Page 61 of In the Highlander's Bed

Fourteen

Yes,Constance wanted to cry out. This was what she’d hoped for. Her very soul opened to him.

Gordon stood, bringing her up with him. His arms slid around her waist. She grabbed hold of his shirt, not wanting to give him the opportunity to escape. Not now, not ever.

His kiss was hungry, almost angry. It was as if he had denied himself for too long. He held nothing back, and she was his oh-so-willing accomplice.

“Constance, we shouldn’t—” he began, but she shut him up with another kiss.

No more arguments. She knew what shewanted. From the moment she’d met this man, he had reshaped her life.Hewas what was important. He was what she valued.

The ferocity of his kiss robbed her of breath. Her knees no longer held her weight. She leaned into him for support, and when he swung her up in his arms, she offered no complaint.

Gordon moved back into the sheltering darkness of the pines. He laid her on the soft, thick bed of needles, stretching his long body along hers, his tartan a blanket beneath them. Constance didn’t care what he did as long as he kept kissing her.

A wet nose sniffed close to them. Tad. Gordon lifted his head. “Go hunt,” he ordered the dog, who quickly obeyed.

Gordon returned to her. “Now where were we?” He found his place by kissing her neck.

His fingers tugged at the lacings of her brown dress, deftly loosening what she had so hastily tightened. The bodice opened.

Gordon’s lips followed the line of her jaw, lingering at a sensitive point where her head and neck met. Her body seemed to open to him with a will of its own.

Her breasts were full and tight, as if anxious for his touch. He brushed the nipples with his thumb and she wanted to sing with joy.

This was what she’d yearned for. This man.

She offered resistance when he settled his weight upon her. At some point he’d unfastened his breeches. He was aroused, his body hard and firm. Pride filled her that she did this to him. He wantedher.

“You are so beautiful,” Gordon whispered against her ear.

“So are you,” she answered.

He laughed, the sound joyful and mirroring her own heart. His mouth covered hers. No, it plundered hers. He’d pushed her dress up. Her petticoats were damp but she didn’t feel the cold. His heat kept her warm.

Gordon’s hand touched her intimately.

Muscles deep within her clenched and Constance gasped at the pleasure. She’d wrapped her arms around him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, not ever wanting to let him go.

She was not naive. She understood what happened between a man and a woman. As his hardness pushed its way inside her, she braced for the pain. There was a momentary tightness, as sharp as a needle’s prick.

He held himself back, waiting for her to grow accustomed to the size and shape of him.

“I’ve hurt you,” he said, his voice tense, as if it took all his power to hold back. “It becomesbetter,” he promised, and lifting her hips with his hand, began moving inside her.

He was right.

Constance buried her face in his golden hair. His movements were slow at first, as if he was still being careful. She didn’t want him to do that. She wanted him to take her, to make her completely his.

She dug her heels in, curving her body to meet his, and Gordon let go. His thrusts went deeper with an increasing pace. His lips were by her ear and he kept repeating her name as if she alone drove him.

Constance vowed she’d never, never,everlet him stop. They were going to spend the rest of their days just like this—

Suddenly, she felt as if she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. For a glorious moment all her senses were centered on him. Her blood sang—and she couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

Her legs wrapped around his, bringing him as deep as she could, and still it wasn’t enough.

He thrust, once, twice, and then completion.