Page 29 of Love Beyond Reach (Morna’s Legacy #11)

“ D o ye wish me to leave, lass? I doona…” Jerry reluctantly pulled his hand away from my leg, allowing my nightgown to fall back toward the ground.

He lay his forehead gently against my own, his breathing ragged, his voice pained.

“If ye doona want this, send me away from here. I want too much from ye—things ye may not be ready to give.”

He was perilously close to doing so much more than just kissing any memory of Henry from my mind.

In truth, he’d already succeeded. I would never be able to kiss or look at Henry the same way again, but Jerry was holding on to his resolve to be respectful of me with so much fervor it was physically painful for him.

My mind had been made up the moment I opened the door. There was no turning back—not this night—quite possibly, not ever.

I reached up and placed my palms on his face, lifting his head up so I could look at him. Leaning forward, I whispered in his ear.

“What is it ye want, Jerry? Tell me. I want to know.”

He pulled back, his face suddenly serious.

“Did ye sleep with him, lass? Ye doona seem…” He faltered, searching for the right words. “Well, ye doona seem like a nervous virgin.”

I smiled and kissed him gently on the cheek before stepping away to stand across from him.

“Jerry, ye have met Mary, havena ye? I learned much about what happens in the beds of lovers at a far younger age than was proper. I know what this night can be between us. I wouldna have let ye inside this room if I dinna want it. Ye were right that night ye came into my bedchamber after I kissed Seumas. I wasted my first kiss. I doona wish to waste this.”

His expression softened as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath.

“Ach, thank God, lass. I dinna know for certain. I hoped,” he paused and raked his hand through his hair. “God, I hoped, but with the way the lad looks at ye, I worried ye’d bedded him.”

He stepped toward me, reached for my hands, and pulled me hard against him, whispering into my ear as I allowed my front to press against his chest.

“Ye do know I love ye, doona ye, lass?”

I trembled as his lips touched my neck. When his hand cupped my breast, I moaned.

“I hoped. I dinna know.”

His hand slid from my chest, up my neck, and to my face where he held me gently, his thumb sweeping soft strokes over my cheek.

“I have loved ye since I opened my eyes in that riverbed to see ye staring at me with those wide, green eyes. For so long, I wondered why this happened to me—why I was chosen to fall through time and leave everything in my old life. The moment I saw ye, I knew. We were meant for one another.”

Why had I kept the truth from him? His absence was no excuse.

I’d known long before that, but for so long I tried to deny it myself.

Did the spell Grier and I cast so many years ago make our love for one another any less real?

I worried that maybe it did. Or at the very least, that Jerry would believe it did.

Could I confess my love for him while holding this secret? Not if I wanted to sleep easily at night.

The feel of his lips across my collarbone begged me to surrender to the sensation, to relinquish my need to tell him what I knew.

“Jerry, there is something I must tell ye.”

He continued to caress and kiss and hold me tight against him. His words dragged across my skin as he spoke between kisses.

“Tell me later, lass. I canna promise I will remember a word ye say to me now. I canna think with ye in my arms.”

I pulled away to put some distance between us. He needed to hear me. Once he knew, it might change his feelings.

“If I doona tell ye now, I doona trust myself to ever tell ye.”

“What is it, lass? Nothing can be as bad as ye are making it seem.”

“Aye, ’tis.” I was so much more nervous to tell him this than I was at the thought of sleeping with him. “I believe it might be my fault, Jerry. I may have spelled ye here. It might have been me that pulled ye from yer home.” I couldn’t keep my voice from breaking.

“Morna.” Jerry moved to stand in front of me, gathered my hands in his own, and ushered me over to the bed where we sat at its edge.

His eyes were kind and calm. “I doona mean to offend ye, lass, but seeing as ye havena been able to find a way to see me home yet, I doona believe ye were the one who pulled me from it.”

Looking down to avoid his eyes, I spoke.

“’Twasn’t my spell, though I was a willing participant. ’Twas Grier’s.”

I heard his breath catch and didn’t dare look up to see his face.

“’Tis not possible. Grier dinna possess such knowledge. I spent a year with her while she tried to find a way to send me home. She wouldna have done that if she’d known how.”

Still gazing downward, I shook my head. “I’m not so certain, Jerry. I know that ’twas she who sent ye back in time.”

“How do ye know that, lass?”

I told him everything about my last day with Grier, taking care to describe the man I saw in the mirror so he would know it was him. When I finished, his hand cupped my chin and gently lifted my head so I would look at him.

“Why did ye tell me this?”

Of course I felt responsible. If only I had told Grier no that day, Jerry wouldn’t have been pulled so suddenly from his home. His entire life wouldn’t have been upended without his consent.

