The Trouble with Highlanders (5 page)

Need tore through her, and she gasped. It was a crazy twist of pleasure unleashed by his grip on her bottom.

“I haven't had a woman since we parted,” he growled the admission, right before he lifted her off her feet and placed her on the table. “Ye cast a spell over me.”

“I did nae,” she protested, for one moment her brain resuming its ability to function. “Maybe… this is wrong… unnatural.”

Her thighs parted to make way for his body, and he pressed them even farther apart. Her chemise rose up, baring her sex completely. He reached for her exposed slit, fingering it gently, and gripped the back of her head to keep their gazes locked.

“There is nothing more natural than seeking each other out when our bodies demand it so much.”

He fingered her folds, sending need pulsing through her passage.

“Yer body is wet and eager, Daphne…”

She trembled, feeling like she was going to tumble off the edge of a cliff into a vortex where there was nothing to hold onto. He slid his fingers down to the opening of her passage, pushing her closer to that fall, and the walls of her sheath contracted with the need to be filled. She reached out and wrapped her hand around his cock. It was hard but smooth as silk against her palm. He jerked, sucking in a stiff breath when she slid her hand all the way to the base of it and then slowly back up.

“I am not the only one beset by need.”

His eyes narrowed, hunger glittering in them. “No, ye are nae.”

He kissed her again, pressing her mouth open to allow his tongue access. Her passage quivered with anticipation, and he didn't make her wait. He cupped her hips, holding her in place. The head of his cock slid easily into the slick entrance of her body. She expected less resistance, since she was no longer a virgin, but her passage protested the first thrust.

He growled and pulled free. His grip remained firm on her hips to keep her from lifting her hips to drive him deeper.

“Ye are delicate, Daphne. 'Tis a wonder ye have such a fiery spirit.”

He pressed his cock forward once more, her body taking him more easily.

“Ye bled overly much the first time.”

His tone was tender and his motions too slow to suit the need raging inside her. “Stop treating me like a child.” She grasped him and reached around his body to hold him closer while locking her legs around his hips.

He thrust forward, going deeper this time. “I hardly think of ye as a child, Daphne.”

He withdrew and thrust again. This time she lifted her hips and broke free of his hold for just a moment. His length lodged completely inside her, stretching her passage. She pulled in a harsh breath but laughed as she blew it out.

“Minx,” he accused softly.

“If ye do nae care for me demeanor, get out. No one is forcing ye to bed me.”

He renewed his grip on her hips and began to work his cock in and out of her body. “It would take the hounds of hell to drag me away.”

All playfulness had evaporated from his tone. It was hard and edged with determination. It had been dark the last time they spent the night together, but now she could see his face. There was a raw hunger glittering in his eyes. His lips were curled back as need took command of them both. Daphne wasn't thinking; she was responding. To every thrust of his hips and every point of connection between them. She moved to meet him with every stroke, straining toward his next thrust because she craved the hard presence of his length deep inside her. The need made no logical sense, but caught up in the moment with desire threatening to crush her in its grip, there was nothing to do but meet the demand of her own flesh.

She wasn't close enough to him. Pleasure was twisting through her belly, begging for just a bit more. She wasn't even sure what she craved, only that he could give it to her. They both moved faster, and their bodies slapped against each other as they panted. He was holding back. She could feel his body shaking, and it enraged her because she wanted to be able to best him.

But her body wouldn't obey her will. There was no way to stop the pleasure once it began to burst. Centered beneath the hard thrust of his cock, delight shot up into her belly. She twisted and clawed at his shoulder while caught in the grasp of the climax. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he growled to announce his own release.

She gasped when his seed flooded her womb. It was hot and searing, sending another ripple of enjoyment through her. Even her frantic breathing couldn't seem to provide her with enough breath. As the world spun out of control, her eyes closed.

