Page 36

Standing before him, Davina raised on her tiptoes and pressed her body against his, the fullness of her breasts molded to his chest, her skin glowing like moonlight.

Broderick reveled in the heat of her, the soft, silken texture of her skin beneath his hands. Her breathing was light and shallow, her lips parted as her sapphire eyes gazed into his with a need that mirrored his own.

“Davina.” His voice, a hoarse whisper.

She sighed, her breath quivering.

Her hands roamed his body, her touch setting him aflame.

Every nerve, every sense was heightened to a near-painful intensity.

The scent of her—rose oil, honey, and something uniquely her —filled his lungs, making him drunk with desire.

Her hair, loose and tumbling down her back, slipped through his fingers like water.

He kissed her, hard and deep, his tongue tangling with hers as he poured every ounce of his frustration, his longing, and his anger into the connection. Why could he not get enough of this woman?

With a growl, he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands cupped her ass, his fingers slipping into the cleft between her thighs.

As he carried her to the bed, the head of his cock teased the tight entrance of her ass moist from the juices of her cunny.

He groaned, letting the length of his cock slide against her wet slit, stroking the puckered hole of her ass.

Davina squirmed in his arms, pumping her hips against the rock-solid shaft, whimpering in his ear.

The world around him faded into nothingness.

There was only her.

He laid her down, his hands trembling as they traced her curves.

The swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist—she was perfection incarnate.

He rubbed his thumb over her clit, and she tossed her head to the side with a husky groan and rotated her hips, opening her moist petals to take his thumb into her.

His lips curled into a sly grin as he pulled his hand back.

She whimpered in protest, but gasped when he bent forward and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Fuck , this woman was intoxicating! He nibbled an eager path down her body, savoring every inch of her, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her pant.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging, as her back arched beneath him, silently begging him to lick her. She writhed and called his name, breathless and wanting, and it drove him to the brink of madness.

He nestled his face into the soft, fragrant curls between her legs, inhaling the intoxicating blend of her natural scent that enveloped him in a warm, inviting embrace.

Broderick dragged his tongue along her slit, and she moaned.

He speared her cunny with his tongue, driving it inside her until his mouth covered her soaking wet quim, in and out, up and down, swirling around the sensitive bud.

Her thighs tightened against his cheeks as Davina rolled her hips against his face, calling his name over and over again until she shuddered through a rolling climax where he lapped up her juices.

Before she could catch her breath, he stood and eased his shaft inside, watching her face as her lips parted on a silent cry.

She was tight, hot, and utterly consuming.

He dropped his head back and growled, a rumbling vibration that tore through his throat.

He rolled his hips, burying himself to the hilt, then slowly pulled out, leaving his swollen head inside her wet, pink lips.

Another slow and deliberate thrust, he moved within her, his pace gradually building as her channel squeezed his cock until he was blind with pleasure, the tension between them becoming unbearable.

The rhythm quickened, his balls slapping against her ass as he held her thighs, her moans coaxing him to drive harder, deeper, fucking her the way he had been aching to do since that first night she left him.

Their bodies moving together in perfect, frenzied harmony.

His grunts and her whimpering moans filled the air, soft gasps, and pleading.

His name on her lips was a prayer, a plea, and it sent shudders down his legs and threatened to buckle his knees.

He gripped her hips, pulling her harder against him as his control slipped further away. She was his, entirely his, and he was going to make sure she knew it.

Davina arched her back, fisting the covers of the bed, pleading for him to never stop.

Her body tightened around him as she cried out his name, which pulled him over the edge with her.

He staggered under the force of his orgasm as his bullocks pulled tight and he shuddered his release.

He scooted her further onto the bed and collapsed against her, their bodies tangled, their breathing ragged.

For a moment, they lay together in the dreamlike haze, her fingers trailing lazily over his chest as he held her close, their bodies molding against each other.

The caress of her fingertip over his abdomen lengthened his semi-hard shaft into a full erection again.

She grinned, seeing his response to her.

She reached down and cupped his balls and Broderick grunted.

“Och, now, woman.” He was ready to take her again, just as fierce, just as consuming.

