Page 69 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

Taran’s gut twisted. She was right. His desire to be right had put her in danger. His pride had put them both in danger. If anything happened to him, she would again be at Etherton’s mercy.

Something rustled to their right. Caroline cried out. Taran grasped the butt of his pistol as he jerked his gaze in the direction of the noise. A tree branch moved as shadow in the murk and wind whistled passed. He released the pistol, hand shaking. Caroline tried to pull away.

“It is just the wind,” he assured her.

“I cannot lose you,” she choked.

Taran crushed her to him. “Caroline.”

Reason warred with need. He needed to get her home, safe in their bed where her mind could settle into the understanding he would never again let harm come to her. But he also needed her. Now.

“I cannot lose you,” she had said. She wanted him. Was it possible she loved him?

Taran’s heart thundered as he cradled her head and claimed her lips. Caroline whimpered, and he plunged his tongue into her mouth. His kiss turned frantic, as desperate as her emotions. By God, he had to show her he could protect her…had to show her he couldn’t live without her.

“Kiss me,” he whispered against her lips.

Lifting on tiptoes, she tightened her fingers on his neck. She leaned into him, breasts crushing into his chest, sending a lightning bolt to his groin. His cock thickened as he rocked into her. What was he doing? How could he take her now…when she was confused and afraid?

Because she was confused and afraid. After he made love to her, he’d make sense of what had happened. Right now, she needed him.

He kissed her harder and Caroline’s mouth opened, demanding more. He sank into her sweet taste. His cock, now hard and throbbing, bordered on painful. He needed to drown in her heat, needed to know she was all right, that she was his. Taran stiffened against the fierce need surging through him and broke from the kiss.

“Caroline, I need you.”

“Yes.” The word spoken in a breathless voice sent a jolt of desire to his groin. She reached between them and covered his cock with a warm palm.

Desire clouded his brain. He ached to take her…to make love to her. Her fingers closed around his erection. She trembled. Or was the tremble rolling through him? He knotted his fingers in her hair and tipped her head back as he devoured her mouth. He drove his tongue inside and searched out hers, connecting, tasting, driving out all thoughts but the woman in his arms. His woman. Holding her tight, he dropped to his knees and pushed her onto the moss covered ground.

“Hurry,” she urged.

Caroline drew up her knees, feet flat on the ground, and spread her thighs. She dragged her skirt above her waist. He pulled the pistol from his waist and set it on the ground beside them, then cupped her mound. Moist heat from her pussy warmed his palm. Cream dampened his finger. Gliding along the plump folds, he slipped a finger into her tightened passage.

“More,” she begged.

Caroline tugged down her bodice and pulled his head to a nipple. He latched onto the marbled point. Her hips lifted and Taran inserted a second finger, sawing in and out, stretching her. She gripped his wrist and bucked against his hand. Taran drew hard on the nipple as he fucked her with his fingers.

She cried out, as desperate as he was for a physical connection between them. She didn’t want finesse and comfort. Rather a hard fuck, and he was just as primed. He ripped open the ties of his breeches, grasped his pulsing rod and settled between her thighs. Her body opened for him and he shafted his cock deep in one fluid plunge.

Caroline wrapped her legs around his hips and rose to meet his thrust. She whimpered and clung to his shoulders. “I am sorry, Taran.”

“Shhh.” He braced his upper body on outstretched arms and poured his emotions into his movements. “You are safe now.”

Her back bowed off the ground as he drilled into her again. “And I am yours.”

Taran growled and fucked her the way she needed—to feel alive and safe in his arms. Slow, measured glides spiraled into hard intense thrusts. Momentum built. Faster, all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the top of her core and she clutched at his back.

Hot inner walls gloved tight to his shaft.

“Oh.” Her channel quivered with her release. “Taran,” she gasped on a hard breath. Her body shattered beneath him. She shivered and exquisite pressure milked his cock.

With a guttural groan, Taran slammed into his orgasm. Hot seed erupted from his rod and filled his wife.

Chapter Twenty-One

Taran lay beside Caroline, head resting against the soft swell of her breast, and drank in her scent. His heart pounded and his body, replete in passion, molded to hers.

“You are mine,” he whispered against her flesh.