experience it, not only write about it.
She felt the warmth of his mouth on her shoulder, a kiss pressed to skin. “Now open them,” he commanded, “and look straight above.”
She did. And was promptly lost in the beauty of the sky.
It was stunning. Midnight blue, with just a faint rim of light on the horizon. Stars spilled across the canvas of sky, so brilliant as to hurt her eyes. She blinked, wondering how this could be the same sky she’d seen all week.
“It looks d-different,” she gasped.
She felt his lips trail down her bare arm and shivered into the feel of him. “The walls of the ruins block the moonlight as it reflects off the surface of the loch,” he explained. “So the effect of the stars is intensified.”
“Oh,” she breathed and then nearly whimpered as his mouth met hers, warm and insistent.
Had she thought the night perfect before? Now it was perfect, his kiss so deep as to make her feel as though they were breathing the same air. He pulled her closer, and she welcomed the heat of his body, pressed fully against her front, the cooler air at her back.
It would hurt to say good-bye to this man tomorrow.
But for now, at least they had tonight.
H e was already dreading the end, but William tried hard to focus on the opportunity now in his hands. She was here tonight, lying in his arms and bathed in starlight.
They could worry about the leaving later.
He kissed her as though there was no tomorrow. Pressed his mouth to secret, fragrant places, until she writhed beneath him and cried out his name. She still called him MacKenzie , though, rather than William . He was determined to eventually change her mind.
She tasted like home—sweet, earthy ale from the Gander and salt-slick summer days—and her skin carried the faint scent of lemons from the soap she used. He licked at the indentation of her collarbone, nipped at the delicate skin of her neck, as though she were a cake laid out to assuage his appetite. His fingers swept across the curls that guarded her secrets, and the moisture there told him how much she wanted this.
Wanted him.
He slid a finger inside her warmth and lowered his head against her neck, breathing in deeply. Bloody hell. “No sponge this time?” he nearly groaned in frustration.
She shook her head. “I had thought to p-put it in when we went back to the room.” He could feel her body quake as his finger swirled inside her. “You surprised me.” She gasped in pleasure. “P-perhaps it won’t matter?”
He released the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Having Pen naked in his arms was like holding a loaded gun. And Christ above, he wanted to make love to her, here, on the banks of Loch Moraig, where she wouldn’t soon forget her visit. Forget him .
If they made a child tonight, it would be a way to keep her, he was sure of it.
But could he live with himself, knowing he had trapped her in such a way?
He was not sure he had the strength to do what he was about to promise, but he didn’t see another way. “I won’t spill my seed inside you,” he told her.
She nodded, clearly trusting him.
He only hoped he trusted himself.
He slid inside her, and the feel of her body and the slight sound she made there in the back of her throat—the same sound, in fact, she had made during their first kiss—nearly made him break that promise.
He stilled. Let his body settle and adjust to the bright white pleasure of simply being inside her. And then he began to move. She moved with him, her head tipped back, and tonight he could see she kept her eyes open, as though not wanting to miss a moment.
He placed his hands on either side of her face and stared down into those beautiful, wide-open eyes, holding her close as he moved inside her. He murmured to her in Gaelic and comforted himself with the knowledge she need never know he’d just told her how much he loved her. All too soon she was shuddering beneath him, coming apart in his arms, and he knew he had but
She felt the warmth of his mouth on her shoulder, a kiss pressed to skin. “Now open them,” he commanded, “and look straight above.”
She did. And was promptly lost in the beauty of the sky.
It was stunning. Midnight blue, with just a faint rim of light on the horizon. Stars spilled across the canvas of sky, so brilliant as to hurt her eyes. She blinked, wondering how this could be the same sky she’d seen all week.
“It looks d-different,” she gasped.
She felt his lips trail down her bare arm and shivered into the feel of him. “The walls of the ruins block the moonlight as it reflects off the surface of the loch,” he explained. “So the effect of the stars is intensified.”
“Oh,” she breathed and then nearly whimpered as his mouth met hers, warm and insistent.
Had she thought the night perfect before? Now it was perfect, his kiss so deep as to make her feel as though they were breathing the same air. He pulled her closer, and she welcomed the heat of his body, pressed fully against her front, the cooler air at her back.
It would hurt to say good-bye to this man tomorrow.
But for now, at least they had tonight.
H e was already dreading the end, but William tried hard to focus on the opportunity now in his hands. She was here tonight, lying in his arms and bathed in starlight.
They could worry about the leaving later.
He kissed her as though there was no tomorrow. Pressed his mouth to secret, fragrant places, until she writhed beneath him and cried out his name. She still called him MacKenzie , though, rather than William . He was determined to eventually change her mind.
She tasted like home—sweet, earthy ale from the Gander and salt-slick summer days—and her skin carried the faint scent of lemons from the soap she used. He licked at the indentation of her collarbone, nipped at the delicate skin of her neck, as though she were a cake laid out to assuage his appetite. His fingers swept across the curls that guarded her secrets, and the moisture there told him how much she wanted this.
Wanted him.
He slid a finger inside her warmth and lowered his head against her neck, breathing in deeply. Bloody hell. “No sponge this time?” he nearly groaned in frustration.
She shook her head. “I had thought to p-put it in when we went back to the room.” He could feel her body quake as his finger swirled inside her. “You surprised me.” She gasped in pleasure. “P-perhaps it won’t matter?”
He released the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Having Pen naked in his arms was like holding a loaded gun. And Christ above, he wanted to make love to her, here, on the banks of Loch Moraig, where she wouldn’t soon forget her visit. Forget him .
If they made a child tonight, it would be a way to keep her, he was sure of it.
But could he live with himself, knowing he had trapped her in such a way?
He was not sure he had the strength to do what he was about to promise, but he didn’t see another way. “I won’t spill my seed inside you,” he told her.
She nodded, clearly trusting him.
He only hoped he trusted himself.
He slid inside her, and the feel of her body and the slight sound she made there in the back of her throat—the same sound, in fact, she had made during their first kiss—nearly made him break that promise.
He stilled. Let his body settle and adjust to the bright white pleasure of simply being inside her. And then he began to move. She moved with him, her head tipped back, and tonight he could see she kept her eyes open, as though not wanting to miss a moment.
He placed his hands on either side of her face and stared down into those beautiful, wide-open eyes, holding her close as he moved inside her. He murmured to her in Gaelic and comforted himself with the knowledge she need never know he’d just told her how much he loved her. All too soon she was shuddering beneath him, coming apart in his arms, and he knew he had but
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