Page 28 of Love Me Forever (Highland Duo #2)

R oyce had them both undressed in mere minutes, and it was with tender hands that he caressed her body. It was a soft and lazy touch that titillated and thrilled and caused her to completely lose her senses.

There was not a spot of flesh he did not touch. He ran the pads of his fingers over every inch of her with a delicate touch that drove her wild. Her body responded, moving against him like a woman hungry to quench her thirst.

She did not think, and she did not care for anything except the two of them and what they shared. He touched her with an intimacy she had not known existed and now that she did, she wondered how she could ever function normally again.

His hands heated her flesh until she thought she would go mad for the want of him. She hugged his muscled arms and then pushed at them as if denying her own desires, though it did little good for it only made him respond more ardently.

“What are you doing to me?” she asked with labored breath.

He whispered his response with a nibble to her neck. “I am making love to you.”

She wanted to rejoice, for she had not thought she would ever know the joys of love.

He suckled at her breasts until she thought she would lose her wits, and when his hands moved to intimately caress her, she cried out with the want of him.

It was a fast and furious coupling, as though they could not get enough of each other, as though this was their last time together, as though they were saying good-bye, and Brianna climaxed with tears.

“It is not over between you and me,” Royce said, kissing her tears away.

“I cannot give you a child.” Her voice was full of regret.

He lay beside her, his hand moving to splay over her flat stomach. “I have no doubt that my child nestles within you.”

Her tears spilled freely and she did not care, for she hoped with all her heart that he spoke the truth. Unfortunately, she knew otherwise, and therefore the tears refused to stop.

He kissed them away as he had done before. “We will wed upon my return.”

He was so sure, but then here she was, lying in his arms after having made love with him. What did she expect him to think?

“We will wed,” he reaffirmed adamantly.

“If it were that easy.”

“It is. Accept it so that we may begin our life together.”

He brushed her cheek with his. “A very long life.”

She thought to protest, but it would do little good. He thought himself right, and there would be no changing his mind. Time would tell, and then she would have a decision to make.

Wed him or let him go.

She continued to struggle with the fact that he had not told her the truth.

But if truth were told, he had simply avoided the truth.

He had not lied to her. She had assumed him a simple warrior with no particular clan ties.

She had been the foolish one, though he had not treated her like a fool.

He had encouraged her and had given her choices.

“You are silent. What troubles you?” he asked, hugging her against him.

‘Too many things to speak of.”

“Too many things you are unwilling to speak of.”

“Can I not have a private thought from you?” she asked.

“There is no need for private thoughts between us. We are one, you and I, and can discuss whatever is on our minds.”

“Good,” she said with a challenge. ‘Tell me of the battle that left you scarred.”

Her question was one more of trust. Would he share with her his pain as she had done?

His hesitation was brief and he took a deep breath as though he needed confidence to relate the tale. “It was a battle that should not have been fought. The deaths were senseless, the suffering just as senseless, and all because of greed and power.”

He sounded tired to her, not physically but emotionally, and she listened, knowing he needed to heal within, as she had once needed to do.

“My father had given his word many years ago, and I was compelled to honor it. I had no choice, though I attempted to convince the laird of this clan otherwise. He was a man full of rage and would not listen to reason.”

He stroked her arm, needing to feel her soft flesh as he spoke. “I knew many would die, but I also knew that more would die if I did not fight alongside him. It was horrendous.”

He grew silent and she knew he was reliving the battle.

“Time stops on the battlefield. Pain is not felt and the smell of blood is a stimulant that keeps you going. With weapon in hand you fight until you die or remain standing until there is no more left to kill.”

Her heart grew heavy listening to him.

“In the thick of battle you fight without thought or reason.”

He turned silent and she could sense that his thoughts troubled him, that the pain of this battle went much deeper than he would admit to himself. She waited, knowing he would continue. He needed to continue.

“I fight alongside my men. I do not expect from them what I would not expect from myself. Too much was expected of my men and for what? I could no longer watch my men die senseless deaths. I challenged the laird of the opposing clan so that the bloody battle could end.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “You could have died.”

