The Lover (35 page)

Niall turned abruptly, one black eyebrow slashing upward in mockery. “Brute?”

“Aye,
brute!
” She reached the shore just then, but stumbled over the hem of her cloak. In frustration, Sabrina tore off the water-logged garment and threw it to the ground.

To her dismay, she realized her muslin scarf had come free, while her breasts had slipped from the confining imprisonment of her boned bodice. All that covered her bosom was a thin, wet chemise.

Niall’s gaze skimmed her pale curves, locking on her exposed breasts, where the water-taunted nipples strained darkly against the dampened cloth. A mocking smile curved his lips. “You’ll not appease me with feminine lures, sweet. Though I admit the notion is tempting. You make an appealing sight, your face flushed with temper, your eyes flashing fire…”

A wild tirade of verbal abuse danced behind Sabrina’s clenched teeth. She had always prided herself on her self-control, but now she marveled at the strength of the rage that shook her as she sloshed toward him.

He stood his ground, his hands on his narrow hips. “’Tis such a fascinating change, from prim lady to spitting tiger—albeit a soggy one—”

She hit him. Drawing back her arm wildly, Sabrina swung with all her might. Her fist struck the hard slab of his chest before Niall caught her wrist in a fierce grip.

Danger jumped and pulsed around him like lightning, his blue eyes brilliant with fire.

“Vixen,” he breathed as he pulled her brutally against his body. “Apparently a lesson in wifely obedience is in order.”

“Obedience!” Sabrina fairly hissed the word. “I shall never obey you…you arrogant knave!”

“We shall see about that, wife!”

His hand tangled in her hair in a fist of hard control as Niall brought his mouth fiercely down to cover hers.

    Chapter    
Thirteen

He was all angry fire and hard, dominating male. He kissed her savagely, ravishing her with his tongue.

Sabrina strained against him, struggling to no avail. When Niall at last raised his head, she was panting from exertion.

“Damn you…release me before I…I box your ears!”

“’Tis unwise to threaten a man when you’re in his power,” he warned, his voice as tight as his imprisoning arms.

She should have heeded his advice, but her blood was up now. When he lowered his mouth to kiss her again, she sank her teeth into his lower lip.

Niall cursed savagely and jerked back. Yet Sabrina hadn’t won. She gave a startled cry as he bent and heaved her over his shoulder like a sack of oats.

“Let…go…of me…you swine!” she exclaimed between breathless gasps.

“Nay, lass, not till we have this settled!”

Rab, to her further fury, remained neutral in their battle, barking playfully as with swift, sure strides, Niall carried Sabrina to the crofter’s hut.

Shoving open the door with his booted foot, he stepped inside, then kicked it shut behind them.

Inside, the dim interior was hazy with smoke. The peat fire burning in the hearth gave off a welcoming warmth to Sabrina’s wet, chilled body, but she scarcely needed the heat, so scalding was her anger. The instant Niall set her on her feet on the hard earthen floor, she swung at him.

Capturing her wrists, Niall ignored her resistance and glanced around the small cottage. The blackened rafters were hung with herbs and weapons, while in one corner of the room stood a rope bed with a heather-stuffed mattress.

“Fergus is away, I see. He’ll not mind if we make use of his bed.”

Sabrina glared at him. “You must be daft if you think I’ll allow you to make love to me!”

“Take off those sodden skirts, madam, or I shall do it for you.”

“Devil take you, you’ll not lay a hand on me!”

Niall clenched his jaw. Their argument had gone beyond anger or desire. He felt a wild need to mark Sabrina indelibly as his, to brand her with his scent, his touch, his taste, to drive the thought of any other man from her mind. She would never
think
of taking another lover when he was through.

His eyes returned the fire of her gaze. “Do not think to deny me, wife.”

His hard-looking mouth hovering over hers, he curled his fingers over the edge of her chemise, drawing down the fabric. When his palm covered her damp breast, her body responded with humiliating swiftness, the nipple tightening to a rigid, aching peak.

