Page 43 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

He continued to press inside her, deeper, until they both felt his shaft press against her maidenhead. Ewan stilled. “Grace…”

“Please…”

Ewan bent his head to kiss her, then lowered his head further and suckled on her breast. Grace gasped at the sudden bolt of sensation and arched against his mouth. She felt a momentary stab of pain, but then it was washed away in her heightening pleasure.

Ewan slid deeper, filling her completely, until his hips were nestled against her, his shaft buried in her channel to the hilt. For a moment, they lay together, both of them panting. Then Ewan shifted backward, rocked forward, and began to thrust, slow and steady.

Every thrust rocked her against the bed, and each withdrawal left her aching for more. Pleasure and heat spiraled higher, every movement bringing a new wave of pleasure. Grace rocked against him, hips arching with every movement.

Pleasure and heat. Her world dissolved into the ever-growing spiral of warmth and pleasure and need. She was burning, drowning in pleasure.

Ewan kissed her again, and his hand reached down to caress her sex and tease her pleasure center once more. Grace cried out as her entire body seemed to explode in a wave of sensation and white light engulfed her vision. The wave of pleasure, more intense than anything she’d ever imagined, caught her up and swept her away.

Ewan stroked deep into her again, then again, and Grace felt another wave of pleasure catch her as Ewan pulled out of her quickly and stiffened in a climax of his own, his seed pumping onto her body.

Grace felt her last coherent thoughts whirl up and vanish in the afterglow of pleasure such as she had never known.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ewan woke warm, a little sore and more relaxed than he’d been for some time. He also woke with Grace Lancaster at his side, curled up against him and breathing softly. Ewan smiled, and shifted his head to look at her.

Their lovemaking the night before had been amazing. Grace had hidden depths of passion that he’d never expected for in a new lover, one so inexperienced as her. Being with Grace had been one of the best experiences he could recall.

She stirred in his arms, then blinked. Her eyes met his, sleepy for a moment, then widening as the memory of their night’s activities returned to her as well. Ewan chuckled as her cheeks flushed a brilliant crimson. “Good morn.”

“Good morn.” Grace sat up, shyly tucking the sheet around herself. She blinked, frowning slightly.

“’Tis normal tae feel sore, but it will pass.”

Grace nodded and wrapped the blankets around her shoulders. “That was…” She trailed off, her blush deepening

“Aye.” Ewan sat up, then stood and stretched. Grace made an undignified sound, but slid into her underdress after he handed it to her. Ewan turned and wrapped his discarded kilt around his hips. He would happily have taken Grace to bed again, but he wasn’t sure she was ready for that, and did not want to hurt her.

Grace stood and tugged the ties on the bodice closed. Her gaze fell on a sheaf of paper on his bedroom desk, and a small smile tugged the corner of her mouth. Ewan blinked. “Somethin’ amuses ye?”

“I suppose it does. It is only that I saw the paper, and I was reminded of the game Niamh and I played before she journeyed here. Our ‘list of sins’.” She flashed him a warm, bright smile. “It occurred to me that, of all the events I have ever placed upon my list, loving you might well be the largest, most impressive moment I have ever given that distinction to.” She laughed, lightly. “My uncle would most certainly be furious.”

The words were teasing, good-humored, but Ewan felt them as if they’d been blows to the gut.

The list. Her tricks to escape unwanted marriage. Was he just another event, another item on the list to help her avoid being shackled to some undesired English laird? The thought stung like the lash of a whip. “I see.”

Grace heard the change of his voice. She turned to face him, her smile vanishing into a small frown of puzzlement. “Ewan, is something wrong?”

When he had kissed her, he had felt something for her, and he had continued to feel it when they had been together the previous night. It hurt him that she had just used him for her convenience, that she could not see him as a man to court.

But he couldn’t say that to her. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing how her words had stung both his pride and his heart. Ewan forced himself to shake his head. “Nay. ‘Tis just… I’m a little sore, more than I expected tae be this morn.”

“Oh. I can look at your wounds, make sure we caused no further…”

“Nay.” He heard the snap in his voice, saw the startled confusion and the beginning of hurt in her eyes, and shook his head. “I’ll have Megan look at it. Later.” He bent to get his discarded shirt, heedless of how the motion pulled at his healing injuries, and tugged it on. “Ye should go tae yer rooms and freshen up afore ye go down tae break yer fast.”

Grace blinked, clearly unnerved by his sudden coldness. Ewan felt a tingle of satisfaction, knowing that she might feel some of the same ache that seemed to have hollowed out his chest and replaced his heart with a frozen rock. “Ewan… is something…”

“Ye need tae go freshen up. An’ likely as nae, ye’ll want tae pack whatever ye wish tae tak’ tae MacDuff Castle. We’ll be goin’ taemorrow, if the healer allows.” He gestured. “We wouldnae wish tae keep yer friend waiting any longer than we must.”

“Ewan…”

“Go on. Otherwise someone is likely tae find ye in me rooms. An’ supposed betrothed or nae, we wouldnae wish fer anyone tae start any rumors, that I was improper with ye.” With a grunt, Ewan bent to prod the hearth fire from the night before back to life. It was as good an excuse as any not to look at Grace, and he was afraid that if he looked at her, all his emotions might come tumbling out of him as rage.