She woke up on the tabletop, the smooth wood hard against her back. Norris was leaning over her, his elbows the only things saving her from his full weight. His skin was hot, keeping the chill of the night away from her.

“Definitely a spell,” he muttered and pushed himself up.

“I'm sorry to hear ye are so susceptible to the whims of women.” She tried to roll away from him, but he hooked her around her waist and pulled her back against his body. He lifted her off the table, cradling her easily on the way to her bed.

“What are ye doing, Norris?”

“Taking ye to bed.”

He tossed her into the center of the bed, making the bed ropes groan and the curtains flutter. He reached for her, grasped only the shoulders of her chemise, and tugged it free. The garment fluttered onto the floor without a second glance from the man.

“Now that is me favorite position for ye, spitting and bare and ready to tangle with me.”

But he didn't follow her. Norris sat down and began unlacing his boots. He tossed one aside and then the other before standing up.

“Sweet Christ, how can ye be stiff again?”

He tossed his head back and laughed. “I swear ye are the boldest virgin I ever encountered. The most bewitching, as well.”

Daphne drew herself up onto her knees. Her pride bristled beneath the casual way he lumped her into the group of women he'd known.

But
what
else
might
she
expect?

“It was yer idea,” she reminded him. “Nae that I'm refusing to acknowledge me share of the blame. Which is why I did nae invite ye to me chamber tonight. Ye're a knave to cry witchery.”

She should have been afraid of him. One sentence uttered of spells, outside the walls of her chamber, and she'd face a trial. He was a nobleman, son of the most powerful earl in Scotland. Half of her own clan would be happy to see her done away with. But all she felt was hurt by his callousness. She reached for a pillow and sent it sailing at his head.

“Get out! If ye want to see me tried for witchcraft, ye can do it from another chamber.”

He brushed the pillow aside with a fluid motion that betrayed just how adept he was at fighting. The motion was reflex from the years of training he'd endured. For just a moment, she realized how daring she was, to argue with him. There wasn't a soul who would take him to task for striking her. In fact, she could easily end in the stocks for forgetting her place.

“I was teasing ye, Daphne.” He shook his head. “Ye are nae the only one who tires of the burdens of position. For the moment, I couldn't care less about who me father is or what place I have in this world. All I crave is to crawl into that bed with ye and lose meself between yer thighs. I'm nae crying witchery. I'm begging to fall beneath yer spell.”

Yet his tone was full of arrogance and demand. Still, something warm rippled through her. It tempted her to smile when her better judgment warned her against letting him see too much of her emotions.

“Well… ye've already had that. So get on with ye.” She wanted to snap at him, but her temper was cooling beneath his admission.

“Get on with what, lass?”

He placed a knee on the bed and then one hand. A silly little twist of excitement went through her, which sent her lips twitching up into a smile.

“Shall I get on with wrestling with ye?”

She hugged herself instantly but battled the urge to giggle. “Ye've had me.”

Both of his hands were on the bed as he crawled toward her like a large predator. She couldn't resist glancing down at his cock. It still jutted out, hard and promising.

“Ye're naive, lass, for ye do nae understand the first thing about truly being had.” Something that looked like a promise flashed in his eyes. “We've barely begun.”

She shivered, anticipation renewing its grip on her. She shook her head, more for herself and her fickle emotions, because it should have been impossible to desire him again so soon. In fact, it was unnerving, like she was losing control of herself.

Norris grinned, the curving of his lips sensual and beguiling. He moved closer, stalking her across the bed like a hungry beast. “Oh, aye, me sweet. I've ridden ye sure enough, but there is much more to having ye.” His gaze lowered to her breasts. “And I believe I'll begin with learning what those little rosebuds taste like.”

“Ye should—”

“I surely should, indeed.”

He sprung at her, catching her in a solid embrace, and they both bounced on the bed. A startled giggle got past her battle to remain poised.

“Now who's encouraging mayhem?” He lifted his head and eyed her.

But she sobered quickly. “Witchery is a grave crime.”