“Do you truly think any other lover can please you as I can?”

“Yes!” she retorted scathingly. “Any man would please me better!”

She twisted in his grasp, struggling fiercely. When she brought her knee up between his thighs, Niall barely prevented the blow from doing him an injury. He laughed at the sheer pluck of the wench and tightened his hold.

Lifting her up, he tossed Sabrina on her back on the heather tick. She scrambled to her knees, panting with such passionate fury that she would have scratched his face could she have reached it.

She was unutterably wild and glorious, Niall thought as fire ripped through his groin: her dark eyes flashing, her cheeks tinged with angry roses, her luscious breasts heaving, begging to be caressed. The jutting nipples drew his admiring gaze.

“You want me,” he observed. “I can see your aroused nipples, your flushed skin…”

She hastened to cover her nakedness with her arm. “I don’t want you, you arrogant cur!”

He laughed again insolently and took a step toward her.

“Keep away from me! I don’t want you touching me.”

“I’ll touch you and more, sweeting. I intend to make you beg for me.”

“You will not!”

It was a challenge he could not ignore. Niall tossed aside his plaid. “You really should refrain from saying things you don’t mean, pet. You’re a hot-blooded wench in need of a man.”

“A
man
, yes! Not a ruthless barbarian.”

“I can be gentle, as you well know.” He shed his leather waistcoat and then his shirt, revealing the wide swath of his broad, bronzed chest. Unfastening his trews to free his erection, he stood half nude before her, all harsh masculinity and bold magnificence. “I’ll lay wager that I’ll soon have you beneath me, panting and mindless with need.”

His blazing arrogance fueled her fury. “You fiend, you can’t make me want you! You’ll get no response from me.”

“We shall see.”

Their eyes locked in a silent, fiery battle of wills. In the small cottage, tension vibrated between them, feral and primitive. He intended to demand her surrender, Sabrina knew.

Helplessly, she licked her dry lips as he moved toward her. “I’ll…I’ll scream.”

“Aye, you will…with passion when you sheathe me in your hot silk.”

“I’ll scratch you, I’ll bite!”

His mouth curled with grim amusement. “I trust you will. I want you scratching and clawing at me. An angry spitfire makes good bedsport.”

“Bedsport!”
Her fingers clenched into angry fists.

Resting one knee on the bed, Niall stood over her challengingly, his eyes burning into hers. Trapped by his powerful body, Sabrina dropped her incensed gaze to his splendid arousal, huge and thrusting.

She could feel her heart pounding. Niall would win if she let him touch her.

Turning abruptly, she lunged for the foot of the bed, trying to escape, but Niall flung himself after her. Covering her with his body, he pinned her down with his weight, pressing her chest into the mattress. Her cry of outrage was muffled by the covers.

“Aye, play the spitfire for me, Sabrina…Let me feel your fury. You’re hotter and tighter when you’re angry, just how I want you.”

Ignoring her wild struggles, Niall drove his straining manhood against her skirts, probing the soft buttocks beneath. “That’s it, fight me, sweet tiger. I want you writhing and breathless when I drive deep inside you. I want you moaning my name, pleading with me to love you…”

“I
won’t…
”

Her nipples already hurt, their hard points chafed by the wet linen, but when his hands reached around to cup and fondle her, they contracted into tight aching buds, shooting arrows of excited painfulness deep between her thighs. Roughly he kneaded the peaks, deliberately arousing her.

“Let us see how ardently you protest when I bury myself inside you.” He pushed up her wet skirts, exposing her bare thighs. She could feel the cool air on her chilled buttocks, feel his warm fingers between her legs…

“Niall…plague take you,
no!
”

“
Yes,
sweeting.” His voice was dark velvet. “I’ll not relent until you burn for me, till I feel the pleasure rip through you…”

His promise made her pulse leap wildly. She could feel the heated length of his sex brand her naked thighs like searing steel, feel the pulsing urgency of his lithe, magnificent body.

