His hand left her hip to slide up her ribs, cupping her breast through the fabric of her dress. Even through the layers, histouch sent lightning through her. Her nipples peaked instantly, tight and aching, and when his thumb circled one, she cried out.
“Shh,” he murmured, though his own breathing was ragged. “Unless ye truly want an audience, lass, ye need to be quiet.”
Leona bit her lip, trying to stifle the sounds he was coaxing from her. But it was impossible. Every touch, every kiss, every deliberate stroke of his thumb made pleasure spike through her until she was trembling.
His mouth found hers again, swallowing her moans as his hand kneaded her breast with rough possession. The tree bark bit into her back, but she didn’t care. Couldn’t care about anything except the man devouring her, touching her, making her feel things she’d never imagined.
His hips rolled again, grinding his arousal against her, and the friction made her whimper. She could feel herself growing wet, dampness gathering between her thighs in a way that should have embarrassed her but only made her want more.
“Do ye feel what ye do to me?” Murdock’s voice was rough as gravel, his accent thickening with arousal. “Do ye feel how hard I am for ye? How much I want ye?”
“Aye,” she managed, her voice breaking. “I feel it.”
“Good.” His hand left her breast to grip her thigh, hitching it around his hip. The new angle pressed his arousal directly against her core, and they both groaned.
He kissed her again, harder this time, more desperate. His hand slid higher up her thigh, bunching her skirts, seeking bare skin.
Leona knew she should stop him. Knew they were in a public forest, barely hidden from view, where anyone could stumble upon them. Knew this was mad, reckless, dangerous, and completely inappropriate.
But when his calloused palm found the bare skin above her stocking, when his fingers traced higher with clear intent, she didn’t push him away. She pulled him closer.
“Please,” she heard herself whisper against his mouth. “Murdock, please…”
A burst of laughter from the festival cut through the haze of desire.
They both froze, breathing hard, staring at each other in the darkness.
Murdock cursed viciously, his hand stilling on her thigh. “We need to stop.”
“I ken,” Leona agreed, though her body screamed in protest.
But neither of them moved. They stayed pressed together, her leg still hitched around his hip, his hand still on her bare thigh, both trembling with need.
“We cannae do this here,” Murdock said, though his thumb stroked her skin in maddening circles. “Ye deserve better than to be taken against a tree in the dark.”
“I daenae care!”
He released her leg, stepping back before his control shattered completely. But his hand stayed on her face, his thumb tracing her swollen lips.
They stood there in the darkness, reluctant to break the spell, both knowing that once they returned to the festival, they’d have to pretend again. Smile and act like nothing had happened. Like they weren’t both burning with unfulfilled desire.
“Murdock?” Leona finally found her voice.
“Aye?”
“I daenae want to dance with anyone else.”
Something in his expression shifted. The last thread of his control snapped, and she saw it happen. Saw the moment the Beast of Ainsley gave up fighting what he wanted.
“Christ,” he breathed. “Ye’ll be the death of me, lass.”
His mouth crashed down onto hers again, and this time there was no hesitation. No attempt at restraint. Just raw, unfiltered need.
He walked her backward, deeper into the trees, away from the path where anyone might stumble upon them. Her back hit another tree trunk, but before she could register the impact, his hands were everywhere.
One tangled in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. The other traced down her side, over her ribs, her waist, her hip, leaving fire in its wake. His tongue swept into her mouth with devastating skill, and she moaned into the kiss.
“Quiet, lass,” he murmured against her lips. “We’re nae that far away. The whole village will ken if ye keep this up.”
