Seduction of a Highland Lass (McCabe Trilogy #2)(64)

This time when he slid into her from behind, he lacked some of the urgency of before. Almost as if he’d sated himself and could be more patient this time.

He pushed back and forth, setting a slow and steady rhythm, almost exploratory in nature. He squeezed her plump bottom with both hands and massaged as his c**k disappeared into her body over and over.

He worked into her until her body started to respond. Soon she arched upward to take him and she tingled in anticipation, her womb clenching with desperate need. She gasped and curled her fingers into tight fists in their bonds.

Then he reached between the pillow and her body and his fingers found the sensitive nub between her legs. He stroked and caressed until she was wild in her need for release. Still, he continued his relentless assault, never deviating from the steady pace he’d begun.

She was nearly weeping with her need. Her body was strung too tight. The pressure was painful.

And still, he pushed back and forth, infinitely patient.

His fingers stroked gently over her flesh until finally she was as taut as a bowstring at full draw. And then finally, all the tension released in one huge burst of exquisite, mind-numbing pleasure.

Her vision blurred. She cried out his name over and over until all she could hear were her own sobs. Wave after wave, seemingly unending until she melted into the pillows holding her up to him.

She lost awareness as she floated on some distant cloud. For several long moments she had no understanding of her surroundings or that he continued to push into her.

Gradually she became aware of the slapping of flesh against flesh and realized that he was still inside her, riding her ruthlessly.

She hadn’t the strength to do more than lie there as he commanded her body. Unbelievably she felt the stirrings deep within her core as he continued to thrust.

He was less patient now. He grasped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. He pounded into her, now seemingly determined to build the fire within her anew.

It was sharper, faster, and more intense this time. He whispered her name. Then he leaned forward, his hips powering against her behind with bruising strength.

“You’re mine,” he uttered. “Mine. You belong to me. No man will ever have you as I’ve had you this night.”

Warmth traveled through her blood, curling low in her pelvis. Nay, no man would ever lay claim to her in the way that Alaric McCabe had.

She gave herself over to the rising tide. She surrendered. She wanted nothing more than to belong to this man. She shuddered in the throes of her release and opened her body fully to receive him.

He pulled from her, his retreat nearly painful around her swollen, tender flesh. Then she felt his seed against her back as he lay against her, his chest heaving with exertion.

He kissed her nape and whispered soft words she couldn’t even hear.

For a long moment he lay against her, his c**k pulsing against her flesh. Then slowly he pushed himself off and untied her wrists. He held each one and massaged her hands until all the tingles had gone away.

“Stay here,” he said as he left the bed.

He returned a moment later with a warm cloth and gently wiped the remnants of his passion from her back and bu**ocks. When he was done, he rolled her over and pulled her into his arms.

“Never have I acted thusly with a woman,” he admitted as he stroked her hair. “ ’Tis something primitive within me that roars at me to claim you, to make you mine and to mark you in some permanent way.”

She smiled and cuddled closer to him. She was deliciously sore and sated. “I like that you mark me yours. I never dreamed that something like this existed between a man and a woman.”

“Neither did I,” Alaric said ruefully. “You inspire me, lass.”

She chuckled and then yawned. Alaric kissed her brow and pulled her even tighter against him.

“What do we do, Alaric?” she whispered. “ ’Twas only supposed to be one night.”

He ran his fingers through her hair and laid his cheek against her forehead. “We take it one day at a time and savor every moment together. When the time comes to say good-bye, we’ll have these nights to look back upon and remember how fierce the passion was between us.”

Chapter 27

Keeley was convinced that the birth of Mairin’s child was not only a blessed event in the McCabe clan but in heaven as well. In January, when winter was usually at its harshest, what could only be considered mild weather settled in just a fortnight before Lady McCabe’s birthing time.

It was as if the whole of the highlands waited with held breath for the appearance of the heir to Neamh Álainn.

Oh the weather was still cold to be sure, but the snows hadn’t fallen in weeks and the wind hadn’t howled. The sun seemed to shine brighter for the short period of the day it rose, and the nights didn’t seem quite so dark.

Mairin was becoming increasingly impatient. In the evenings, Keeley gathered with Maddie, Bertha, and Christina and they took turns entertaining Mairin to keep her mind from her impending delivery.

Even Ewan joined in and spent many an evening sitting with his wife in front of the fire in the great hall. ’Twas a relaxed time, and more and more Keeley felt a part of the McCabe clan.

Though she and Alaric were careful to keep public contact to a minimum, their nights were spent behind the closed doors of her chambers.

He’d come to her late, once all were abed, and he’d make sweet love to her until dawn’s rays spread across the sky.