The Highlander's Haunted Kiss (6 page)

With each loop undone, she felt more of her fears slide away. The slight abrasion of his callused fingers elicited a raw pleasure along her bared skin.

A delectable freedom from her confining garb.

“Iain?” She levered herself up to see his face. “Do you truly feel as I do? The hunger?”

Perhaps it was only maidenly fear, but having recalled the unusual nature of the Caledonian forest, she would hear the truth from his lips.

“Nay.” His green eyes met hers.

The rough honesty raked over her with a brutality she had not expected. But before she could pull away from him, he cupped her bottom through her skirts, lifting her onto the hard length of his thigh.

“I feel the hunger a hundred times more. It is so fierce I do battle with it every second, but for your sake, I will keep it at bay.” The harsh note in his voice took on new meaning as she began to understand what he meant. “Not for the world would I hurt you or frighten you, but I am dying to be inside you, Lily.”

The pressure of his thigh in the most intimate of places incited new aches. A new fire within. She did not understand the level of hunger he spoke of, but with that one shift of position, she began to glimpse the possibilities of what he meant.

“I must be free of my gown,” she urged, wriggling her arms to slide them from her sleeves.

With a ragged groan, he aided her, his fingers raking the fabric down and away. As the outer garment slid off to reveal her corset, Iain's mouth dipped to the swell of her breast just above the silk. His tongue swept along her skin before he drew on her lightly, sucking and nipping. The kiss set her aflame all over, the sensation kindling an answering heat between her legs.

She rose up on her knees on their bower bench, lifting herself against his mouth, silently demanding more. Already, nimble fingers worked the hooks and fastenings, peeling away the stiff undergarment until the material dangled loose, the straps slipping down to her elbows. Soon her breasts were bared to the unnatural moonlight and Iain's avid gaze.

“You do not need to hold back on my account,” she whispered, her fingers in his hair, tugging him toward her. “I long for more.”

He cupped her breasts in his hand. Lifting them. Cradling them. He licked along the pebbled peak of one and then the other, as if he could not choose between them. She arched closer, demanding a deeper kiss until he drew one tight bud into his mouth and suckled hard. She gasped and gripped his shoulders tighter, bolstering herself so she did not collapse against him into a boneless, quivering heap.

Carefully, she slid her arms free from the corset, discarding the silk beside their bower bed. Only her drawers remained, so she went to work on Iain's plaid. That was easily tugged away, revealing more bronzed skin and sculpted muscle. She ran her fingers over one flat male nipple, testing the feel of him everywhere she could reach.

He released her breast to trail kisses down her belly along the smooth cotton lace of her only remaining undergarment. Lifting her at the waist, he laid her down on the bower seat, her freed hair falling off the edge to brush the pine needles below.

“I am speechless at the gift you give me,” he said softly, palming her waist, the heel of his hand moving lower. Lower.

“I am more anxious for the gift I will receive.” She didn't know what made her so brazen with him. Perhaps it was because she had nearly missed the chance to experience this kind of union with a man.

And Iain was no ordinary man.

The male stretched over her was an impressive strong warrior. For all she knew, he was made of magic himself.

Finding the ties for the drawers, he tugged one and the garment loosened. He eased the material down her hipbone, lowering his head to kiss the hollow there. His warm breath on her delicate skin sent a shiver through her until he gripped her hips to steady her.

She glanced down at him, his dark hair falling free of the queue. Fireflies danced around them, the moonlight making the night come alive in their bower while the rest of the forest retreated in darkness as if they were the only ones on earth. Right now, she did not care if they were.

He peeled down the cotton drawers, licking a path down her abdomen as he bared her skin. The sensation was extraordinarily decadent, or so she though until he dipped one wide shoulder beneath her thigh. Lifted her hips…

She gasped in sweet surprise as his tongue found the heart of her pleasure and flicked over it. Over and over. She had no warning at what that would do. Sensation coiled and tightened. Breathless, she gripped his forearms where he steadied her hips. His muscles worked subtly as he steered her where he wanted her, his kiss gentle and yet relentless.

