Midnight's Promise (16 page)

He still held her leg and slowly ground against her. Evie’s eyes slid closed as pleasure filled her. She leaned her head against the stones, their coolness doing nothing to ease the heat infusing her.

Malcolm’s other hand lifted the hem of her sweater and touched her stomach. Evie hissed in a breath when his thumb caressed the underside of her breast.

Her breasts instantly swelled, her bra becoming too tight and confining. She wanted out of her clothes. She wanted Malcolm out of his.

Her body was fully aroused, and she needed relief. She was helpless to stop her hips from seeking him out.

He cupped a breast through the lace of her bra then lightly thumbed her nipple. She cried out, her knee giving out on her.

Malcolm released her leg and propped one of his between her. Her eyes flew open when his fingers touched her sex. She hadn’t even known he’d unbuttoned her pants or pushed them down. His gaze studied her as he slid a finger inside her.

Evie let out a low moan. In and out his finger moved, teasing her, learning her. She had to grab hold of him when his thumb flicked over her clitoris.

Then he was kissing her again, his tongue moving in time with his finger. Evie’s body was his to do with as he wanted, and he proved it by taking her higher and higher. He added a second finger and stroked her.

She tried to hold off the orgasm, but he wouldn’t allow it. He pushed her, demanding more. Her body wound tighter and tighter, the world falling away, until she shattered.

Waves of ecstasy seized her, took her, leaving her floating on a tide of mind-boggling bliss.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

Malcolm’s body throbbed and pulsed—not just from his need, but from witnessing the Druid’s pleasure and feeling it through her magic. It magnified his own need, intensifying his desire until she became the center of his universe and nothing else mattered.

He’d never known anything like that was possible.

Her eyes gradually opened. It took her a second to focus her clear blue eyes on him, and then her slow, satisfied smile nearly snapped the thin thread that was left of his control.

She seemed to glow she was so luminous. Her hips shifted, and he was reminded of his fingers still deep inside her. A pleasure-filled groan met his ears. Dimly, he realized it had come from him.

He could lay her down and have his way with her right then. It’s what she wanted. It was what he wanted.

Her head leaned to the side causing her dark curls to fall over his arm, their silky mass tempting him to plunge his fingers into the thickness and grab a handful as he held her head and plundered her sweet lips once more.

Malcolm pulled his fingers from inside her tight body. He tried to step away, but he couldn’t. The Druid had awoken more than just his desires. She’d stirred the emotions he thought long dead.

Emotions he wasn’t equipped to handle.

“Malcolm,” she whispered irresistibly, a slight frown marring her forehead.

His gaze lowered to her mouth to find her lips still wet and swollen from his kisses. He wasn’t sure why he’d pleasured her, only that he wanted to be able to bring something other than death and betrayal to someone.

The Druid reached for the waist of his jeans and unbuttoned them before he knew what she was about. He grabbed her wrists to halt her actions even as his balls tightened when her fingers grazed the tip of his cock.

He craved her hands on him. His mouth went dry just thinking of her lips sliding over his rod and taking him deep within her mouth.

“I know you want me,” she said. “I felt how hard you are. Why then did you stop?”

He didn’t have an answer, or at least not one that wouldn’t bring more questions.

With her hands trapped, she ground her hips against him. His control was slipping. Malcolm’s eyes briefly closed as pleasure swarmed over him from the contact. He was powerless to stop himself from rocking into her softness.

“You want me,” she whispered, her voice a siren’s call. “So take me.”

“Nay,” he managed past his tightening throat.

She rose up on her toes and slowly slid her body down his, her breasts against him, her sex rubbing along his cock. It was too much. After feeling nothing for so long, he was about to explode from the need driving him.

“Yes.”

He shook his head even as he leaned into her for another kiss. Daal laughed, the sound loud in his head, but it was a reminder of what he really was.

Like a bucket of ice water dumped on him, Malcolm was snapped out of the irresistible desire. He released her and took a step back. “You doona understand, Druid.”

Her body listed forward and she had to quickly gain her balance. “I’m not a … I don’t do this, Malcolm. I don’t allow men I barely know to touch me as you did. But I don’t regret it either. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I want to feel it again.”

