant to keep his word—even though it was about to kill him.
“And now I will wash,” he said, his voice sounding strained even to him, as he returned to the cabinet and added water to the second basin.
“No,” she said from behind him.“Now, I will wash you.”She cleaned his face, shoulders, arms, and back, torturing him by trailing her nipples and the warm softness of her lush curves against him while sprinkling kisses across the dampness of his clean skin.When she dropped to her knees and washed his legs, he held his breath and stared straight ahead, knowing she intended to torment him with the same deliciousness that he had tormented her.He groaned and curled his toes as she washed his length, then took it into her mouth while palming his bollocks.The harder she sucked, the tighter he clenched his fists to keep from burying his hands in her hair and using her mouth with abandon.
“I must have ye!”He caught her up, tossed her onto the bed, then covered her with his body.Her wicked smile not only gave him pause, but dared him to take her and make her cries of pleasure echo through the entirety of the keep.“Lore, woman, I will never get enough of ye.”
“Good.Now, show me.”
He drove into her, determined to prove to the lady that he meant every word.
* * *
Jessa saton the wide windowsill, hugging her knees and staring into the darkness.With no light other than the moon and the lone candle on the mantel, she hadn’t been able to find any clothes of her own, so she’d settled for one of Grant’s shirts she’d come across in the wardrobe.With its sleeves rolled up past her elbows and its length hitting her below the knees, it served the purpose just as well as one of those old-fashioned nightgowns—no, not nightgowns, but shifts.She had to get this century’s language straight.
This century.She nearly choked on that.Here she was, barely twenty-four hours into the eighteenth century and already married and more perfectlyconsummatedthan she had ever been in her life, and without the protection of a condom or any other means of birth control.Allowing herself a dismal sigh, she tried to calculate exactly where she was in her cycle.Raised as ago-to-church-on-Christmas-and-Easter-onlyCatholic, she had a vague understanding of the rhythm method but understood quite clearly its unreliability.That’s just what she needed.To get pregnant immediately in a time when giving birth was as dangerous as playing with an armed hand grenade, maybe even more so.
A low, mumbling groan from the bed pulled her from her muddled thoughts.She glanced over at the shadowy form of the massive Highlander sprawled across the tangled sheets.Damn, she loved him even though she didn’t understand how it could be possible to love someone this hard after just a day.
Fated mates, several had said.According to Mairwen, the mates met, joined, and loved each other in every incarnation.Maybe that was why love had happened so hard and fast.Their souls had recognized one another, known each other throughout eternity.She’d also said that those who didn’t find each other in any particular incarnation were doomed to a lifetime of feeling as though something was missing.
She chewed on her bottom lip as her inner demons pelted her with insecurities.Was this new love strong enough to endure the eighteenth century?Was it strong enough to last through all that this era threatened?What if Morrigan returned?Better yet, what the hellwasMorrigan?Would that thing eventually go after Emily, too?
“Jessa?”His voice rasped with an endearingly soft sleepiness, calling to her on an unfathomable level.It was as though her heart heard him before her ears did.
“Over here,” she said, wishing he had stayed asleep.She couldn’t even make sense to herself.How could she make sense to him?
“Come back to bed, love.I miss ye.”
Propping her chin on her arms, she turned her attention back to the dark, velvety blue of the night sky.“I’ll be there in a minute.Try to go back to sleep.You said you needed to catch up, remember?”
The bedclothes rustled, making her close her eyes and listen for his feet thudding on the floor.A moment later, he gently touched her shoulder.“Dinna leave, Jessa,” he said with a quiet earnestness.“Please.”
She turned to deny that she would do such a thing, but the words caught in her throat.Even though she had not admitted it to herself, he had said exactly what she was subconsciously considering.Her heart shifted with a decisive thump.No matter what century she found herself in, she couldn’t survive without him.“I won’t leave, but I also won’t promise that I’ll be easy to live with while I try to adjust to this time in history.”
He gave her a lopsided grin.“And ye think I shall be easy to live with?”
She returned his grin.“Probably not.”
“Yer Emily is still here.”He moved through the room, his body a large, shimmering ghostliness in the moonlight.The deep, hollow pop of a cork told her he’d gone to the table for wine.“While ye slept, I slipped out and discovered Sawny at his post in the hallway.He said Mairwen promised they wouldna leave until ye had time to settle things with Mistress Emily.”
While she found that somewhat reassuring, she also wondered about theservant at his postcomment.“And where exactly is Sawny’s post?”
“Mrs.Robeson has him sleep beside our bedchamber door in case we need anything with haste.”
“That is terrible.”Not only because the boy would overhear everything, but also because it couldn’t be comfortable on the floor.“You need to tell Mrs.Robeson not to do that to that poor kid.”
He shook his head as he offered her a glass of wine.“She’ll not listen.Mrs.Robeson does as she pleases.”
“She’s the housekeeper, right?”Jessa tried a small sip of the wine and decided it was bearable.
“Aye.”
