Adanel reached up and ran a light finger over his lips. Her head hurt, dirt was in her hair, and her uncle Faden would soon be expecting her return, and yet she could only think of one thing. “Kiss me.”
Her request was so soft Dugan almost wondered if he had heard her correctly. But the way she was touching him and the look in her eyes were only repeating the request. And more than anything he wanted to cave to both their desires and do just that. A half hour ago he had been fantasizing about what it would be like to feel her lips move against his and to have her body underneath him. And the reality far surpassed his fantasy.
No woman had ever been more desirable, more sensual to the touch, than this delectable redhead. She had been passionate and feisty in the water, and Dugan knew she would bring those qualities to her bed. And if she had been under him for any other reason than the current one, she would never have had to ask. He would have long since been exploring her mouth and her body. But despite what so many thought, he was a man of principle when it came to women and he did not take advantage of them, even if every molecule in his body commanded him to do so.
“You just hit your head,” Dugan said more to himself than to her, and began to rise. Having stayed next to her after she awoke had been a folly. His whole body was painfully tight with desire and he had to immediately separate from her before he no longer possessed the will to resist. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
He was about to leave her side, and when he did he would never return. Something inside Adanel refused to let that happen. She reached up behind his neck to stop his retreat and framed his cheek with her other hand. “I know exactly what I am asking. I’m asking you to kiss me.”
Dugan held himself immobile, but his heart was pounding loudly, making it clear that her desire was not one-sided. “I won’t be able to stop with just a kiss.”
“I’m counting on that.” And then refusing to wait any longer, Adanel pulled him down and the moment his lips fastened to hers she knew she would have no regrets.
Her desire snapped Dugan’s control, and when she opened her mouth to him, all he could think about was her taste. She was sweet, ripe, and so incredibly fresh. Even the most exotic fruit had never tasted so exquisitely good. He needed more and instinctively increased his hot assault, dragging her slender form against him.
Adanel was swept up into a world of pure feeling. Her body melted into his, and when she felt the evidence of his desire pressing against her stomach, primal need scorched through her, igniting sensations for which she had no name.
Dugan wanted to take it slow and enjoy every touch, every taste, every reaction he created in her, but he had been celibate for too long. His aggressive body demanded more, but instead of frightening his spirited aithinne, she was responding in kind.
His lips moved to the soft, vulnerable line of her throat and pressed warm kisses to the pulse beating frantically beneath her satin skin. He could not remember a time a woman wanted him so passionately, so unreservedly. His body shivered as new waves of desire shot through him, and Dugan knew she felt them when her fingers curled deeper into the flesh of his neck.
Adanel moaned as his teeth grazed down her neck while rough but gentle fingers brushed across her breast. With that simple touch, her body went liquid with intensified need. His palm was filled with her softness, and his thumb moved almost featherlike across the rosy tip, bringing it to a hard peak. Unprepared for the sensations it aroused, Adanel arched her back, silently begging for more.
Dugan was a man unleashed. He wanted to possess every part of this mystery woman. His hands cradled her breasts while his lips trailed hot, openmouthed kisses, down the curve of her throat and to her collarbone before going lower. God help him, he could not stop touching her.
Her nipples had grown painfully hard under his palm and Adanel did not know what to do with the onslaught of sensations. She felt hot everywhere. She did not know her body could feel so much pleasure. Daniel had been her first, her only, and being with him had been beautiful and full of love and wonder. She would always cherish what they had, but this stranger was introducing her to a world in which she knew she would never get enough.
When he took one hard nipple in his mouth, Adanel cried out from the pleasure. She had wanted to feel alive but had not realized that the feeling would be so incredibly addictive. Once with this man would have to last a lifetime and so she was going to revel in every touch, caress, and sensation this Highlander was creating within her. She wanted to never forget a single moment.
Licking one tight nipple, Dugan curled his tongue about it, drew it into his mouth, and then suckled, clasping her tightly as she writhed beneath him, rubbing herself against his hardness. Her movements were unrehearsed and driving him mad with lust. He needed to be inside her more than he could ever remember needing anything.
This encounter was forever going to haunt him so Dugan was determined to ruin her for all other men. When they parted ways, she would never forget him or what their being together was like. So much so, she would be unable to lay with another man. She was his.
Adanel felt herself panting and all he was doing was touching her breasts. She was not sure she could handle much more. He pulled slightly upward, and with a finger traced around the hollow of one bud. “You’re so beautiful . . . so very beautiful. . . .” And then, in the next instant, his mouth consumed her once more. His tongue twirled over the first peak, then the next.
Adanel thought she might die from pleasure. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. His muscles rippled with power, flexing and contracting, symbols of his enormous strength. Touching him and the onslaught of his mouth left her powerless to his tongue and lips. Her body writhed against him, declaring how much she wanted him, how much she needed him.
Between her nails and soft whimpers, Dugan knew he was about to lose control and take her, but he also knew if he did before she was ready, he would never forgive himself. She would know ultimate pleasure, and it would be from his touch.