All he could do was stare at her and the emotions crossing her face.

“I know you need release. If you don’t want to be with me, at least let me pleasure you,” she offered.

“I can no’.”

Hurt clouded her clear blue eyes, chasing away all the warmth and desire he’d given her. “Fine,” she said and pulled her pants up and fastened them. She turned and grabbed the torch as she walked away.

Malcolm flexed his fingers, fingers that had been inside her, stroking her to a fever pitch. Her heat, her moisture had been heaven.

Just before the Druid exited the chamber she halted and turned to him. “Tell me why you don’t want me.”

“I never said I didna want you.”

“You didn’t have to. You made it perfectly clear just now.”

“There are things you doona understand.”

She lifted her chin, daring him with her eyes. “Try me.”

Malcolm opened his mouth only to close it again. In all the months he’d wandered after betraying Deirdre, he’d kept away from people. There hadn’t been a need to interact with those he didn’t know. It hadn’t been a problem until the Druid.

She had smiled at him, asked him to be her friend, and she looked and touched his scars with awe. There had been no revulsion or pity in her eyes.

“You…” He paused and started again. “I’ve no’ felt anything in a verra long time. I’ve been dead inside. It’s how things need to be.”

“Because you betrayed Deirdre?” came her softly spoken question.

Malcolm looked away from her probing gaze. “I was dead inside before that. I’ve forgotten what it was to have any feeling. Until you. You have … roused what I thought was dead and gone.”

“Why is this a bad thing?” she asked and started walking toward him.

“Because I’ve forgotten how to handle them. As it is, my skin feels too tight with trying to hold it all in.”

“And making love would only complicate all of it,” she finished with a nod. “Will you tell me why you were dead inside?”

“Deirdre unbound my god.”

The Druid’s mouth dropped open as her eyes widened in astonishment and accusation. “Bloody hell. So … you’re a Warrior?”

Malcolm watched her take an involuntary step backward. “I was born in 1579.”

“That means you’re … Oh, shit.” She swallowed nervously and took another few steps back.

“Do you fear me now, Druid?” he asked angrily. “You wanted to know. Shall I tell you the long, ugly truth of it?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I’d spent years as a mortal helping Larena track down the MacLeods. We finally found the eldest brother, Fallon. As I hoped, Larena and Fallon fell in love. I was on my way to see them when Deirdre sent Warriors to kill me.” Malcolm turned his face so the light of the torch shone on his scarred side. “This is what they did.”

“Stop,” she murmured, her face stricken by what she was hearing.

“They tried to rip my arm from my body, using their claws to do it.” Fury built inside Malcolm so quickly he couldn’t contain it—and didn’t try to. He released his god and grimaced when he heard the Druid’s gasp. He held up his long maroon claws. “Claws like these. To this day I can still remember how it felt to have them ripping through my skin and muscle as they scraped to the bone. The Warriors could’ve yanked my arm off in a second, but they wanted me to suffer.”

The Druid took in an unsteady breath. “I don’t want to know any more.”

“Ah, but you asked,” he stated cruelly as the memories returned. “Broc came upon us and killed the others before taking me back to MacLeod Castle where the Druids did their best to heal me.” His chest ached as he remembered learning he didn’t have the use of his right arm.

The humiliation and frustration had been almost as bad as the helpless feeling that hadn’t released its hold on him yet. He roared his fury and plunged his claws into the rocks.

He didn’t want to remember any of the awful memories. The pain of it, the powerlessness he felt came rushing back as if it had just happened to him.

“They should’ve let me die. Why didna Larena let me go?” Malcolm hung his head, wishing he could go back to that fateful day and make Broc finish what the Warriors had begun.

“If Larena is all that you have, then you’re all the family she has. She didn’t want to lose you.”

“I was to be laird, Druid. I couldna return to my clan half a man who didna have the use of his sword arm. It wouldna have mattered to them that I was able to wield a sword with my left. To them, I wasna whole. So I stayed with the MacLeods. Mortal. Feeble. Helpless.”

