“Make love to me,” he pleaded.
Elizabet peered up at him, her heart flippingpainfully against her breast. She touched his face reverently, caressing him, loving him. “You never have to ask.”
Didn’t he realize?
Couldn’t he tell?
Her body craved him every instant they were together. Her heart yearned for his every touch and caress.
He had been distant and brooding since Seana’s appearance, and she had been afeared that he regretted their vows. There was something between the two of them, she suspected, but he had remained with her and that is all that mattered.
Her breath quickened as he bent to kiss her lips, and her heart jolted excitedly as his arms enfolded her. His warm, big hands caressed her body, touching her everywhere, awakening her senses once more. He paused at her bottom, cupping his hand beneath it, and lifted it gently, his breath coming ragged in her ear.
Elizabet closed her eyes in absolute joy as he bent further to lift the hem of her gown, and all she could do was cling to his neck for support as his hands slid beneath her dress. He kissed her mouth, thrusting and tasting as she knew he would do elsewhere... slick and hot. And then he moved to her neck, biting gently, kissing her, and God have mercy, but she never wanted him to stop!
He dipped his face into her bosom, kissing and lapping the valley of her breasts.
The barely restrained passion in his every touch left her breathless and titillated and panting with desire.
He lifted her up and without a word carried her to the table, setting her atop it. His eyes never left her as he pushed her back on it.
Elizabet’s breath caught as he lifted up her dress to unveil her to his eyes. It was one thing to reveal herselfin the darkness, with a single taper lit against the night, and another entirely to do it by daylight when nothing was hidden from his eyes.
The intensity of his expression took her breath away. He stared down at her, his chest heaving with desire, and his arms tensed at his sides.
She swallowed, and opened for him, wanting him to come inside.
She belonged to him.
He belonged to her.
And she wanted no secrets between them, no barriers, no shame.
He sucked in a breath at what she so brazenly revealed and whispered, “So verra beautiful.”
With deft movements, he divested himself of his garb and then fell to his knees before her, gloriously naked, to drink of her body.
Elizabet arched her back, eagerly anticipating the touch of his tongue. It was warm and silky when it came at last, and she moaned with desire. He lapped her hungrily, tasting her, kissing her, and as he did, the remembered taste of herself upon his lips made her cry out.
She shuddered with exhilaration as warmth flooded through her body and he groaned at the taste of it. He stood then, looking down upon her, his eyes dark with passion. Still quivering with her climax, she opened for him, and he took himself into his hand, pushing into her body. His head fell back and he cried out in pleasure as he entered her.
He made love to her until she came to a second climax and then a third, until she thought he would never stop, until she trembled beneath him one last time, sobbing with joy.
And then he gave a final, violent thrust and shuddered with his own release.
“I love you,” he cried out. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”
She thought he meant he was sorry for hurting her, but he hadn’t hurt her at all. She reached out to embrace his head to her bosom, reassuring him, lacing her fingers through his hair, cooing softly to him.
“’Tis alright,” she whispered, stroking the hair from his damp face. “Everything is going to be alright.”
Nothing was goingto be alright.
Broc dressed himself in the tunic Elizabet had fashioned for him, grateful that it fit. He wrapped himself afterward in his plaid, praying she would believe him.
“Bring the hound,” he directed, his heart squeezing painfully.
“Where are we going?” she asked when he took her by the hand and led her out of the hut.