He gripped her wrists with one hand and lifted them above her head. She strained against the hold, but he ignored her halfhearted protest and leaned down to recommence the flicking and teasing of her nipple with his tongue. His free hand began a new journey as his fingers lightly caressed her stomach and then trailed farther until he met with her core. She gasped, the sound a half cry, half mindless moan created from an overload of sensation.
Adanel closed her eyes as thick, tutored fingers slipped into her most sensitive spot. She could neither move nor think as a rush a pleasure coursed through her. She shuddered. “It’s so . . . it’s so . . .”
“So what, aithinne?”
“So good,” Adanel moaned.
Dugan’s lips curled in triumph and then he began to move his finger inside her, ever so slightly. He stroked her tight flesh with a careful thumb and watched as she responded to his touch. He had wanted, desired, and had many women in his life and he knew how to bring a lover to fulfillment. But never had the act of simply watching a woman being pleasured aroused him to such a level of need. She had no idea of the blissful, ever-sweet reward she was giving to him, and he was determined that this beautiful woman would receive pleasure in every way possible before he was done.
He bent his head to taste her breast again as he added another finger, stretching her. He pushed deep so that Adanel gasped with pleasure. She was on fire, her body needing, burning, screaming for more. “It is not enough,” she panted.
Dugan lifted his head and smiled. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers and let go of her hands. Adanel groaned in protest, but when she felt his hands on her inner thighs, she suddenly realized what was about to happen.
Adanel gasped at the unfamiliar caress and instinctively tried to retreat from the heated touch of his tongue. Her hips bucked against him, but he held them firmly in place. He slipped his finger into her again as he took her in his mouth, his tongue hot, rough, and insistent. Her panic then changed into the most wanton kind of desire.
Her back arched, nails digging into whatever they could find. Adanel shook with pleasure as he traced his tongue back and forth. Her heart beat faster; her breath stuck in her throat.
Dugan moaned as the taste of the sweetest honey filled his mouth. Everything about her was erotic. He was in enormous pain, but he refused to halt his sensual attack until she was satisfied, boneless, and sated. Only then would he crush her to his chest and find heaven within her folds.
He groaned against her, and Adanel could feel the vibration reverberating through her core. Her hips began to rock as increasing pleasure raked through her. Then, with a choking cry, she felt wave after wave of intense pleasure heightened by the relentless caress of his tongue. And yet, it still was not enough.
Reluctantly, Dugan lifted his head. His body was raging at him. He could wait no longer. He had to bury himself deep within her and for her to feel as consumed by him as he was by her.
“I need you,” he grunted, his voice husky with desire. “I need you, aithinne.”
Adanel felt his hard arousal against the junction of her thighs and then him reaching down and carefully opening her to his first thrust. She cried out when he plunged between her thighs, burying himself in the warm softness of her.
Dugan felt as if he was in heaven being burned by a devilish fire. The sudden sensation of heat, damp, and incredible tightness surrounding him almost undid him, but hearing her soft cry, Dugan forced himself to remain still.
She was a sheath of velvet fire, and he had to struggle against his need to keep thrusting, deep and hard. His aithinne was not a virgin, but it was obvious that she had not been with a man in a very long time. The tight feel of her around him was driving him mad. He wanted to take her hard and fast, making her cry out his name in bliss, but she was so tight, he did not know if it was possible for him to continue without causing her pain.
But then he could feel her relax as her body accepted his size and length. He eased himself slowly out and then deeply back into her snug passage. Adanel wrapped her legs around him, demanding without words for more. Needing no further encouragement, Dugan started to move within her and soon he could no longer think. The fire inside him raged out of control, searing away caution, reason, and even will. Nothing mattered except being as close to her as he could be.
Adanel let her head fall back as renewed need surged through her. She wanted him inside her, as deeply as she could take him. He was hot and wild, masculine and perfect. She wanted this time to last forever and raised her hips to meet his.
Their bodies came together in perfect union. Dugan watched as her breasts, full and firm, quivered with each hard thrust. He was not going to last much longer.
“Chruitheachd,” Adanel gasped, unable to bear the sensations any longer. Her body was peaking and going into hard, tight convulsions. He must have known because his arms clenched around her, and he came into her with deep, fierce thrusts that carried her right to the edge. With a soft, choked cry, she surrendered to the glittering storm of sensation that swept over her.
As she cried out her pleasure, Dugan clamped his mouth tightly down over hers, swallowing the sounds of her passion. Her small convulsions squeezed him demandingly, and Dugan could not hold in his own exultant shout as his body surged deeply into hers one last time before rolling to the side to withdraw and release in a hot, deep, hammering surge of waves. Instinctively, he held her to him and then he collapsed breathless, sweat-sheened and utterly shaken.
As the echoes of their release ebbed away, Dugan took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. After waiting a minute to let his heart calm, he leaned over her, and with her face cradled between his hands, kissed her, long, hard, and deep. Then, unable to let her go as he knew he soon would have to, Dugan rolled to lie beside her and pulled her against him.
Adanel nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Her hands softly slid back and forth across his chest.