“Death waits for us all. It is life that matters. If we do not live it truthfully and with honor to ourselves and to others, then we never truly live. In truth I did not wish to see any more of my men die.”

“You would have given your life for them?” The thought of him dying rushed tears to her eyes.

“My life was not in question; my honor and actions were.” She did not know if she wished to hear more and yet part of her wished to hear it all. “And this challenge is what caused your scars?”

“Aye, every one of them.”

“This man you fought left you with these scars?”

He waited as if weighing his response. “Nay, he did not.”

She looked at him, confused. “Then who? Who did this to you?”

“His men attacked me before I was to meet with him.”

“You were alone? Was there no one to help you?” Her heart beat wildly at the thought that he was one against many.

“Not one. I stood alone.”

She understood now why he was a legend. He was fearless and relentless in battle, and he stood standing no matter how many fell around him. “You were victorious.”

“Aye, though I suffered many blows.”

“But you remained standing.”

His pride surfaced. “Always.”

“And the man you were to fight?”

“I fought him.”

“Wounded as you were?” she asked, thinking that he could not have been able to see out of his injured eye and must have bled profusely from his lip and the wound to his face. How did he ever fight?

“It was necessary.”

“The battle ended,” she said, knowing full well he had taken the man’s life.

“Aye, it ended and we buried our dead and returned home.”

“You did not.”

“This battle left more than the scars on my face.”

“It scarred your soul,” she said with a gentle hand to his face.

He kissed her palm. “That is why I sought solitude—to make sense of it all.”

She felt guilty. “And my presence did not allow you that.”

He placed her hand to his cheek. “Your presence healed my soul.”

His words touched her heart and her tears spilled freely.

“I thank God for the day you entered my life.”

Words failed her; actions did not. She moved to cover his body with hers, stretching out along the length of him.

“Do you know what you do?”

“Nay,” she said with a smile, “but I will learn.”

His smile was wide. “I will help you.”

She shook her head. “Nay, this is for me to do.” She pushed at his arms so he was forced to rest them above his head, and then she kissed him starting on his forehead.

He shivered, for he knew full well her intentions, and he did not think himself capable of letting her completely have her way with him, but he would try. Try hard, for it was her wish to do so.

She kissed almost every inch of his face and moved slowly to his neck, where she licked and nibbled, enjoying the delicious taste of him. She took her time exploring his flesh, for every inch of him tempted her tongue and she could not pass up a single morsel.

She was branding him for sure, for he felt on fire.

The heat ran through him, rushing his blood, causing his heart to beat wildly, firing his loins until he wanted nothing more than to grab her, shove her beneath him, and drive into her with an urgency that frightened him.

And if she continued feeding on him with a lazy slowness, he would surely lose control.

“Brianna.” His heavy breath whispered her name in warning.

She paid no heed to him, lost in the pleasure of her passion. She moved down to his chest, her mouth instantly seeking his nipples, and she feasted, her soft mewling sounds driving him to the edge of insanity.

He grew hard—so hard that he hurt with a relentless ache, and he attempted to warn her once again. “Brianna.”

She heard nothing but her own soft moans, and they heated her own passion. She continued her pursuit of pleasure, moving farther down him.

It was a slow descent with her hot mouth scorching his flesh. His moans surprised him, for it was he who had always caused his partner to moan in pleasure. And she did bring him pleasure, intense pleasure.

She purred and moaned and slipped slowly down along him, her mouth following, and when she descended over him for that first taste, he knew he would be lost if he did not take control.

He reached down, grabbed her around her waist, and turned her so that she lay solidly beneath him. “I can stand it no more, I must be inside you.”

He gave her no time to respond, but entered her with an urgency that had her crying out in pleasure, and he rode her hard and fast, she responding with her own urgent need.

She cried out in pleasure and clung firmly to his muscled arms. It seemed that neither of them wished it to end.

They held firm to their control, fighting the sensation that continued to rush at them, that continued to beg for release.

Brianna surrendered first, his name an urgent cry on her lips. “Royce.”

He needed to hear no more. He surrendered along with her, and they climaxed as they had coupled, fast and furious.

They slept soon after, tired and content, a silent prayer on Brianna’s lips asking for a miracle.