A dark laugh broke through him, and Dougal helped her to stand, wrapping her in the linen drying cloth. “I wanted to pleasure you, Celeste. And we’re not finished yet.”
She stepped out of the tub, her skin freezing at the cool air. Dougal kept her covered in the linen cloth while he led her toward a small pallet in the corner. It was covered with fur, and he took a moment to dry her off before laying her back against the soft coverlet. He stood before her, his eyes searing as he unfastened his trews and finished undressing.
His body was lean and powerful, his legs muscled from riding. And his manhood was heavy and erect when he knelt down beside her.
“I’m cold,” she whispered, beckoning for him to lie atop her. His skin was warmer than she’d expected, and Dougal pulled another coverlet atop both of them. He rested his body weight on his forearms as he stared down at her.
“I don’t think this was what you intended when you asked for my protection.”
Celeste shook her head but moved her legs apart, bringing his aroused manhood directly in contact with her slick heat. Although it had never been painful with Edmon, never had she craved his body inside hers.
She wanted to feel Dougal moving within her, and she pressed her hips against his. Yes, this was exactly what she’d hoped for several days ago. But she’d never dreamed it would feel like this. “I trust you,” she whispered.
Lifting her knees, she guided him inside her, her body stretching against his fullness. “Yes,” she breathed, marveling that it could be this good.
Dougal’s face was strained taut, but his mouth trailed down the column of her throat in a wet path to her breasts. As he suckled one, he plunged in deep, intensifying her arousal. She felt the answering pull, her body needing his.
Slowly, he moved within her, a fluid rhythm that felt so good, she pushed back, welcoming the thrust. He raised one of her legs over one hip, and in his eyes, she saw the man she’d loved for so long.
She’d been wrong to leave him. Dougal never would have let anything happen to her, nor would he have let her starve. The two years she’d spent with Edmon paled in comparison to one night with this man.
“More,” she urged, holding his hips. He guided her legs around his waist, elevating her hips until he penetrated harder. Over and over he plunged, forcing her to meet each thrust.
“Look at me,” he commanded. “I want to see your eyes when I’m inside you.”
She did, and the feral look pulled her apart. He was marking her, forcing her to see the man who was pleasuring her. And God above, the intensity was mind-stealing. He was raw and untamed, quickening the pace until she could do nothing but hold fast and surrender.
Liquid heat pulsed inside, and she shuddered, climaxing around him as he continued to drive inside her.
“Let go,” she pleaded, grasping his face with her hands. She couldn’t bear much more of this. But he only kissed her hard, continuing the relentless rhythm. As if he was trying to drive out the memories of any man but him.
She couldn’t catch her breath, for it was coming in swift gasps, until at last he came in a fierce thrust. His breath shuddered as he pumped inside her, his arms gripping her hard.
Their bodies were joined in a way that made a mockery of what her marriage had been. This was what it meant to share a man’s bed. She’d never known, and though Dougal was still buried deep within her, there was a joy that he’d awakened.
“I liked that,” she murmured with a lazy smile, pulling him into a kiss. But neither of them spoke of what the morrow would bring. And she could not say what would happen anymore.
There could be a child, a memory of this night. A child who would save both her and her sister. A wild hope filled her, that perhaps she could have everything. She could reclaim Eiloch and later bring Dougal back to stay with her.
But when he rolled over, curling his body around hers, a sense of darkness surrounded her. No. He would never give his child another man’s name. If he knew that she had wanted him in her bed for that purpose, he would never forgive her.
Once again, she would have to choose, for she could not have both.
Dougal awoke in the middle of the night to find Celeste naked in his arms. Her body was warm, her hair tangled down her back. He stroked the length of it, and her mouth pressed a sleepy kiss against his chest.
Though he’d grown hard and his shaft was demanding more, he held back. She was not a virgin, and he could claim her again if she would have him. And yet . . . even though he’d sated his lust, he’d sensed that there was more at play here. She’d had a reason for inviting him into her bed, and he could not guess what it was.
He moved her atop him, enjoying the sensation of her naked body against his. He caressed her skin, down her spine to her round bottom. Almost immediately, his shaft surged against her.
“Is it morning?” she murmured, raising her head.
“Not yet.” He reached up to explore her skin, and she startled him when she raised up, easing his erection against her. She wasn’t entirely ready for him, but he stroked her, kindling the response he wanted. She was tentative, almost hesitant in the way she held herself. But as her body relaxed, he felt the wetness between her legs. This time, when she pressed herself upon him, she welcomed him inside.
“We can’t stay here,” she whispered. “Your brother said we have to leave before dawn.”
“Soon.” He lifted her up, reveling when she sank down against him. As she moved in rhythm, he was torn between wanting to hear her cry out in release . . . and questioning why she had chosen to lie with him.
Aye, it was an intense pleasure, one he welcomed. But he suspected that this time together would come to an end.
