Lured to the Night (The Brotherhood Series Book 4) (12 page)

BOOK: Lured to the Night (The Brotherhood Series Book 4)
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Perhaps noticing that his mouth hung open so wide he was practically dribbling, Isla gave a seductive wiggle, pushed the dress down over her hips and let it fall to the floor. Noting the absence of a corset or stays, he smiled inwardly. The woman was nothing if not unconventional. Sliding out of her petticoat to stand in just her chemise, she offered a bashful smile that bordered on being coy. His heart thumped in his chest. Hard and loud.

He waited for her to remove the last item, but noted her hesitation. With only a fine layer of cotton covering her modesty perhaps she felt self-conscious, a little embarrassed.

“Take it off.” He hadn’t meant to sound so commanding, but his husky tone betrayed the true depth of his desire. “I want to look at you. I want to gaze over every inch of your delectable form.”

A sensual smirk replaced a look of apprehension. She raised her hands in the air, challenging him to finish what she had started. “I might need a little help.”

Needing no other prompt, Lachlan jumped off the bed. He came to stand in front of her, placed his hands on her hips. Through the thin fabric he could feel the heat radiating from her skin, could feel the soft curve where her hips met her narrow waist. His hands moved up over her ribs to cup her breasts, lightly thumbed her nipples until she closed her eyes and a moan escaped from her lips. When she heaved and sucked in a breath, his confidence in his ability to please soared.

Balling her chemise in his fists, he resisted the urge to tear it from her body. Instead, he let it glide slowly up over her skin before raising it over her head. The material felt warm in his hand. He stepped back to survey God’s marvellous creation.

“Lachlan,” she chastised as she tried to hide her nakedness behind awkwardly positioned limbs. “There is no need to stare. I’m sure I am not the first woman you have gazed upon.”

He ignored her comment as she was the only woman who had ever captured his interest. “Don’t be shy. Let me see you.”

With a mild huff of protest, she dropped one hand but left the other on her hip. Never in his wildest imagination could he have envisioned such pure perfection. He almost choked at the sight of her luscious body. He drew his hand down his face as he tried to identify the strange emotion filling his chest. It didn’t matter how many women he’d seen naked or how many he’d pleasured. Being with Isla was an entirely new experience.

“Come here.” He threw her chemise onto the bed and beckoned her to step forward. Without any hesitation, she closed the small gap that separated them and fell into his arms.

The feel of her warm creamy skin pressed against his was …. well, he could find no words.

“Kiss me, Lachlan. Touch me as though the last few years had never happened.”

Lachlan claimed her mouth. The kiss was fierce, possessive, leaving her in no doubt she was his now. She clutched his shoulders, ran her hands through his locks. Nimble fingers played with the sensitive hair at his nape, twirling and teasing, sending a charge of energy down to his bulging cock straining against the confines of his trousers. She must have read his mind as her hands fluttered over his chest, even lower still.

“I can’t promise our joining will last for more than a few minutes,” he mumbled when she began fiddling frantically with the buttons on his trousers. “This may be our first time together,” he gabbled as he assisted her in stripping him bare. “But I promise you it will not be our last.”

After stepping out of his trousers, he gathered her up in his arms, aware of her shocked expression as she noted the size of his jutting erection. A wave of masculine pride coursed through him. Good Lord, he never been so hard in his life.

Dragging back the coverlet, he lowered her down onto the bed. A round mark on her hip captured his attention, and he made a mental note to ask her about it at a more appropriate time.

She looked up at him and tugged his hand, forcing him to focus. Her blue eyes brimmed with longing, with wonder. “Make me yours, Lachlan. For now. For always.”

Every sensual comment she made aroused him further. A guttural groan escaped from his lips as he came down on top of her and covered her body. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, rocked her hips as though she wanted him to take her there and then.

“Do you not want to take things slowly?” he asked as the tiny hands racing frantically over his back led him to believe otherwise.

Her golden locks brushed against the pillow as she shook her head. “Don’t wait,” she panted as she suddenly gripped his buttocks and pushed against him. “I need you now.”

Bloody hell. He would need the restraint of a monk to refuse such an irresistible request.

Rising from the bed and using his elbow to help support his weight, he took himself in hand to guide his erection until the head breached her entrance.

He stilled. “I assume you’re not a … a …” Damn, he could not form the word.

“No.” She paused. “I gave myself to Nikolai believing he was my husband.”

Hot, molten rage rushed through his veins. A vicious curse burst from his lips. It was what he had expected to hear. But the reality made him want to shout, roar, punch the walls until his knuckles bled and the pain obliterated all else.

She cupped his face and forced him to look at her. “It meant nothing to me, Lachlan. You know I was not myself when I married him. This is the first time I have made my own choice. I want you. It has always been you.”

Her words soothed his soul. Nikolai may have ruined the last three years of his life, but he refused to let him ruin this moment.

Pushing aside all other thoughts he entered her completely, filled her full and deep with one slow, delicious slide. They inhaled sharply, held their breath and stared into each other’s eyes as they absorbed what this moment truly meant to them.

They were as one — as it was always destined to be.

Finding the strength to move, he eased out of her warm body only to thrust back home with a groan of satisfaction. After three of four strokes, she mimicked the pleasurable rhythm. The urgency to pour his seed into her took hold. His movements grew fraught with the need to sate the years of suppressed longing.

“We belong together,” he roared, reminding himself that nothing would ever keep them apart again. “You’re mine, Isla.”

“Always,” she whispered, her eyes glazed, half-closed.

He wanted to pleasure her, spend long glorious hours bringing her to the point of release. But their first joining was about more than lustful cravings. It was about letting go of the past. It was an acknowledgement of the truth, a cementing of their union.