He still wanted her, still needed her, and the realization hit like a punch to the chest.

He couldn’t purge her from his soul.

Before he could make sense of this, another presence entered the room.

“Davina,” a voice called softly, warm and inviting.

Broderick’s head snapped up, his body tensing. A man stood at the doorway of the room, his golden-brown hair gleaming as his pale green eyes fixed on the woman lying beside Broderick.

Whoever the bastard was, he was handsome—too handsome—and the smile curving his lips was far too familiar.

Davina stirred in Broderick’s arms, her gaze shifting to the stranger. She smiled, her expression soft and welcoming.

“Davina,” Broderick growled, pulling her closer.

But she slipped from his grasp, rising from the bed and sauntering toward the man, her naked body glowing with the blush of their lovemaking.

The stranger reached for her, his hands sliding over her curves with a possessive ease that made Broderick’s blood boil. One hand palmed her ass, the other kneaded her breast as he kissed her—open-mouthed, deep, and shameless.

Red-hot fury erupted within Broderick. A feral growl tore from his throat as he launched himself at the man, tackling him to the ground. His teeth sank into the stranger’s throat, the sweet taste of blood filling his mouth as he ripped it out savagely.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Broderick awoke with a start, his body slick with sweat, teeth clenched, arousal throbbing with maddening insistence. The dream lingered, vivid and taunting, as jealousy and rage coursed through him like venom.

“What the hell is it with this woman?” he snarled, throwing the furs aside and he shot to his feet in the cave. His jaw tightened as the image of Davina in another man’s arms seared through his mind.

He dressed quickly, his movements jerky, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

He nestled his sword against his hip for a small measure of comfort.

The walls around his heart surged back into place—higher, thicker, impenetrable.

He would not let her get under his skin.

She was supposed to be a means to an end—someone he’d bed, purge from his system, and forget.

“Finish this,” he muttered. “Get rid of the suitor, take yer payment, and move on.” Yet, as the words left his mouth, they felt empty.

He secured the top of his hair with a leather tie at the back of his head and dashed from the cave.

The Traveller camp was alive with motion. Villagers and Romani mingled in the clearing, laughter and bartering rising above the low hum of music and footfalls. Broderick stormed through, his long strides swallowing the distance to the caravan, his scowl darkening with every step.

“Broderick,” Veronique purred, stepping out of the fortune-telling tent. Her blouse hung loose, the neckline scandalously low as she slinked toward him.

His glare was a thundercloud. “Get into the vardo. Put some clothes on. Now.”

She huffed, jerking her blouse higher across her shoulders, and stomped up the steps, slamming the caravan door behind her.

He didn’t spare her another glance.

Amice sat by the fire, calm as ever, her keen eyes tracking him with quiet knowing.

“Why do ye let her dress like that?” he snapped.

Amice snorted. “You speak as if she actually listens to me.” She shook her head, poking at the fire with slow, deliberate strokes.

Broderick crossed his arms, jaw tight. “What?”

“You cannot hide from it, mon fils ” she said low and unflinching.

He narrowed his eyes. “From what?”

Amice lifted her gaze to meet his. “What you are feeling for Davina, my son,” she replied in French. “She is your soul mate. You are fighting your destiny.”

His growl was low and dangerous. “I dinnae believe in destiny.”

“I know, but it is there all the same.” Amice stood and approached him, laying a warm hand on his forearm. “I have seen it, Broderick. In the cards, the tea leaves, my dreams. Your souls have been joined for millennia. Why do you fight it? ”

There was no use arguing with the old woman and her superstitious beliefs. But it didn’t mean he was going to relinquish his glares.

“You are hers, son, and she is yours,” she countered.

He leaned over her, his voice cold. “I willnae put myself in the same position Evangeline put me in. That is the end of it.”

Amice sighed, shaking her head, and shuffled back to her stool by the campfire.

“This woman is nothing but a passionate distraction. Once I’m done helping her with this suitor business, I’ll get my payment out of her an’ move on, once an’ for all.”

Amice poked at the fire.

Broderick glowered. “Do ye need anything before I go?”