Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(37)
His eyes flared, any control he'd managed snapped. Her legs tightened around his waist as his hands gripped her naked bottom. The feel of his big, callused warrior's hands hard and demanding on her soft flesh sent fresh tingles up her spine. He kissed her again, and his hips started to move, thrusting hard and deep. The force of each stroke shuddered through her, setting off wave after wave of sensation. She gave over to him completely, not knowing that anything could feel like this. Not realizing passion could be so fierce and furious.
Her breath was coming in short gasps, echoing his sharp grunts. Her heart was pounding. Heat engulfed her. She could feel it coming. Faster and faster, he plunged into her, his powerful body surging into her with every thrust.
“I can't,” he growled through clenched teeth, his face a mask of tortured restraint. She knew he was waiting …
Her body contracted. “Oh, God,” she cried out as the spasms ripped through her in wave after hot wave.
But her cries were drowned by his. He held her hips and thrust into her one more time, holding her against him as his body jerked with his own release. A guttural sound of raw ecstasy tore from his chest. Warmth rushed between her legs.
When it was over, Jeannie couldn't move. Utterly spent, utterly boneless, her entire body sagged like a poppet made of rags in his arms.
His breathing was still coming hard when his eyes found hers. “God, I'm sorry.”
She looked up at him in surprise. “Whatever for?”
Shame tinged his handsome features. “For taking you like a damned animal. Look at us.” Gently he eased himself out of her and lowered her to the ground. Her body chilled, protesting the sudden emptiness and loss of his heat. Her legs were a little shaky but she managed to stand upright—not a small feat with jelly in her bones. Boyish befuddlement clouded his gaze. “I've never been like this before. Something comes over me …” his voice dropped off. “You deserve to be worshipped, to be made love to properly. On a damned bed for starters.”
He looked so chagrined. She put her hand on his cheek, the rough stubble scratching her palm. “It was wonderful. I love what you do to me.” She smiled. “I can't imagine anything more …” her cheeks heated, “proper.” She tilted her head. “But I suppose there is one way we could rectify the situation.”
His gaze sharpened, hot and penetrating. “How's that?”
She glanced past his shoulder to the narrow bed, her fingers starting to work the fastenings of his mail at his shoulders. “You could show me all that I've allegedly been missing.”
Heat flared in his gaze. “Do I detect a challenge, my lady?”
She gave an exaggerated shrug, her eyes dancing wickedly. “If you aren't too tired. You were doing all the work, after all.”
“I assure you, my love, it wasn't work.” He kissed her, nuzzling her mouth with his lips and tongue, then moving onto her ear. “Nor am I tired,” he breathed against the damp skin, sending a shiver down her spine. He scooped her up into his arms. “Though I appreciate your concern for my welfare.”
She giggled and whacked his chest. “What are you doing? Let me down.”
A very naughty grin spread across his gorgeous face. “I think not. I intend to show you exactly how to do this properly.”
And he did—twice—though she suspected there was nothing proper about it at all.
Hours later, Jeannie collapsed in an exhausted heap of naked entwined limbs just as she'd wanted. But never could she have imagined the absolute contentment, the intimacy forged in the arms of another. She could stay like this forever, tucked under his arm, her head resting on his shoulder, her cheek pressed to bare skin. This might be her favorite place in the entire world. She inhaled his warm, masculine scent, savoring the moment and knowing she would remember it always.
His soft breathing sounded in her ear, filling her with contentment such as she'd never known before. She smiled, her fingers toying with the smattering of fine hairs that formed a triangle on his chest. He'd earned his sleep.
So had she. He was here, with her, safe.
She sighed, nuzzling deeper into the crook of his arm, and closed her eyes. Everything was going to be all right.
It was her last coherent thought before sleep dragged her under.
It was still dark when Duncan jerked awake.
He swore, furious with himself for falling asleep. He needed to get back to camp before he was missed. Carefully he untwined himself from Jeannie's naked limbs and eased from the bed.
It creaked loudly with the removal of his weight and Jeannie stirred, but did not wake. It was probably for the best. He hated leaving like this, without explanation, but neither did he have time for another scene.
He hadn't meant for this to happen. He'd only meant to comfort her, to calm her fears with a gentle kiss. But he'd tasted her need, felt her urgency in the sweet press of her body against his, and desire had reared up inside him like a wild angry beast demanding to be set free. Would it always be like this between them? Hot and explosive, almost desperate in its urgency?
Even after the first time, his efforts to slow the pace and tease out her pleasure were for naught. Their emotions were too raw, their passion too fiery, their need too violent. He lost his mind when he was with her. A small part of him questioned whether he was equipped to handle something so intense. He'd never thought something like this could happen to him. He'd always felt his destiny lay on the battlefield; love had never seemed part of it. Love only complicated things. He need only look as far as the old tales of Arthur or Tristan to see that.