Page 43 of The Highlander’s Gypsy Temptation

Bran lifted her gently off her feet, carrying her as if she were weightless to the feather bed in the middle of the room. He set her down delicately, then lay on top of her, careful not to put all of his weight on her.

He moved his hand slowly across her body, stopping on one of her breasts. His hand felt cold to the touch, and the soft peak perked up as he rubbed his finger gently against it. A low moan escaped from her mouth, and she bit Bran’s lip as shivers ravaged her from head to toe.

Bran moved gently along her body, kissing her neck, and then gliding slowly downwards. He kissed in between her breasts, his full beard itchy against her skin. He took one of her breasts in his mouth and the feeling sent a jolt of electricity through Idalia. As his warm wet mouth fastened on her, Idalia shuddered breathlessly and grabbed a lock of his hair.

Bran sucked her hungrily as he traced a hand down her inner thighs. He ran his fingers through the soft fur beneath her belly and groaned in pleasure. The sound reverberated through Idalia, lighting her senses afire. Bran moved Idalia’s leg wide, then lowered his hand till it rested on the sensitive rosebud at the head of her sex.

She gasped and squirmed under his grip, but Bran moved slowly, quietly. Barely making a sound. She felt wet between her legs, and his mouth on her breasts was sucking the life out of her. He moved his hand from her nub and rubbed it gently against the cloying wetness gathering in the soft folds beneath, parting the lips as he did so.

“Sweet heavens,” Idalia said shakily, squeezing her eyes shut. Bran slid two fingers gently into her and began thrusting slowly and methodically. The ball of his palm pressed against her nub, and the motion of his hand sent Idalia senseless with pleasure.

Just as she curled her toes and grabbed the sheets, Bran slid his fingers out from her and chuckled quietly. “Nae so fast, Idalia.” He brought his fingers up to his mouth and tasted her.

The sight heated Idalia up like a forge and she reached out for him. He held her hand back and shook his head. “Nay.” He slid down her body until she felt his breath on her most sacred place. Idalia looked down at him between her legs and bit her lip.

Her stomach heaved up and down in silent anticipation, and Bran had a look that said he was enjoying the sight. Without warning, his tongue slowly lapped at her, searching the hot folds of flesh, then rested the tip on her sensitive nub. Idalia shuddered again, and the moan that tore out of her was loud enough to wake up the castle.

She covered her face with a pillow and moaned into it as the feel of Bran’s tongue against her wetness drove her to the brink of madness. She wrapped her legs around his shoulders, and he kept going, savoring her with what seemed like an insatiable hunger.

She felt her release coming and hoped he would let her finish. She pressed the pillow tightly against her face, her scream muted as she found her release against his tongue and fingers. Her mind felt blank, and her head felt light. She had no coherent thoughts and did not notice when Bran lay down beside her, watching her with a satisfied look.

Idalia leaned over and kissed him softly, then pushed him on his back. She still felt woozy from his ministrations, but she needed to taste him. She made to undo his trews, but Bran stayed her hand. “Nay.”

Idalia shrugged his hand away and undid the clasp. “Yes. I want to feel you. I want this moment to serve in my memory as enough for a thousand lifetimes.” She took off his trousers and boots and exclaimed softly as she regarded his large shaft.

Bran groaned softly as he watched Idalia, and she could feel the anticipation bubbling out of him. She ran her hand slowly along his length, marveling at the veiny thickness of it. It terrified her to imagine it inside her, but it filled her with desire at the same time.

Bran then rolled gently on top of her. Idalia smiled and looked down at his erect manhood hanging inches away from her burning core. She closed her eyes and waited with eager anticipation. She felt the shaft part her and stretch her, while bright stars filled her vision. She felt it when Bran slid slowly out to the tip and felt the whole length as it found its way slowly into her again.

Bran moved slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, and every time he pulled out, Idalia wanted him back inside again. “Go faster,” she pleaded, but Bran ignored all her requests.

He leaned down over her, thrusting from his hips in slow, circular motions that brought tears to her eyes. He kissed her lips softly, and she took him inside her, spreading her legs to allow him to bury his whole length within her. Difficult as it was for her, she opened her eyes and saw Bran watching her, his slow thrusts singing a sweet song about a love they would never have chance to experience.

She took a mental image of Bran as he kissed the back of her hand, then her neck, and her breasts. His hands moved everywhere, and Idalia’s roamed as well, clawing into his back and digging her nails into his flesh. His grunts sounded like a sweet melody to her.

Their bodies melded into one, entwined in a symphony of desire. And in the depths of the night, they found solace, if ever there was any to be had, amid Idalia’s soaked, tangled sheets.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Yes, Bran… yes…”

Nothing had ever felt more right to Bran in his entire life. Nothing. Idalia was a cool, deep lake, and Bran drank of her endlessly, tirelessly. The more he drank, the more he wanted to drink, his thirst never slackened.

As she squirmed underneath his vice-like grip, and he slipped in and out of her as slowly as he liked, her sounds bathed him and renewed him, pumping him with desire to keep going. He watched her every reaction, cataloged every expression, and stored every piece of information her body shared with him.

He had to be the most stupid man in the world. Only an incredibly stupid person would have convinced himself that he did not want this! Bran didn’t bother asking himself what he had been thinking, because he was quite sure he must have not been thinking when he chose to pass her on to his brother.

Idalia gave herself completely to him and held nothing back. Between them, there were no secrets. Tangled between her legs, all his lies crumbled to the touch like caked dirt. In the throes of his passion and lust, he realized there was no chance in the world that he would let Idalia marry anyone besides him.

He had been a naive fool to think he would have been able to live with himself had Idalia and Andrew gone through with the wedding. A naive fool, indeed. He leaned in and kissed her delicate neck, nibbling at her neckline and enjoying the gasps escaping her lips. His back burned in a million different places as sweat dripped into the scratches Idalia had left him as a thank you gift.

When they were done, he rolled off Idalia, and collapsed in a heap beside her. He took a moment to catch his breath, enjoying the silence of the night. Bran wondered if anyone had heard him and Idalia and thought about what the consequences of that discovery would be. He suppressed the urge to laugh out loud as he realized he did not care in that moment if they were found out.

A cool wind blew in from the open window, and he felt the sweet chill of the autumn air. The breeze smelled of rain, and all he could think about was a cold, sweet bath in an icy river.

He turned to Idalia and scooped her into his arms, placing her on his chest. Really, what was I thinking? The more he thought about it, the less reasonable he sounded to himself. He parted her hair with his fingers and memorized what she looked like, naked as day and splayed over his chest. That image was going to be in his head till the end of time, stored in a safe place like valuable jewels.

He was never going to let her go. He was not that man he pretended to be, the one who could let her go for the greater good. He felt as if he saw the world with stark clarity at that moment.