“Next time I will make you sing with the dizzying effects of your release.” He locked his gaze with hers as he thrust hard and deep. He rolled his hips and rubbed against her sensitive spot in the hope of increasing her pleasure.

Indeed, the Lord must have understood his frustration. Perhaps he had witnessed their struggles and so sought to bless this heavenly coupling.

“Don’t stop,” she cried out, the slight tremor in her legs alerting him to the possibility that they would both soon be soaring.

He claimed her mouth; their tongues danced in a wild and erotic motion until she stilled. He breathed in her sweet moan of ecstasy as she shuddered beneath him, found his own glorious release as the muscles in her core pulsed around him, hugging him, promising never to let go.

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

 

Isla put her head on Lachlan’s chest. The dusting of dark hair brushed her cheek, and she closed her eyes and inhaled his unique scent. With his muscular arms wrapped around her, there was no place in the world she would rather be. The few hours spent alone together had been sheer bliss. As promised, Lachlan lavished her with attention. Years of suppressed longing had finally been sated. But she would always crave the deep sense of belonging she only felt when joined so intimately with him.

“We must go soon,” she said with regret.

A heavy sigh breezed from his lips to ruffle her hair. “I know.”

She placed her hand over his heart, the restful beat pulsing lightly against her palm. Had she possessed the ability to sleep, she would have believed she’d been dreaming. Indeed, the heavenly experience confirmed that nothing could temper her love for Lachlan. Oh, how she wanted to tell him. But the words fought a battle with logic on the right to be heard. If the cure proved successful, she would tell him then. Only then could she express herself freely without fear.

“Are you attempting to read my thoughts again?” His amused tone made her smile.

“I don’t need to,” she said as her hand drifted from his chest to brazenly stroke the evidence of his mild arousal. After all they had shared she had no need to be shy.

Lachlan sucked in a breath. “Have a care. I have the strength and the stamina of an ox. One word from you and we would soon be too preoccupied to notice the sun rise.”

Heat pooled between her thighs at the thought of joining with him again. Her desire for him could easily overwhelm her. But she had no intention of being relegated to a pile of ash, not when a cure for her affliction was within her grasp.

“Come,” she said, forcing herself to sit up. She turned to face him, aware that his gaze drifted between her lips and bare breasts. “We must leave before it is too late. In a few hours, I will lock myself away in my chamber and hope the Lord sees fit to grant me a reprieve.”

Lachlan sat up, crossed his arms behind his head and relaxed back against the mound of pillows. “Perhaps I could keep you company.” A wicked grin touched his lips. “They say distraction is the best technique when dealing with pain.”

There was no one she would rather have by her side. But what if she had a reaction to the elixir and he was forced to watch her draw her last breath? She did not want that to be his last memory of her.

“I thought you wanted to sit with Boyd and discuss the plans for the repairs to Carrick Hall.” Her face grew warm as his lustful gaze drifted over her. She crossed her arms over her chest as a means of covering her nakedness.

He shrugged. “It can wait until tomorrow. I trust Boyd to make any necessary arrangements. Besides, one more day won’t make much difference.”

During bouts of fanciful musings she often imagined Lachlan sneaking into her private quarters. “By the time we return to the castle, everyone will be in bed. Peers rarely rise before noon, or so I hear, which means once I am safely ensconced in my chamber, I’ll have hours to spare before I need to drink the cure.”

Lachlan ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Judging by the lascivious glint in his eyes, he understood her covert message clearly.

“Then what are we waiting for?” He slid out from the beneath the sheets, scanned the floor for his trousers while her wide eyes surveyed his powerful thighs and taut buttocks.

She doubted she would ever grow tired of looking at his impressive form.

Quelling the need to devour him, she rummaged around in the dark for her discarded garments.

“I threw your chemise on the bed.”

Isla glanced back over her shoulder, caught him staring at her body with the same level of appreciation she had shown him. “Thank you,” she said with a smirk before pulling back the coverlet and locating the cotton shift.

“That round mark on your skin,” he said as he buttoned his trousers. “How did you come by it?”

Isla swallowed. “This?” she said rubbing her hip as though the seared impression was mud or dirt and not a symbol scorched into her flesh. “Nikolai had one. He marked me, too.”

A heavy silence permeated the air. She dressed quickly, keen to avoid any more probing questions that would ruin their carefree mood.

“Why?” he eventually said. “Why would he hurt you like that?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. But the marquess and his wife have them too. I’ve always seen it as a means for Nikolai to express his superiority. He owned me, or so he believed.”

Lachlan clenched his jaw so hard she could hear his back teeth grinding against each other. “I swear if he were not dead I would hunt him to the ends of the earth and make him pay for what he has done.”

She appreciated the noble gesture. But in reality, they both knew Nikolai possessed the power to compel Lachlan to do his bidding.

“It is nothing.” She lied, waving her hand in the air to show her indifference. If she told him it roused feelings of shame whenever she looked at it, then he would always see it as such too. “I often forget it is there. Indeed, it appears to have faded over time.”

Lachlan shook his head and frowned as he gazed past her shoulder. “I have seen the symbol somewhere before, but cannot place it.”

“I have seen similar engravings on the Pictish stones, but I’m sure it is just a coincidence.”

They finished dressing, straightened the sheets on the bed. After locking the front door and hiding the key, they made their way out into the night.

As they strolled back through the meadow, Lachlan took her hand and stroked it affectionately with his thumb. “I missed you,” he suddenly said. “During my time in Edinburgh, you were on my mind constantly.”

Isla gave a low chuckle. “I’m sure you never gave me a second thought when you were busy entertaining other ladies.” She referred to the licentious behaviour Malmuirie had gossipped about even though it pained her to think of another woman lying in his arms.

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