Pleasure burst through her in a sudden, white-hot flame. It squeezed and released her until she was utterly at its mercy. She cried out Iain's name, her fingers reaching for him, needing him with her and closer to weather the sweet storm that caught her unaware.

“I am undone,” she whispered, a strange desperation taking root inside her beside the delicious satisfaction. “Completely.”

“Almost.” He kissed her hip. “But not quite.” He kissed her belly. Her left breast. “Do not fear,” he whispered as the rest of his plaid slid off his hips.

She felt the hard length of him against the inside of her thigh. If he had not assured her not to worry, she would have done so.

“Kiss me,” she asked, needing to lose herself in the pleasure of his mouth. “If you kiss me, I think all will be well.”

His lips covered hers at the same time he entered her. Only a little at first, but he nudged her thighs wide with his, making room for himself. Her heart pounded. Her breath came fast.

For long moments he kissed her while his fingers played in the damp heat between her thighs. His touches recalled the surprise sweetness he'd coaxed from her before until she found herself relaxing. Each time, he entered her more. Deeper.

The pleasure built again, but she knew the pace was difficult for Iain. Sweat beaded along his brow and she recalled what he said about the hunger being one hundred times worse for him. Was it true?

Ah! Of course it was true. He could only speak truth to her here. All at once, she did not want him to be gentle with her. She wanted to give him what he craved more than she wanted her first time to be perfect.

“Iain.” She licked his earlobe then nipped it, her breasts pressed tight to his chest. “I crave all of you.”

Trailing a hand down his bare back, she pulled him toward her.

Not that she could move him unless he willed it.

“I do not wish to hurt you.” He smoothed a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Please.” Taking a deep breath, she arched her back and thrust her hips into his.

She knew the moment when her maidenhead was no more.

“Lily.” Iain called her name even as the pleasure overtook him.

She stung inside, but still she found deep satisfaction watching the play of sensations over his face.

“Do not hold back for me,” she urged, eager for him to feel the things she had.

“Nay.” He moved slowly. Cautiously. “I will not hurt you. There will be time enough later.”

The rhythm of his hips soothed some of the burn between her thighs. When he took her breast into his mouth again, the ache eased even more. When she met his thrusts, he moved harder. Faster.

She clung to him as she learned what pleased him. The pleasure built again. Slower. When he found his release, it rocked her to her core, his body straining deep into hers.

With a shuddering breath, he drew her close. Kissed her forehead. As the last of the waves rocked him, he opened his eyes and studied her.

“Lily.” There was a strangled note in his voice she did not understand.

Wasn't he replete with pleasure, as she had been?

“Have I…not done something right?” She was afraid to ask, but she needed to know if she hadn't pleased him.

“You've done everything so beautifully there are no words for it.” His eyes held a dark sadness though, belying his every word.

“I do not understand.” She shook her head, wishing she could rewind time. “I asked for this. You have given me what I most wanted and so much more.”

She imagined nights in this enchanted forest where he taught her all the lush pleasures he already knew. He could sneak into her bedchamber and no one would ever know. She would wait impatiently for each day to end.

“You don't understand how true that is.” Shifting away to retrieve his plaid, he wrapped it around her even though the night was unnaturally temperate for the Highlands in autumn.

“What do you mean?” She clutched the wool tighter, a sense of foreboding stronger than any chill.

“You see me so well. You have spoken true words about wanting me in a forest ripe with magic.” He shook his head. “I fear you are my one true love.”

“I—” She swallowed. “I am not sure of my feelings, but I would not have offered myself to you if I had not felt—”

“Nay. You do not need to explain. I mean only that we will come to love each other.”

“That doesn't sound like such a terrible thing. In truth—”

“Lily.” He gripped her hands in one of his. With his other, he pressed a finger to her lips, quieting her. “I have not been with a woman for one hundred years. Pleasure has been denied me until my one true love arrives to break the curse.”

