His hands stroked her breasts, lightly circling her nipples, cupping and squeezing her harder as he slowly slid in and out, drawing himself to his full length before quickly sinking back inside.
She felt the tickle of his breath at her ear. “Have I shocked you?” he asked softly, holding her hips tight against him for a moment. He was planted so deeply, he seemed to touch the very heart of her.
“No. Yes. Maybe a little bit,” she admitted shyly. “But I like it.” She trusted him completely. There was so much that she did not know, Isabel didn’t bother being embarrassed or shy. Rory had opened an entirely new sensual world for her, and she wanted to explore every inch of it with him. She made a small sound of pleasure as, still holding her tight, he circled and rocked his hips, stirring her to an erotic frenzy.
“Do you know how long I’ve ached to do this?” He thrust hard to emphasize his words. “Do you know what torture it was for me not to slide into you when you snuggled your bottom against me this last month?”
“I didn’t know,” she gasped between slow, deep thrusts.
“There are many things you do not know, my sweet. But I intend to teach you all of them.” The sensual promise of his words sent a thrill shooting through her. He nuzzled her neck and kissed the curve of her shoulder. No longer content with lazy strokes, he increased his rhythm, and when he knew she was approaching release, his hand reached around in front of her. With one deft caress of his thumb, Isabel felt herself tremble, shudder, and break apart. He stiffened from behind her, but instead of spilling himself inside her as he’d done last night, he withdrew at the last minute and pulsed his release onto the bedding.
Fighting the haze of delirium, Isabel needed a moment to realize what he’d done. Despite the euphoria of her release, she felt strangely empty. As if he’d deprived her of part of himself. When the rise and fall of his chest slowed and his breathing returned to normal, she turned to him with the question in her eyes.
He took a long look at her and sighed. Clearly, he would rather not have this conversation. “I’ve taken your innocence, Isabel, but I will not risk getting you with child.”
A sharp pain twisted in her chest. To hear his intentions spoken with such brutal honesty after the intimacies they’d just shared knocked the air right out of her. Emotion burned behind her eyes, and she rolled on her back to hide her disappointment. What had she thought? That he would change his mind just by making love to her? That he would fall in love with her as easily as she had him?
The errant thought stopped her cold.
She loved him.The truth hit her square in the heart with a certainty that could not be denied. After last night, she could no longer pretend, even to herself. She’d fallen hopelessly, deeply in love with her handfast husband. Each time she looked at him, her heart flipped. Each time he smiled, she felt as if the sun were shining just for her. His merest touch set her aflame.
She loved his strength, his honor, his prowess, but most of all the solid, steadying force of his presence. She loved the way this fierce warrior could touch her with such gentleness. She loved the way he made her feel warm and protected, as if nothing could ever harm her.
At Dunvegan, she’d found what she’d spent a lifetime longing for. Rory had given her a family and provided a place for her to feel needed and protected. And he’d given her a new perspective on her own family, making her realize that her perception of her own father’s and brothers’ feelings might be more complicated than a simple matter of not loving her.
But he would not give her his child.
She should admire his honor and nobility but was instead stung by his ability to think rationally while she was in the throes of newly discovered love. At the most amazing moment of her life, when she’d given him her heart, he’d hit her with the hard truth. Unless she changed his mind, the man she loved would marry another in a little over six months.
“Second thoughts?” he asked softly.
She shook her head, emotion gathering at the back of her throat threatening to spill. She could not allow him to see how much his forthrightness had affected her. Most important, she didn’t want to give him any reason to think she would not be content with their arrangement. She knew Rory. He would stop if he realized how much he was hurting her. She pasted a happy smile on her face. “Of course not. I merely did not understand how these things worked.”
Rory looked relieved and let the matter drop.
As he took her in his arms again, Isabel fought the rise of panic in her chest. Time was running out. What if her plan did not work? What if he did not fall in love with her? He kissed her with such tenderness that Isabel understood the only thing she could do. She must squeeze every bit of happiness she could out of the next few months, because it might need to last her a lifetime.
Hours later, Rory dragged himself from bed. He could linger no longer, no matter how tempted. His gaze fell on the naked siren on his bed. He dressed quickly and quietly so as not to wake her. The lass deserved her rest.
They’d made love more times than he could count, but still it was not enough. His hunger for her seemed insatiable. Her openness and her uninhibited passion astounded him. This morning when he woke with her soft bottom nestled against his arousal, he’d wickedly done what he’d wanted to do for the past month. He’d thought he would shock her, but she’d welcomed him, returning his eagerness with her own.
How could he defend himself against such a gift?
But something bothered him. He hadn’t missed the flash of pain in her eyes when he’d reminded her of his duty. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he also did not want to encourage false hope. If he could find a way to persuade the king to return Trotternish to the MacLeods without Argyll’s help, then maybe it would be possible. He’d been racking his brain for another way, and so far nothing had come to him. But he had some time to think, as King James had yet to agree to hear the matter—even with Argyll’s support.
Still, Rory wondered whether he’d done the right thing in making love to her. For either of them. The intimacy, the connection between them, was already strong. What would it be like in six months’ time? It was only sex, he told himself. But he knew that for the lie it was. What he’d shared with Isabel was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Raw, shattering, soul-encompassing sex. Sex that made him lose control and spill his seed inside her. A mistake he’d never made before. Ever.
He slipped out of the room and headed down the winding stairs, making his way outside and down the path to the old keep. His men would be waiting for him. He’d just entered the hall when his brother caught his eye.
“Sleep well?” Alex asked innocently.
Rory frowned. “It’s none of your damn business. Where are Douglas and Colin?”
“Waiting for you in the private dining room.”
He followed Rory into the small room behind the great hall. With Alex recovered, they’d gathered to discuss the threat of attack by the Mackenzies.
His guardsmen rose as he entered. Another of the king’s damn restrictions, Rory thought. Limiting the number of his household men. Colin stepped forward with a letter in his hand. “It arrived only this morning,” he explained. “I did not think you wished to be disturbed.”