Dugan knew he should stop her sweet caress. Instead, he nuzzled her hair and held her tight as though he never wanted to let go. Her touch . . . his response . . . both felt natural and possessive in a way that normally would send him running. But Dugan was in no hurry to end this moment. If he could, he would prolong it for as long as possible, refusing to examine just why he was suddenly willing to break one of his primary tenets.
Cuddling after sex was fraught with danger. It almost always created a clingy woman, making her feel free to ask for more even though he had made it very clear he did not believe in commitment or relationships. Holding this redhead changed none of that, but she had yet to ask for more, and until she did he was content to stay where he was—locked in her embrace.
“What’s your name?” he whispered against her temple before kissing it.
Adanel pushed herself up and placed a soft finger against his lips. “Can’t you just be my soldier and I be your aithinne? Let’s not think about tomorrow. I just want to be here with you, here, now, no more.”
Dugan swallowed and then nodded his head. As his beautiful firebrand nestled back into the crook of his arm, he asked himself if there could be a more perfect woman. No wonder he had felt comfortable holding her. Instinctively he must have recognized a kindred spirit. They would part with no commitments or expectations. He should be thrilled. So why did the idea of never seeing her again bother him so much?
Chapter Two
Faden felt the tension running up his arms and back relax as soon as he saw a flash of red. Adanel’s hair was the exact same shade as most of the MacLeods’, him included. Except for her dark brown eyes, his niece was the spitting image of his eldest sister, Faia.
He had been nine years old when Faia had left their home to marry Laird Mackbaythe, and he had been seventeen when she had passed away. But despite their age difference and time apart, he remembered his sister vividly. She had been the most beautiful and kind person he had ever seen. The complete opposite of his own personality.
Faden was neither kind nor anything close to what passed as attractive to the fairer sex. He had unruly red hair with streaks of gold that belonged on a woman, not a man. His hair was untamable at any length, and he was forced to tie it back, which then made his large ears the focal point of stares and sniggers. His prominent nose was crooked from being broken half a dozen times, and his cheeks looked like carved asymmetrical sculptures that bothered one without knowing why. Only Adanel thought him attractive, claiming that someday a woman’s heart would swoon every time she looked into his wayfarer-blue eyes. He doubted it.
It was not unusual to have to wait for Adanel’s arrival down the mountain, but he had never had to wait this long. Faden had started to wonder if something was wrong and was considering making the long trek to ensure she was well when he finally spotted her red hair.
When Adanel turned the last corner and beamed him a smile, Faden narrowed his gaze upon seeing her unusually happy expression. He had been tasked with guarding his niece since she was twelve, and only once in nearly fourteen years had he ever seen Adanel so joyful. It was like a warm glow flowed through her being. If he did not know better, he would think Adanel had not been alone all afternoon and had been instead similarly engaged in the same activities he had enjoyed just a few hours ago with a nearby widow.
“Isn’t it a little cold for swimming?” he asked, pointing at her wet hair. He debated asking her if she’d been alone, but he knew she had been. Only their footprints were in the area and he could not see Adanel risking another man’s life after what had happened to Daniel. It broke Faden’s heart that she was forced to keep men at a distance for his niece deserved happiness more than anyone he knew.
“What can I say?” Adanel replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “The sun came out and the cool water beckoned me. I enjoyed it so much that I lost track of time. Why? Worried about me, uncle?”
When Adanel first discovered the loch, Faden had trudged up there with her repeatedly only to sit and do nothing. He could not even really watch her since she was bathing.
Then one time on their way to the loch, they had encountered a plain but youngish widow on their weekly outing. She had married one of the men who had chosen to remain independent and cared not that Faden wore a Mackbaythe tartan. Instead, she had made it clear that she would welcome his company if he were interested. She being willing and uncomplicated, Faden had made it clear that he was very interested. She scratched an itch, and their time together gave him something to do when Adanel disappeared to her loch. And so from that week forward, when Adanel went for her adventure, in need of escape, he had gone for his.
“Worried about us. We are late,” Faden said, and tossed Adanel her horse’s reins.
She easily caught the leather strips and hoisted herself onto her mount. “I don’t think anyone will notice that we are half an hour later than usual.”
Faden scoffed. Adanel intentionally avoided attention and smartly too. Her father, Laird Eòsaph Mackbaythe, enjoyed cruelty and surrounded himself with those who felt similarly. And while the man had never physically harmed his daughter to Faden’s knowledge, her father felt no guilt about making her watch as he hurt others. Over the years, Adanel had become an expert at eluding such events, but unfortunately, when certain people came to visit, the laird wanted both his children present. This evening was one of those nights.
“Normally, no one would notice, but tonight your father expects you at dinner,” Faden replied, and kicked his horse into a fast trot.
Adanel followed suit. Her smile had faded. “Me? He never wants me there anymore.”
It was not exactly true. On rare occasions, her father did demand her attendance, but less and less over the years. When she was young, her presence made him appear like a dutiful parent whenever there were guests. But as she aged, his feasts became a lot more macabre and those who were invited seemed to relish his displays of animal cruelty, having little to no interest in her. So, she had stopped coming, and thankfully her father had not cared.
How to Marry a Highlander Page 4