She didn't understand.

“We can be together then.” They would not be limited to hidden encounters in her bedchamber. “My parents will be powerless to dictate my life if we—”

“Listen. The woman of my heart has only two choices.” The anguish in his eyes was clear enough. “She can deny her love for me and I will no longer be cursed because I will be…dead.”

“Never.” Her heart ached at the thought after the tenderness he'd shown her. Why would he suggest that as an option? “What else can I do?”

He shook his head. “I fear if you declare love for me, you will be forced to leave everything you know. You may be doomed to walk through time with me, Lily. Forever.”

Chapter Five

“My lady!” A man's voice echoed through the forest, the sound jarring Iain.

“Did you hear that?” Iain sorted through their discarded garments and passed her the corset she'd worn. All at once, the forest went darker, the moonlight dimming on the bower that had been bright with magic—and the sparks between them—only moments before.

Danger was close.

“I thought we were safe in this special forest?” She tugged the silk fabric into place and struggled with the fastenings while he wrapped his plaid securely. He wished he could wrap her up as well and protect her always.

He hated to end their time together that had rocked him to his core. That had shifted his whole world until Lily was the center of it.

“We are safe from dark magic.” He did not know the
Sidhe
to penetrate this part of the Caledonian wood. Not without help, at least. Yet that's how it felt to him—as if the fae enemy lurked nearby. “But mortals can follow us here. Does that voice belong to someone you know? One of your servants?”

“It might be Edward, my footman.” She stepped into her gown and slippers, tying laces and adjusting layers of fabric with speedy hands, her eyes wary and watchful. “He's the only man who accompanied me, but I suppose my father could have hired someone to search for me and bring me back to London.”

Iain would not allow that to happen. And yet, he feared even more what could happen to her if she stayed here with him. He knew the greatest love he could show her would be giving her up if it meant keeping her safe.

“Lily.” He hated to leave the bower. Hated to walk away from this time that had been the most beautiful of his life. But the burden of his wandering existence was no place for her. She deserved better than this.

Than him.

“Should we hide?” She put a cool hand to his chest, her body tense with fear even as her cheeks remained flushed with the color that he'd put there.

It was going to kill him to let her go, but already he could hear the sound of someone tramping through the woods. Twigs snapped and branches rattled as someone moved closer.

“Nay.” Iain gripped her hands in his. “You must trust me on this. I need you to go to your father or Edward or whoever you trust most. You are not safe here.”

“I trust no one but you.” She clutched his arms, her grip surprisingly strong. Her expression certain. “You said it yourself, we are meant to love—”

“No.” He cut her off. Why had he told her that? “You must not say it. I do not know what will happen if you speak words like that aloud. Especially here, of all places.” He feared if she confessed love for him, she would be cursed to wander forever alongside him and it was a risk he could not take.

Even if it meant he could never hear Lily confess sweet sentiments that he'd been denied for a century.

“We can run deeper into the woods. You must live somewhere. Or perhaps your brothers will protect us?” She glanced frantically in every direction, as if one of his kin would appear at his side. Yet the only sound that greeted them was that of an intruder coming closer, the crunch of footsteps, the echo of a low, unrecognizable voice muttering curses.

“We take turns searching for our lost sister,” Iain explained, although it was Magnus's turn tonight. Perhaps Alexander would arrive before it was too late. “I feel my enemy is closing in, Lily. Return to Invergale. Quickly.”

“What about you?” she asked, just as a graying man burst into the clearing, stumbling and out of breath.

“Edward!” Lily rushed to him, her hands all but holding him up as he wavered on his feet. “Are you injured?”

Iain followed her, wary of the servant's arrival when the feel of the
Sidhe
grew stronger. They were close, Iain was certain.

“Forgive me, my lady.” The footman glanced around the clearing, his eyes wide with fear. “I was forced to open a door within the keep and the most terrible things rained through—”