Page 56 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

He slid himself between her legs, his shaft against her entrance, and Grace welcomed him. He slid himself into her, careful and slow, knowing this was only her second time making love, and felt her hot, slick, velvety walls clench around his manhood like a sheath of flame and silk. Ewan groaned, barely able to keep himself under control while Grace writhed around him, arched upward to take him more deeply.

Inch by inch, he pressed inside her, until he was fully sheathed, his bollocks against the soft, rounded globes of her buttocks. The feel of her against him, around him, was almost more than he could bear. Ewan felt as if he were burning, inside and out. Grace’s heat scorching him from around his member, while his own desire burned him from within.

He breathed, rocked back, then forward, setting up a steady rhythm. Grace moved with him, so in tune with his movements that it felt as if they’d always been lovers. Always been together. It was bliss, and it was perfect, in a way he’d never known love-making could be, and Ewan cherished each thrust.

Every shift sent sparks dancing through him, waves of heat and pleasure that made his bollocks tighten and his whole body strain for his release. Ewan lost himself to the sensations, and to the sight of Grace, underneath him, around him, watching him with her brilliant sapphire eyes, her whole face alight with passion and desire.

Desire for him. The desire he’d thought he’d only imagined, a few days before. It was real, and she was there, with him. Nothing had ever been better.

Heat and pleasure. Pleasure bordering on pain, carrying him higher. He was going to burn up if he didn’t find his release. He was going to die of pleasure. Everything felt almost unbearably hot, unbearably tight. He needed…

He bent to kiss Grace again, kissed her like a man dying of thirst who’d found a spring in the desert. Grace kissed him back, just as urgently. Rising with him, burning with him.

Ewan moved one hand, reached up to tweak a nipple. Grace shuddered, arching against him with a cry as she convulsed with her release. Her body clenched around his, muscles tight around his shaft as she shuddered.

Ewan’s vision exploded with light and heat as her release drew his own from him with the force of a firestorm sweeping over the moors. He stiffened, his body buried to the hilt within Grace as his seed pumped deep into her welcoming channel, as her velvet sheath milked every drop of his release from his shaft.

They shuddered together as one, Ewan gasping as a second wave swept over Grace and over him as well. His mind was filled with stars, his muscles weak as water as he rode through the second climax. He barely had the strength to slide himself free and to one side, to cradle Grace in his arms, before the warm glow of love-making caught him up, and carried him gently into oblivion.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Grace woke warm, cradled in familiar arms and wrapped in a scent she’d become well acquainted with over the past moon. Woodsmoke and leather, with a hint of steel and spice and mead. Ewan. Her face went hot as she remembered what had passed between them the night before.

It was tempting to say that she’d no idea what had possessed her to act so temperamental, but in truth, she knew all too well what had upset her. She’d been considering Sorcha’s words, and their meaning. Then, to hear Ewan talking of courting another woman…

It was folly. She knew that. She would have to return to England eventually. And Ewan… his people would want him to marry a proper Scottish lass. Marrying an English girl would bring him nothing but trouble, and they both knew it well.

Even so, even knowing the truth, she could not regret what they’d shared. And she had no desire to change anything, save perhaps the days she and Ewan had spent in anger and misunderstanding.

Behind her, Ewan stirred. Then he made a sound, like a grunt or a groan, and leaned up to kiss her cheek. “A man could get used tae wakin’ up like this.”

“I wish it were possible.” She did regret the truth. “I shall eventually have to return to my uncle. But until then…” She smiled. “I suppose I would enjoy waking up this way as well. Unless…” She turned over to face him. “If your brother is to be seeking a betrothed for you, will you be setting aside the ruse of courting me?”

Ewan stilled, and his voice was quiet when he answered. “Dae ye wish me tae set it aside?”

Grace considered the matter. “I am not certain. I do not feel that I am adequately informed on the matter in any respect, save how it grants me a measure of safety. Perhaps you might explain to me why it is important to you, that you maintain the appearance of having a betrothed, when it is clear you are in no hurry to marry of your own accord.”

Ewan shifted, then sat up with a grunt. “If we’re tae be havin’ a serious discussion o’ clan matters, ‘tis best nae tae be doin’ so in bed. Otherwise, I’ll be fair distracted.”

Grace laughed, but joined him as he dressed, sliding into her under-dress and a robe while Ewan pulled on his kilt and shirt. Once they were both appropriately attired, Grace joined Ewan in the front room. He poked the embers into a fire once again, and the two of them settled into the chairs close to the blaze. Ewan spoke first. “We’ve talked afore about Gael MacTavish.”

“Yes.” Grace nodded. “You told me that he is a rival for the lordship which you currently hold as overseer for your brother. And…” She paused, making sure she recalled the information properly. “... he has less experience, and was not present for two seasons after the previous lord died. But he is being considered an acceptable candidate because he has a wife and child.”

“Aye. That’s about the size o’ it. The previous laird died without issue nor heir, which is why the Council is considerin’ him fer the lairdship.” Ewan sighed. “Gael MacTavish has the blood, an’ already has someone tae continue the line if he falls.”

“Surely there are other concerns.”

“Aye. Honor, and ability tae maintain peace with neighborin’ clans. Too much feudin’ causes trouble that the Highlands cannae afford. But there’s nay sign that he’s likely tae stir up trouble. Especially since he’s going through the Council tae claim the lairdship, rather than tryin’ tae tak’ it by force.” Ewan grimaced.

“Surely he knows he would not win such an encounter.”

“There’s some that would try it. But there’s nay sign that he intends tae dae so, or that he might resort tae underhanded means. As far as Alistair or I can hear, he’s nae such a poor candidate.”

Grace nodded, considering the words in her mind. Considering Ewan’s position and her own, and even Gael’s - at least so far as she knew.

“You will forgive me if I ask a question that seems impertinent?”

Ewan cracked a grim smile. “I dinnae mind.”