It was the wrong thing to say.
She lashed out in anger. “Is that all this is to you, Lachlan? Another mission? Another bag of silver to collect?” Scorn dripped from her voice. “I thought you might have changed. That after two years of fighting for Robert you might realize that there were things worth fighting for. But you’re exactly the same. It’s still all about the money.”
Damned right it was all about the money! Free Bella. Get the job done. Collect his reward. Pay off his debts. Retire in peace. Follow nobody’s orders but his own. That was all he wanted.
He stared down into her upturned face, seeing the beautiful features so achingly close, and felt a pull of desire too strong to resist. Nay, it wasn’t all he wanted. He wantedher. Every bit as badly as he had before.
His fists clenched. His control pulled taut as a bowstring.
This was all her fault. She was confusing him. He didn’t care, damn it. Not about Bruce. Not about the Highland Guard. And sure as hell not about her. No loyalties to get in the way. No loyalties to betray him.
He was a selfish bastard. A mercenary. Not much better than the pirate she’d first accused him of being.
He knew three emotions in his life when it came to women: disappointment, hatred, and lust. Not much to offer one of the most noble women in Scotland who’d become a hero.
Damn her for doing this to him.
“Three years,” he corrected. It was three years ago he’d joined the other members of the Highland Guard on the Isle of Skye for training. “And of course it’s about the money.” A sneer turned his mouth. His eyes drifted down, sliding over her formfitting clothes in a hot caress. “So unless you can think of a way to pay me, this discussion is over.”
She gasped, her eyes widening in shock. She drew her hand back to give him the slap he surely deserved. Before it fell across his face, he caught her wrist and twisted it down around her back, pinning her against him. Bodies locked, he stared down into her furious face—the face that had haunted him for two bloody years—and felt the battle seep out of him as he gave in to the demon of desire roaring inside him.
He’d been a fool to think he could control this.
His mouth fell on hers. Hot and hungry. Starved from two years of deprivation. Two years of wanting a woman who would never be his.
Eleven
Lachlan groaned at the contact. She tasted so good. Warm and sweet, with a faint hint of the wine he’d left for her.
She gasped, whether in shock or protest he didn’t know. For one agonizing heartbeat she went stiff in his arms, and he thought she would push him away. But then he felt her soften, felt the shudder of desire tremble through her, and she melted into his embrace.
A rush of heat poured through him as his body flooded with desires long kept in check. He hardened. Throbbed. Blood pounded through every vein in his body.
He dug his fingers through the soft dampness of her hair, cupping the back of her head in his palm to bring her mouth even closer, bending her into him as he drank in every inch of her. Her soft scent floated around him in a haze of intoxicating fragrance. He couldn’t seem to get enough. He wanted with a desperation he’d never known before.
When she opened her mouth, he nearly lost his mind. Blood roared in his head. Sliding in his tongue, he kissed her deeper. Claiming every inch of that sweet mouth and growling with pleasure when the first tentative strokes of her tongue met his. The innocence of her response nearly undid him.
This felt too good. He’d dreamed of this for too long.
He couldn’t seem to calm the wicked sensations raging inside him. He wanted her too badly; his body had been too long denied.
His mouth moved over her jaw, down her neck, tasting every inch of velvety-soft skin. Christ, she was sweet. Ambrosia to a man who’d been starving for too long.
He cupped her bottom, bringing her more fully against the throbbing column of his manhood. He needed her closer, needed to feel her against him, needed the intimate pressure, the delicious friction of bodies grinding together. He rocked against her, nearly coming out of his skin when she moved against him.
She was pressing against him so intently, her sweet feminine mound rubbing against his cock, he didn’t know how much longer he could take it. It felt so good. A tantalizing hint of what it would be like to be inside her. Thrusting in and out. Circling. Pounding. Finding that perfect rhythm. He could tell from the way she moved that they would be incredible together. That it would be like nothing else he’d ever experienced.
He sank against her, his cock wedged at her cleft. Perfect. Right there. He gave a little thrust.Jesus!Sweat beaded on his forehead from the exertion of restraint. He felt as if he were going to explode. Heat pulled in his groin, gathered at the base of his spine, tightening his buttocks.
He wanted to come. Wanted to scream out her name as he plunged deep inside her and possess every inch of her, claiming her in the most intimate of ways.
He was going faster now, any pretense at control long gone. His body was on fire. He heard the quickening of her breath and knew she felt it, too. The urgency, the need, that had descended over them both. There was nothing to come between them. No husband to stop her. She was free. She was his.
His lips trailed over the tender, sensitive skin of her throat. He nuzzled her with his nose, licked her with his tongue, devoured her with his mouth.
His hands slid up her tiny waist to cup her breasts. A bolt of pure lust shot through him, as the soft mounds of flesh spilled over his palms. He felt her nipples pressing against him like two hard pebbles. He couldn’t stop himself. They were too incredible. Too lush. Too ripe to the touch. He needed to squeeze, to caress, to lift the perfect round globes of flesh in his hands and rub the taut bead of her nipples between his thumbs.
The soft sigh of pleasure that slipped from between her parted lips drove him wild. He had to taste her. To put his mouth on bare skin. Nothing could have denied him from putting his lips around those firm, succulent nipples and sucking. From circling them with his tongue and nibbling them with his teeth.