His teeth grazed her ear, his breath coming harsh and hot against her skin as he said, “Even now the fire in your blood burns for release.”

“Curse you…get…off me!”

In partial compliance, he arched his body over hers, but instead of freeing her, he lifted her on her hands and knees, rendering her completely vulnerable. Kneeling behind her, he stroked the velvet-sheathed hardness of his arousal against her yielding bottom, making her weak with longing.

Sabrina fought to hold back a ragged sob of desire. She tensed rigidly as his hand slid between her legs and brushed the tight nest of curls. He found her cleft hot and slick with her own juices, the feminine bud of pleasure throbbing with heat.

Not allowing her to escape, he thrust two fingers up inside her. Sabrina bit her lip to keep from screaming in excitement.

“You clench so tightly around my fingers,” he murmured, his voice as dark and seductive as black velvet. “I can’t wait to feel you sheathe my cock.”

His bold fingers thrust deeper and she moaned, a pleading sound of need, a shameless yearning to be filled and stretched by this man…dominated and possessed…She wanted him, hot and deep and male, inside her.

She could feel him poised behind her…his fingers parting her honeyed thighs for his taking…the swollen head of his shaft potently probing the silky folds of flesh. When she made one last desperate attempt to pull away, he gripped her buttocks in his strong grasp and in a single rough stroke, plunged to the hilt inside her.

It was a stunning act of possession, one that almost made her faint with sensation. Sabrina cried aloud at the incredible feel of his fiery spear piercing her, forcing her wide open, a curse spilling from her lips. Yet when he made to withdraw, she braced her palms against the mattress and thrust wildly back against him, impaling herself on his magnificent flesh.

He laughed, the husky sound raw with triumph and excitement, and swiftly drew back, only to plunge within her again.

She was panting by the time he’d thrust twice, and groaning by the fifth powerful stroke. He drove fierce and full inside her, ramming himself hard within her, his swollen sacs slapping against her mons. Her senses reeled with the feel of him, while brilliant flames leapt against the blackness of her mind.

“Oh…God…”

“Aye, that’s the way of it…Moan for me, tiger…”

“Sweet mercy…Niall…please…”

She was dimly aware she was begging, yet she didn’t care. She writhed wantonly at his savage plundering, the wild frenzy building within her as he ravished her so exquisitely. She shook as the brutal, grinding pleasure surged relentlessly, sobbing aloud with sweet, mindless wanting.

Feeling her shudders, groaning as she trembled tightly around his engorged shaft, Niall drove her ever higher. He was beyond anger, beyond thought, driven by a fierce nameless hunger. He felt her convulsions of ecstasy begin an instant before searing talons of sensation ripped through him. He heard her scream as she shattered, heard his own hoarse shout as his body exploded in an endless, piercing rapture.

Her flesh continued to pulse sweetly long after the moment of orgasm. Niall felt the faint rippling as he collapsed weakly upon her, felt his heart beating in a frenzied echo of her own.

When the last faint, delicious spasm was spent, when the madness had receded a little, he withdrew from her and shifted his body, relieving Sabrina of his weight. He was still breathing harshly, his skin still sheened with sweat from the frantic, almost savage urgency of their lovemaking.

Her silence disturbed him, though.

Forcing open his eyes, he gave her a searching look. He had marked her as his; her face was dewy from the heat and violence of his possession.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked thickly.

“Mortally,” she muttered, her withering tone suggesting that her pride had suffered more than her flesh.

Her scathing retort relieved him, yet her body was doubtless wet and chilled from his dousing in the loch. Easing himself from the bed, Niall determinedly stripped off her sodden garments and wrapped her in his plaid.

“I have no intention of remaining abed with you,” Sabrina grumbled in protest as he sat beside her and began combing her wet hair through his fingers.