“How could I not tell ye? Jerry, I love ye. I’ve loved ye for some time now, but what if the only reason we care for one another is Grier’s spell? What if ’tis magic and not truth that binds us together?”

“Magic done through love is truth, lass. I canna begin to understand why Grier lied to me for so long—why she dinna bring me straight here if she knew this was where I was meant to be. But I do know this: Grier cast that spell on the day she left because she loved ye and she wanted ye to be loved. I doona believe she found me and spelled me to love ye. I believe she looked into yer heart and saw what was destined to be.”

He paused and moved in to kiss me. His lips were soft, slow, and gentle.

Each moment with him holding me allowed one more ounce of anxiety to melt away.

Trailing his lips toward my ear, he whispered, “I doona care how I got here, lass. I love ye. ’Tis all that truly matters.

Allow me to show ye what ’tis to be bedded by a man who loves ye. Close yer eyes.”

His lips touched my lids as I closed them.

Slowly his hands grazed the sides of my neck, his mouth trailing quickly behind them as he continued to drag his hands down my body.

The fabric of my gown was thin. As he cupped my breast, his thumb flicking the rounded tip of my nipple, I gasped and arched backward.

Eyes flickering open, I reached for his head to try and pull his mouth to mine.

He pulled away.

“I doona even have my hands on yer bare skin yet, lass. I mean to take my time with ye. If ye continue to breathe like that, I willna be able to. Close yer eyes and let all thought leave ye. Just feel my touch. Respond to it in kind.”

Smiling, I closed my eyes again and lay back on the bed, my knees and feet dangling off its side.

I gasped once more as his fingers brushed the uncovered skin of my leg.

He swept his hand up my leg with one quick touch, and my thighs opened instinctively, welcoming the sudden sensation of his fingers trailing across my center.

“I need to see ye.”

Lifting my hips, he scooted the bottom of my gown up until he could drag it underneath me. I should’ve felt exposed knowing he was about to see me naked. All I felt was anticipation.

“Look at me, lass.”

I felt his weight on top of me, and I opened my eyes to see him straddled over me, the bottom of my gown in both hands as he worked it up and behind my back. I lifted my head to allow him to pull it off me completely.

I smiled as I followed his gaze to my breasts.

I’d never seen such blatant admiration on someone’s face before.

It sent a flash of heat rushing through my body.

Even without past experience to guide me, I felt empty without him.

I wanted him inside me, claiming me. I wanted to be responsible for his pleasure.

He looked down at my breasts for a long moment. Before I could say anything, he lifted himself and went to stand at the edge of the bed.

“Sorry lass, I canna bear to have clothes on a moment more. I need to feel my skin against yer own.”

Lifting myself up to my elbows, I watched him undress. He removed his kilt with little effort. As the thick fabric fell to the floor, he removed his linen shirt. I felt my cheeks warm. It was the first time in my life I’d seen a naked man.

The definition in his muscular body surprised me. I’d always known he was strong, but feeling his strength and seeing it were two very different things.

“Ye are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

His nose scrunched up as he laughed.

“Doona call me beautiful, lass.”

I smiled and motioned for him to join me on the bed. The space between us felt too vast.

“But ye are. ’Tis the only word that comes to mind. I am in awe of ye. I want ye inside me.”

The noise that escaped his throat was one of pure guttural need. His eyes darkened, and he swallowed as he approached the bed.

“Lass, I already told ye, I mean to take my time with ye. When ye say things like that, ye make it verra difficult for me to hold on to my determination.”

I didn’t want to be bedded by someone restraining his every thought and movement. I wanted our lovemaking to be a mutually-shared moment where each of us could release everything and simply be with the other.

As he neared the bed, I sat up so I could wrap my arms around his neck.

Before he could protest or push me away, I pressed my breasts against his chest and slowly kissed his neck.

Feeling him melt against me, I unwound one hand and dragged it down the front of his body to touch his hardened manhood.

He gasped and went rigid.

“Morna, lass, please. I beg ye, remove yer hand. Lie back and let me take my time with ye.”

I continued to hold on and gently ran my hand up and down him as he buckled slightly in front of me.

“No, Jerry. I know ye mean to be kind to me, to be gentle, but ’tis not what I want. I doona wish for ye to think about how ye must be or what ye should do. I just want ye to be here with me. Do what ye will. I’ll do the same. Let us freely enjoy one another.”

My words freed him, and I happily opened myself up to him as he crushed himself against me.

Every sensation was new, every touch a discovery. The pain I felt at his entry was nothing compared to the wave of pleasure that washed over me shortly after.

Our first time was rough, fast, and clumsy.

Our second time was slow and sweet.

By the early hours of the morning, I’d lost count of the number of times we sought to discover joys in the other. Each one was perfect in its uniqueness.

My world was now so very different.

I was a woman entirely in love.