Her blows were coming faster now. Each was driven by hurt more than anger, leaving her drained. But he barely moved, as though her punches were like feathers grazing his skin.
His hands rose to stop hers, eyes softening as he looked at her.
“Enough,” he said quietly, eyeing her hands.
Though it was a command, his tone was gentle. And the softness nearly broke her.
Tears blurred her vision. This was foolish, she knew. But her emotions already swelled too much for her to pretend.
It was confusing. She wanted to scream. She wanted to sob. But more than anything, more than pride, more than sense, she wanted him to hold her.
William stood there, watching her with such intensity that it made her breath hitch. His eyes searched hers as though he could read something deep beneath the surface.
Then he stepped closer. So close that there was no space left between them. His hand slid from her wrist to her back. Then, he pulled her against him.
Sorcha found herself pressed against his chest, his heat seeping into her bones.
That was all it took.
She shattered.
A shudder racked her body; every nerve was calling out for him. She melted into him, her arms rising of their own accord to wrap around him.
She clung to him like the air she needed to breathe, her fingers curling into his coat.
She was aware of everything. Aware of the rapid beat of his heart beneath her ear, aware of the strength of his arms that held her so securely, aware of his… growing arousal.
Her desire flared in response, heat curling deep in her core.
Love.
She loved him. She did not know when it had begun. Only that it was there. And it was fierce and all-consuming.
She didn’t know why it possessed her so much, but she couldn’t control herself. She was far too gone to care about dignity, pride, or… whatever else.
Her lips parted with a shaky breath.
“I want ye,” she whispered. “I want ye to take me tonight.” She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining. “Before I leave by midnight.”
30
The air between them crackled with tension, such that she could almost see lightning. Her heart thundered in her chest like a wild drumbeat.
What madness had seized her to demand that?
She had just burned the robe. She had just sworn to leave him behind. Yet here she stood, with her body pressed against his, having made a shameless request that she refused to take back.
“I want ye,” she had whispered, the confession slipping past her lips like a heavy secret. “I want ye to take me tonight… before I leave by midnight.”
His arms had encircled her waist then, squeezing her gently. His jaw had clenched, and his eyes had churned with conflicting emotions.
William blinked slowly now, his mesmerizing brown eyes locking onto her own. He was searching, weighing, looking almost confused. As if a battle was unfolding in his head. She could see it so clearly, like a push and pull against whatever invisible chains bound him.
But above it all, she felt the truth. It was right there against her thigh. His arousal. It grew inch by inch, mirroring her own. Except hers was more a wetness pooling between her thighs, making them clench involuntarily.
Aye,I must be possessed by a wicked spirit, for I crave him like air.
Or perhaps her heart was simply foolish, that traitorous thing.
