Not for that life-changing moment.
But still, I wanted more.
I cupped his cheeks, bending down to press a kiss to his lips, and smiled when I tasted my own desire on them.
“Rowena, I’m leaving in two days for the mainland. I need to face Callor.”
My breath caught, and it had naught to do with the way the wind now whipped around me.
“To break your oath of loyalty? Because of what I said?”
He gently cupped my hands against his cheeks.
“Ye were right, love. Ye are the perfect chief’s Mate. ‘Tis an orcish tradition for a chief to claim his Mate in front of his people, so they ken she will breed the next chief, but the Islay Battleborn are no’ like that, since my father didnae think of himself as chief.”
I was too busy thinking of his mission—thinking he could very welldiebecause of what I’d said to him, and wishing I’d kept my mouth shut—to really understand what he was telling me.
“I…do not understand,” I managed, with a shake of my head.
Because in that moment, hearing him say that he was going to make an enemy of a powerful laird, and could very well die, I realized Ididlove him.
My Mate.
Still, he smiled beneath my palms.
“I want ye, Rowena. Afore I leave, I want to claim ye. Here and now. If ye say nay, that ye’re no’ ready, then I’ll leave without this, but?—”
I silenced him with a kiss, bending at my waist to claimhim.
“Aye,” I whispered against his mouth. “Please. I have wanted you for days, Vrogul. Make me yours.”
His eyes flared green with victory, and in one movement, he’d stood and scooped me up, marching me toward a hollow in the boulders as he kissed me, his teeth tugging atmy lower lip, whispering harsh words of praise and endearments.
When he knelt and laid me down, I realized we were protected from the wind but still had a hell of a view of the water. There were the remains of a campfire, a stack of dried peat, and a bed of dried grasses.
Vrogul removed his kilt, spreading it over the grasses, kicked off his boots, then reached for me. I went willingly, reaching for his ridged cock, thrilled to be seeing it for the first time. I stroked it—strokedhim—marveling at the girth and length. Just knowing what was to come sent another wave of moist desire to my core.
He lay back on the kilt, his eyes glowing as he pulled me down atop him. I straddled his hips, my knees on either side of his body, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. His hands immediately began to roam, sliding up my thighs, over my hips, along my waist. Each touch left trails of sensation in its wake, sparks that made my breath catch.
His palms were rough, callused from years of wielding weapons, and the contrast against my softer skin made everything more intense. He cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peaked, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
I gasped, arching into his touch.
“So responsive,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble. “Every touch makes ye shiver, wildcat. I love watching ye react to me.”
His hands continued their exploration, sliding down my sides, tracing the curve of my waist, then back up to my shoulders. He pulled me down, bringing my face close tohis, and I was the one to finish the movement, to meet his lips. His tongue slid against mine as one hand tangled in my long braid, tugging gently to tilt my head back.
When I broke the kiss with a gasp, his mouth moved to my throat. He dragged his tongue along the column of my neck, his tusks scraping lightly against the sensitive skin. I shuddered, my hands bracing on his broad chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms.
Knowinghim.
“Mine,” he growled against my skin. “Ye’re mine, Rowena, and I’m yers. My Mate, my wildcat.”
His mouth found that spot just beneath my ear—the one that made my toes curl—and he nibbled, his tusks grazing the tender flesh. I moaned, my hips rocking forward instinctively, seeking friction. The movement pressed my wet cunny against his stomach and he groaned in response.
“That’s it, love. Show me how much ye want this. How much ye want me. Is it as much as I need ye?”
One of his hands slid down between my legs, his fingers stroking through my already-swollen folds. I was soaked, my arousal coating his fingers as he explored me. He circled my clitoris with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make me gasp.