He muttered something profane then cradled her nape and rubbed it gently. “Aye, but one exaggerated these days. Believe it or not, there was a time when lads and lasses might tease one another about falling under each other's spell without a bunch of church men getting involved.”

“Ye are nae just any lad.” She turned over and ducked beneath his arm.

“So me word would be taken as proof?”

She scooted to the headboard and used a pillow to shield herself. Norris sat back on his haunches, considering her for a long moment.

“I suppose I can nae fault ye for nae trusting me.” He shook his head. “Yet I do nae like the sound of fear in yer voice.”

“I am nae afraid of ye.”

He lifted one hand and curled his finger. “Then prove it.”

It was a challenge, one many would tell her she was insane to answer. But there was something inside her that refused to ignore it. Such had always been her downfall with this man.

She tossed the pillow aside and moved toward him. She hesitated only for the first moment, because as she moved closer to him, his face became an expression of wicked delight. Never once had she truly believed herself captivating.

Tonight, she did.

And she discovered she liked the feeling. Oh, it was likely vain of her or prideful or several other sinful things.

But
she
liked
it.

There was no longer even a hint of fear. Only fascination with the way his green eyes were focused on her. She flattened her hands on his chest, working them up his flat midsection and across the wider planes of his pectorals to his shoulders.

“Ye're enjoying mesmerizing me… admit it, Daphne.”

He cupped her breasts, sending a surge of heat through her. Somehow, she'd never noticed just how sensitive they were.

“Does yer ego need polishing?” She hooked her hands over his shoulders and used the hold to help lift herself up so she might straddle his thighs. He had them braced apart, so she had to spread wide to do it, and the folds of her sex opened, allowing the head of his cock to slip between them.

“From ye? Aye.” He teased her hard nipples with his thumbs. “Shall I admit how much it means to me to see ye mounting me without the glow of scheming in yer eyes?”

There was something flickering in his eyes that made her pause, a bitterness she understood. He slid his hands down her body to cup her hips and press her down.

“Aye, I know well what yer quarrel with Broen and Faolan was. Ye do nae wish to be covered and bred for the sake of a dowry.”

He'd pressed her down onto his cock, and pleasure filled her. But it was more than just the physical enjoyment of the moment; she felt like they were kindred spirits, both seeking nothing more than a companion who wanted them for themselves. She cupped his jaw, enjoying the harder, masculine feel of his skin, and kissed him. He let her lead for a moment, controlling their kiss even as she set the tempo for how fast she rose and fell on his cock.

Desire didn't flash through her; instead it built with every downward plunge. Pleasure rippled out from the friction of his member against her clitoris. As the need to move faster intensified, she lost the ability to continue the kiss, arched her back, and let her eyes close.

But Norris wasn't willing to allow her to master him. The bed rocked as he lifted her up, lodging himself firmly inside her, and pressed her back onto the surface of the bed.

“No…”

He took control of their pace the moment she felt the sheet against her back, riding her hard and deep while the bed rocked.

“Tell me yes.”

There was a hard demand in his voice, just as hard as the pace he set. She gripped his biceps, pulling him closer as need began to consume her. She arched to take each thrust and gasped when each stroke threatened to send her over the edge into madness once again.

“Tell me yes!”

“Yes!” she snarled.

He growled and arched his head back. A few more strokes, and she shattered. Her climax was blinding, ripping her away into a vortex of swirling sensations. They wrapped around her, wringing her like a length of toweling. If she remembered to draw breath, she didn't recall. All she noticed was the moment when Norris ground himself deeply inside her and his seed began to erupt inside her once more. Pleasure was still washing through her, and the walls of her passage milked his cock for every last drop.

Exhaustion settled on her almost in the same moment satisfaction did. Norris rolled over, collapsing next to her, but he kept one arm around her waist. Moving her legs together took the last of her strength, and she surrendered and allowed slumber to take her away.