Chapter 15 #3
Thunder cracked overhead. The roaring wind whipped against them, and needle-like drops of rain stung the side of her face.
His demanding mouth was hot and divine, more erotic than cruel now. She was vaguely aware that he picked her up and carried her while devouring her mouth. The wind and thunder faded into the background, and compete darkness surrounded them. The dank scent told her they were in a cave.
When he pulled back, she wished she could see him, but the only light came from brief flashes of lightning near the entrance. 'Twas for the best. She couldn't see the loathing and accusation in his eyes.
When he set her on her feet, she did not remove her arm from around his neck. Instead, she pressed against him and kissed his throat.
With his hand, he lifted her chin. "Damn you, lass," he growled against her lips. With a passion that edged into aggression, he consumed her mouth again, made love to it. He was perfection. Nothing had ever been so delectable as his kiss, and she gave over to him. She gave him complete control.
She was the drought-parched ground, and he was the rainstorm. A year and a half. Saints! How had she lived without him for so long? How had her longing not hollowed out her soul?
Lifting her, he held her against the rough, craggy wall, and nestled between her thighs. Even through all their clothing, she felt him, hard as the cave wall behind her.
He kissed down the side of her neck to her collarbone and the upper part of her chest. Thrilling tingles showered over her with his warm lips, his tongue, and his teeth scraping over her.
"Brodie," she whispered in reverence, near inaudible over the wind gusting at the entrance. Her hands trembled as she stroked his hair.
With an abrupt action, he set her down and drew back a few inches. "Damnation, lass," he rasped. "You do naught but torture me and drag me through hell!"
"Nay," she gasped. "Nay, Brodie, I love you."
"You have a ruthless way of showing it!" He muttered vile Gaelic curses. "Stop lying to me, faithless wench. Stop manipulating!"
She fisted her hands in his shirt. "Listen to me, Brodie! I love you with all my heart!"
"You never loved me," he snarled.
"I have loved you since the night we met," she sobbed. "And I have never stopped." Her throat constricted, near suffocating her, and he was the only air.
Surprising her, he yanked up her skirts and ran his hand up her bare inner thigh. Her breath caught, and she was glad she had not worn her trews this night. When he dipped his fingers between her legs to find her drenched with arousal, she gasped and pulled him closer.
"Brodie!" Her legs widened, inviting him. "Aye."
He stroked her with tempting circular motions, then lifted her leg beside his hip. He slid a finger into her, giving her a surge of pleasure. She gasped, wrapping her arms tight around his neck to hold on. The leg she stood on was growing weaker.
"Is this what you want?" he demanded through clenched teeth.
"Aye. Take me now!"
He adjusted their clothing and picked her up. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he surged into her. His large shaft was as hard as stone. She cried out at the blissful union as he plunged deep.
"So damned wet," he growled against her mouth before he gave her a profound kiss.
Scorching tingles coursed over her body. She'd never dreamed she would be privileged and fortunate enough to experience this paradise with him again. If she died tomorrow, her life's wishes were fulfilled. She was thankful he couldn't see the tears streaming from her eyes.
He pounded into her as if driven by his rage.
'Twas so unlike their first time—the difference between a warm spring day and the storm raging outside.
Still, she might perish and cease all existence if he didn't continue.
Her spirit was a cold, burned out lantern, and he was a fiery flame setting her alight, bringing her back to life.
All the emotions she'd buried these many long months bubbled to the surface.
She wanted no one but Brodie, ever. Even if she never married. Even if she lived to be a hundred, or if her life ended tomorrow.
"I want you, Brodie," she gasped. "I want you so much. I love you!"
He held her in a tight embrace, almost crushing her.
Muttering curses, he thrust into her again and again, sending her toward paradise with each stroke.
Never had she experienced anything so stunning, so all-consuming.
He eclipsed everything else in her life.
Even the other times with him fell short of this erotic upheaval of indulgence.
The keen edge of pleasure spiraled upward and exploded through her like a lightning bolt.
The bliss shattered her for a long, drawn out, breathless moment.
Her body tried to grip him and hold him deep. Hold on to him forever.
Though her body was tender, he did not slow. He had no mercy, and she didn't care. Didn't want mercy. She wanted him to pour out all his fury upon her, within her. She could take it, for she would endure anything for him.