Page 25 of Highlander’s Vengeful Seduction

Vanora all but ripped Donal’s hose off him, discarding it to the side with the rest of their clothes, and then she stepped back so that she could look at him like she never could before. He was chiseled from marble and ivory, a dusting of red, wiry hairs covering his thighs and groin.

Vanora wondered what all those hard, strong muscles would feel like against her, between her legs. Just the mere thought of it made her shiver.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out. Within moments, Donal had laid the blanket before the fire, and he was pulling her down onto its warm, comfortable surface with trembling hands, as though he could hardly believe that he had her splayed out in front of him in all her beauty.

Vanora went down easily, and she allowed Donal to settle over her, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in for a kiss, their tongues moving slowly, luxuriously against one another. Donal began to pepper kisses down her jaw and neck, the cold air that hit Vanora’s skin whenever his mouth moved lower making her shudder.

His lips found Vanora’s breast, and he circled her nipple with his tongue as his hand kneaded and squeezed her breast hungrily. It made Vanora’s toes curl in pleasure, and she cried out as she arched against him, her body begging for more.

Donal, not missing the way that Vanora reacted to all his attentions, pulled back to ask, “Are ye alright? Is this…shall I…continue?”

Vanora didn’t have to ask what Donal meant. Though she had never been with a man before, she had heard stories that had prepared her for this, in a way at least. She knew what she wanted; she had made up her mind.

“Aye,” Vanora said, as she took Donal’s hand and led it between her legs, letting him feel the slickness in her cleft. Donal let out a tiny, breathless moan when he felt it, two fingers finding their way and easily slipping inside her.

Vanora could feel Donal against her thigh, an eager, firm hardness that made her legs fall wider apart, inviting him closer. Still, Donal continued exploring with his fingers, drunk on the sounds that escaped Vanora’s lips.

“Donal,” Vanora urged him. “Please…I want tae feel ye.”

Donal didn’t make Vanora wait any longer. As he entered her, his movements excruciatingly slow, Vanora closed her eyes, her mouth hung open in a silent scream of pleasure. She could feel Donal deep inside of her, an exquisite assault on her senses until she was filled to the brim, Donal parting her sensitive flesh delightfully with every thrust of his hips.

“Mo ghràdh, I willnae last,” Donal panted above her, his rhythm already stuttering. He buried his face in Vanora’s neck, panting against her as he moved, and she could do little other than let him take his pleasure from her, just like she took her own from him.

With every thrust of Donal’s hips, Vanora’s desire only grew, and so did the sensations between her legs and all over her body, where her skin met Donal’s. She felt as though she was on fire. The only thing that mattered was that one point where the two of them were connected, her pulsing flesh thirsting for more.

When Donal moved his hips just right, once, twice, three times, Vanora’s pleasure crashed like a wave over her, pulling her down into a darkness where there was nothing else but the torturous throb of her completion and the shuddering whine that got caught in her throat.

Soon, she felt a warmth inside her as Donal reached his own climax and collapsed against her. The two of them lay in front of the fire, Vanora humming pleasantly as Donal caressed her skin, his fingers roaming the expanse of her body until they found her cleft once more, plunging into its wetness. Vanora pushed back, oversensitive and raw.

“Ye’ll have time to do more of that later,” she said, as she took his hand and pinned it down so he couldn’t tease her anymore.

“Oh, ye better ken that I will,” Donal said, settling next to Vanora so that he wouldn’t crush her while sleeping, and pulling her against his chest. “Tis like a new world.”

The last thing that Vanora remembered was the laugh that she gave Donal before the sweet darkness of sleep surrounded her.

Chapter Thirteen

Donal woke up when the sun began to shine through the windows of the hunting lodge. When he looked down at the sleeping form in his arms, the memories of the previous night rushed back to him. He could hardly believe that he had Vanora right there, holding onto her as if she belonged by his side.

It was like a dream. The sunrays fell on Vanora’s hair, making her dark locks shine under the light, and she smiled in her sleep, more peaceful than Donal had ever seen her. There was something angelic about her, something ethereal that made her look as though she had come from a different world—one that was not as cruel and ugly as the one where Donal lived.

She was like the sun itself, the only light in Donal’s life after everything that had happened. He could not fathom what he would do if anything ever happened to her. He would follow her everywhere, even to the grave, he thought.

Donal was still watching Vanora when she blinked her eyes open, awakened by the sudden flood of sunlight in the hunting lodge. The fire had long since died down, and he could see the goosebumps on her skin, but wherever their bodies touched, they were hot like a midsummer day.

Donal held Vanora closer, trying to warm her up in the soft chill of the room, and she turned around in his arms so that they were facing each other. They both stayed silent for a long time, content to simply gaze into each other’s eyes like they held the secrets to the whole world.

Eventually, though, Donal knew that it was time to break that fragile peace that was between them. They would have to leave soon, as soon as possible, and head out to find his men; otherwise, they risked being chased down by Angus’ own.

“We should leave, mo ghràdh,” Donal said. “The sooner we leave Knapdale, the better.”

Vanora couldn’t deny that. “Aye,” she said, and she was the first to pull away, standing up from the floor to locate her now dry clothes, much to Donal’s dismay.

He would have rather keep her in his arms; he would have rather they stayed there forever, intertwined, unbothered by everything that took place outside of that hunting lodge. They would soon have that life, though, Donal reminded himself. When they would get back to his clan’s grounds, they would be safe. No one would be able to harm Vanora or him, not even Angus and Vika.

Donal followed Vanora, putting on his own clothes before helping her with hers. Just like the previous night, there were too many buttons and too many laces for his liking, a mess of little things that he must fasten and lace. His fingers fumbled as he helped her, and he cursed under his breath, making her laugh.

“Do ye think it’s funny?” he asked, though he couldn’t help but laugh himself. “I havnae seen so many cursed buttons before. I dinnae ken what tae do with them!”