"Aye. Tomorrow." His lips brushed her temple. "But nae taenight. Taenight, we're just us."
His hands moved over her body with gentle purpose, washing away the dust and tension of the road. She turned in his arms, water spilling over the edge of the tub, and kissed him with a hunger born of fear and need.
"Make me forget," she breathed against his mouth. "Just fer taenight. Help me ferget everything except this."
"Aye, lass." His voice was rough with desire and something deeper. "I can dae that."
He lifted her from the tub, water streaming from their bodies, and carried her to the bed. The sheets were cool against her heated skin as he laid her down, covering her body with his own.
The inn’s fire crackled low, its flickering flames casting restless shadows across the rough stone walls of the chamber. The air was thick with the scent of woodsmoke and the faint tang of ale, a reminder of the evening’s meager comforts.
The others were elsewhere, their voices muffled in distant corners of the inn, leaving the two of them alone in the dimly lit space. The silence between them hummed with unspoken need, a current that pulled them closer with every passing moment.
His thumb brushed her lower lip, a gesture both tender and commanding, and she leaned into his touch, her breath quickening. His other hand slid down her back, pulling her against him, and she felt the hard line of his body, a stark contrast to the softness of her own.
He pressed her back against the bed, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was both fierce and desperate. His mouth was a storm, his tongue demanding, and she met him with equal urgency, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
His hands roamed over her, tracing the lines of her body, his touch both gentle and ravenous. She arched into him, her skin alive with the sensation of his fingers brushing her waist, her hips, the curve of her thighs.
He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples, and she gasped, her head falling back as pleasure bloomed low in her belly. He teased her, his touch slow and deliberate, his mouth murmuring filthy promises against her skin.
“Tòrr,”she whispered, her voice hoarse, and he looked up, his eyes burning with need.
She reached for his manhood, her fingers wrapping around him, and he groaned, his head falling back as she stroked him, slow and deliberate. But he pulled away, his hands gripping her hips, positioning her at the edge of the bed.
“On yer knees,”he commanded, his voice low and rough, and she obeyed without question, her heart pounding.
He stepped closer, his hands tangling in her hair, and she opened her mouth, taking him in, her tongue swirling around him. He groaned, his hips thrusting forward, and she deepened the rhythm, her lips sliding up and down his length, her hands gripping his thighs.
“Liliane,”he called her name, his voice tight, and he pulled her up, his lips crashing down on hers again, his taste sharp and salty.
He pushed her back onto the bed, his hands roaming over her, his touch urgent. He spread her legs, his fingers tracing the wetness between her thighs, and she moaned, her hips lifting to meet him.He didn’t make her wait. He positioned himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers, and then he thrust, filling her completely.
She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, as he began to move, slow and deep, his hips rolling into hers. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her, building, building, until she was on the edge, teetering, ready to fall.
He quickened his pace, his hands gripping her hips, his thrusts relentless. She met him with every movement, her body arching, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
“Tòrr,”she cried out, her voice breaking, and he growled, his lips finding hers again, his kiss fierce and hungry.
And then, just as she was about to shatter, he pulled back, his eyes searching hers, his breath ragged.“Not yet,”he murmured, his voice thick with need.“Not like this.”
He rolled them, positioning her on top of him, his hands guiding her as she straddled him, his manhood still buried deep inside her. She moved, slow and deliberate, her hips rocking, her breasts brushing his chest. He watched her, his eyes dark and hungry, his hands roaming over her body, his touch possessive.
She gave him everything, her body moving in rhythm with his, their breaths mingling, their hearts pounding in unison. The tension, the fear, the uncertainty—it all faded away, leaving only that moment, that connection, this raw, desperate need.
The pleasure built, and she felt the orgasm coiling tight, ready to explode. He was cumming too, she could see it. And almost immediately, they orgasmed together, and she felt his seed pouring inside her.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, her head on his chest, his fingers trailing patterns on her bare shoulder. The fire had burned low, casting the room in shadow.
Dawn would come soon enough. And with it, the reckoning they'd been racing toward since the moment Tòrr had bid for her at that auction.
CHAPTER 39
Dawn broke cold and merciless over the Highland landscape, painting the sky in shades of blood and ash. Tòrr sat astride his horse, watching the horizon lighten while his men made their final preparations behind him.
They had been riding for the better part of the day before they saw Foulis Castle rising in the distance, its stone walls dark against the grey sky. The closer they drew, the more Tòrr's instincts screamed warning. Something felt off. The air too quiet, the approach too easy.
"Something's wrong."
