Chapter Seventeen #3
His words shot through her, igniting her body with warmth despite the frigid pool. Her heart quickened. She licked her lips as she took in his large frame, his penetrating gaze. She promised herself, in that moment, that one day she would again know the feel of his hands on her body.
But what if she didn’t have one day more?
Alec’s prophesy trumpeted in her mind. What if she was going to die?
Her heart quaked, but not with fear. She was not afraid to die for the cause.
Her heart trembled for that which she feared most—regret.
What if she were to die without ever lying in Rory’s arms?
She sucked in a sharp breath and dove beneath the surface.
Rory crouched down beside the water’s edge and waited for her to appear again. She emerged directly in front of him, the surface of the pool lapping her waist. Water sluiced off her firm, proud breasts. His mouth watered at the sight of her taut peaks.
As if of their own accord, her arms flew around his neck. “I will have ye now, Rory.”
He pulled away to look into her eyes, which gleamed with near feverish intensity. “But...what about your duty?” he said.
“Nay! I will not think of duty right now. My whole life I have thought of little else.” She cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips a breath away from her own. “What if this is all we have? This moment. This night. I want yer hands on my body.”
His heart pounded. Hunger gripped him like nothing he had ever felt before.
He brushed her lips with a kiss—the barest whisper of a caress.
Then he plunged his hands into the water and cradled her up through the air, icy water soaking his clothes.
“I’m going to make yer body quake,” he promised and carried her toward the trees.
High in the treetop, a canopy of leaves hid her naked body, even from the stars above.
Only Rory could feast upon her luscious curves.
Her body was both soft and strong. He ran his hand down the gentle slope of her waist, over her hip and down her long sleek leg.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly pulling him closer, her lids half-closed, heavy with desire.
He ran the backs of his fingers gently down her cheek.
Then he crushed his lips to hers. She groaned, clinging to him, her tongue stroking his.
“Take this off,” she cried out, tearing at his tunic.
He whisked the fabric over his head and winced as her nails dug into his back.
He grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head with one hand while he swept his other hand over her breast. With his palm he gently caressed her nipple.
Then he lowered his mouth, His hot breath teasing her hard peak.
He stroked it with his tongue, forcing a gasp from her lips.
Then he seized it gently between his teeth, and she cried out.
He drew the point deeper into his mouth and suckled her while she writhed beneath him, soft moans escaping her lips.
She twisted to release her hands from his steel grip.
Still, he held her, trapping her while he slowly caressed her hip and smoothed over the dip of her stomach.
Then his fingers brushed the soft curls, and he cupped her mound.
“Let me go,” she cried. “I want to touch ye. I want to feel yer body.”
“In a minute, love,” he said softly. Then he held her gaze while he gently pushed her thighs apart. He trailed his fingers slowly from her knee, up the inside of her thigh, his touch soft as a whisper. He paused just as he reached the very heat of her. She bucked her hips, her eyes pleading.
“Please, Rory,” she cried.
He watched the agony of desire twist her features as his touch barely grazed her flesh.
Again, her hips bucked against his hand, her body demanding more.
He leaned over and seized her lips the instant he deepened his touch.
Her body, hot and wet, contracted around him, and he stroked her, bringing her higher and higher.
Then her eyes flew open. “Rory, I want ye to make me yers,” she cried.
He groaned, releasing her hands. She came onto her knees and pulled on the waist of his hose, freeing his hard length.
He pushed her back onto the platform and positioned himself between her legs.
Then slowly, so slowly, he entered her. Her tight sheath constricted around him.
She was so tight. He held his breath as he stretched her wider until he filled her.
She wound her arms firmly around him, her face buried against his neck, and slowly he started to thrust. Her hips met his, her body slick with sweat.
She gripped him. He thrust harder, then faster.
Her breath filled his ears. Her pounding heart beat against his chest. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and pulled down on him, meeting his hard thrusts with furious demand.
She seized, as a cry tore from her lips, then she shuddered and quaked in his arms. He drove deeper, her rapture tearing through him, bringing his own body toward exquisite pain, which suddenly released as wave after wave of pleasure shot through him.