He nearly choked on the resentment as he recalled being relegated with the Druids when Deirdre attacked. He was half a man, after all. He hadn’t been able to make a stand with the Warriors.

That had cut him deeper than anything Deirdre had ever done to him. It didn’t matter that Malcolm knew his friends had been trying to protect him. They hadn’t allowed him to be the Highlander he was.

“I stayed until I couldna remain any longer,” Malcolm continued. “I snuck away from the castle during one of Deirdre’s attacks. A few days later she found me and unbound my god. I promised to do anything she asked as long as she left Larena alone.”

Malcolm pulled his claws from the stones and faced the Druid. “I’ve killed in Deirdre’s name. I became a monster. And, aye, I betrayed her!”

His voice echoed in the chamber, making the Druid wince, but Malcolm didn’t care. He was too caught up in the raw emotions running rampant through him.

“Look at me,” he demanded of the Druid when she gazed at the floor. “Look at what I am. A Warrior, a man with a god inside him. You allowed me close and asked me to be your friend. You’re too trusting, Druid. It’s going to get you killed.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Perhaps I am too trusting. It’s better to be trusting than emotionally dead as you’ve been. You don’t feel anything. You didn’t even care enough to want to know my name despite promising to watch over me.” She shook her hand slowly as her ire mixed with her magic. “Every time I talk with you, you’re someone different. You want to scare me by showing me you’re a Warrior? Well bravo, asshole, because you did it.”

All the rage deflated from Malcolm as the Druid stalked away. Each of her words had been like a punch in his gut. He had wanted to frighten her so she wouldn’t ask him to make love to her. But now that he’d done it, he keenly regretted it.

Malcolm slumped against the wall. Who was he? He couldn’t begin to answer that question. He wasn’t the idealistic man who had been waiting to step into his father’s shoes as laird. He certainly wasn’t the easygoing person who had watched Larena with curiosity and jealousy.

The only thing he knew for certain was that he was a murderer and a betrayer. He didn’t deserve any of the friendships that had been offered by those at the castle, Guy, or the Druid.

He hadn’t realized not asking her name bothered her so much. He’d done it in an effort to keep his distance from her so she wouldn’t be tainted by who he was.

That had been blown out of the water when he began to lust after her. Then he kissed her. That amazing, glorious kiss had rocked him to his black soul.

In her kiss, he found desire, passion, and … tranquility. For those few precious moments he kissed and pleasured her, he forgot the fiend he was. For those minutes he’d become someone else, someone that had a soul.

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair. Whatever he’d found in the Druid’s arms was lost forever. It was time he called Phelan and told him of the Druid. Let Aisley help the Druid in her plight.

He pushed away from the wall and walked to the opening of the mountain. The rain had tapered to a drizzle. The mist was rolling down from the mountains to cover all that was in sight. A perfect place to hide.

Malcolm looked over his shoulder and briefly thought of telling the Druid farewell. He’d scared her though, and he would be the last person she wanted to see.

The taste of her was still on his tongue, her scent still clung to his body. Both of which would forever be etched upon him.

“Good luck, Druid,” he said before he jumped.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

Jason slammed his hand on his desk. Evangeline was cagier than he’d thought. She hadn’t responded to one of his e-mails in over a day.

He’d thought he had her right where he wanted her. Now he wasn’t so sure. He could force her with his magic, but he needed to have more finesse than that.

She had to willingly come to his side. He wanted her to know he had every intention of turning her
drough
, but that came later. First, he had to get her to his house and show her what it meant to have another Druid as her friend.

Once she was
drough
, it would take nothing to have Malcolm take her to his bed. Jason would love to use magic to help her get pregnant, but if he wished to fulfill the prophecy he couldn’t.

“Show me Malcolm and Evangeline again.”

Instantly, an image of Malcolm kissing the Druid formed on his desk about twelve inches high and in 3-D.

“I knew he wouldna be able to resist her. The attraction is palpable.”

The image shifted, and Jason watched as Evangeline walked away angrily. Jason frowned as he saw all the rocks.

“Where are they?”

Colors blurred as the image changed and drew back to show none other than Cairn Toul.