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HER WORDS UNLEASHED him.

Brodie hauled Greer into his arms, his lips slanting over hers possessively.

In return, she gasped against his mouth before winding her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

When Brodie kissed her, everything else disappeared.

She was powerful. Fearless. Indeed, she’d set fire to her life for him, and together they’d start again in a place where no one knew who they were or where they’d come from.

Their hungry kiss drew out before Greer slid her hands down his broad shoulders to his chest, and then lower to his waist. She tugged impatiently at his vest, making it clear she wanted to touch the skin beneath his clothing.

Brodie pulled back, his gaze hooded now, as he started to unlace his vest. “Aye, lass,” he growled. “Ye’ll have me naked … as long as ye take off yer clothes as well.”

Greer nodded eagerly, her fingers fumbling in haste as she reached behind her and tried to undo the laces of her surcote. Of course, she usually had Inghinn’s assistance when dressing and undressing—and so, she eventually got herself into bother.

Cursing, she glanced up, her breath hitching in her throat as her gaze rested on the naked man standing before her.

Heavens, he was magnificent: all hard, sculpted muscle and brawn. Curly dark hair, the same color as on his head, covered his broad chest before arrowing down to his groin.

Heat flooded between Greer’s thighs as she stared at his shaft. It reared up from a nest of dark curls, bone-hard and proud, its swollen tip glistening.

“Mother Mary,” she whispered.

His mouth quirked. “Would ye like some assistance, my lady?”

Greer swallowed. She was making a mess of this. He was already naked, while she still hadn’t managed to wriggle out of her surcote. “Aye, thank ye,” she replied huskily.

He stepped close, his hands deftly untying the laces at her back. He then slid the surcote down, letting it pool around her feet. Greer stepped out of it and turned around so he could unlace the bodice of her kirtle.

A moment later, she was standing in her thin ankle-length lèine. Brodie reached down and drew the garment up, pulling it over her head—leaving her completely nude. His gaze then raked over her in a purely masculine fashion that made goosebumps rise on her skin.

His gaze settled on the dirk she wore strapped to her right thigh. His dirk.

“I didn’t think ye’d actually carry the blade with ye,” he admitted, even as his eyes gleamed. It pleased him that she did.

Greer held his gaze as she undid the strap and let the scabbard drop to the floor. “Aye, well, I do,” she whispered. “Always.” She’d continued to practice with it too, in secret. Going through the drills he’d taught her had made Greer feel as if she still carried a little piece of him with her.

Brodie’s gaze darkened. Lord, his stare was so hot it felt as if she might burst into flames.

“Look at ye,” he said, his voice gravelly now. “Ye have a body made to be touched … to be loved.”

The sensual promise of those words made wetness pool between her thighs. The Virgin forgive her, she wanted to be touched by him, to learn of all the things that couples did. She wanted him to possess her body and soul.

Greer thought he might grab her then, haul her to the bed behind them, and throw her onto it. However, he didn’t. Instead, with a wicked smile, he took hold of her hand and led her over to the still-steaming bowl of water that sat waiting.

“We are both dirty from a long day’s travel,” he murmured. “It’s time to bathe.”

Excitement fluttered up within Greer at these words. She watched him wet a cloth, wring it out, and lather it on the cake of soap provided. He then stepped close and began to wash her body in long, sweeping strokes.

He started at her neck and shoulders before moving down to her swollen and tender breasts.

Her nipples ached for his touch, yet he seemed intent on his task.

Wetting and soaping the cloth again, he continued his ministrations.

Brodie was extremely thorough. He washed her everywhere , spreading her legs so that he could slide the cloth down the cleft between her buttocks and then between her thighs.

Greer bit her lower lip as the need to groan rippled through her.

She was so sensitive down there. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her?

Aye, she could tell from his smile that he did.

Finally, when he’d cleaned every part of her, including the soles of her feet, Brodie handed her the cloth. “Would ye do the same for me?”

Greer nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Need clenched low in her belly now, and she felt oddly lightheaded. All the same, she would play this delicious game. Moving to the bowl, she wet the cloth, wrung it out, and soaped it. Then she turned to Brodie and washed his chest, neck, and shoulders.

And all the while, he watched her as a hawk might watch a fieldmouse.

The intensity of his stare, and the challenge she saw in his eyes, caused a wildness to rear up inside her. He wanted to know if she’d dare bathe him as boldly as he had done her.

Greer’s mouth curved. Aye, she would. From this day forth, she would live boldly. She’d hold nothing back. Being with Brodie filled her with courage.

Continuing her task, she wet the cloth once more before sinking to her knees before him. She swept the cloth down his flat stomach before gliding it under his bollocks and then up the length of his shaft.

He was even harder and more swollen than earlier. Moisture now leaked from the crown, and she wiped it away. Glancing up, she saw that he was watching her intently, his lips now parted.

Greer’s smile widened. Aye, she was enjoying this game as much as him. Rising to her feet, she wet and soaped the cloth again and then washed the rest of him.

And when she finally straightened up, the air between them was heavy with need.

Brodie took the cloth from her and tossed it onto the washstand. He then turned her around and stepped close behind her. Suddenly, his hands were all over Greer, sliding over her aching nipples, down her abdomen, and then parting her trembling thighs.

His fingers found her then, parting her sex like the petals of a flower.

“Oh … Brodie,” she gasped.

“Aye,” he whispered, his breath feathering against her ear. “Do ye like this?”

“Oh, aye.”

His fingers began to slide and circle. “And this?”

She whimpered, arching her hips toward him, giving him her answer.

Brodie gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Ye do, don’t ye?”

He stroked her until she started to shiver against him, until pleasure vibrated through her loins and turned her weak. She leaned heavily against him now, her legs trembling. The heat and strength of his body pressed up against hers was a brand, a furnace.

She longed to turn and kiss him again, yet Brodie was in control now. She was utterly at his whim.

He shifted her away from the washstand then so that she faced the wall, while he was still behind her.

“Brace yerself there … that’s it,” he instructed as he took hold of her hips and guided her back. He then slid a leg between hers, parting her legs wide once more, exposing her to him.

A moment later, he slid a finger deep inside her.

Greer gasped, pleasure twisting tight in her womb.

“That’s right, Greer,” he whispered back. “Do ye like this too?”

He slid his finger in and out, and then the walls of her core stretched as he inserted a second finger. It was tight, and she felt a slight discomfort before pleasure flooded through her once more.

“Aye,” she whimpered, arching her back so that she pressed harder against him, so that his fingers sank deeper. “Oh, aye.”

“Ah, lass.” Brodie’s voice was hoarse now. “Ye have such a tight, hot quim. I long to bury myself to the hilt inside it.”

His wicked words made her tremble against him, heat pulsing deep inside her. At that moment, she felt she might die if he didn’t take her. “Please,” she gasped. “Now.”

His fingers slid free, and a moment later, the thick crown of his rod pressed at her entrance. And then, inch by inch, he worked his way inside her.

She was grateful he went slowly, as he was a much tighter fit than she’d expected. Maybe it was this angle, but he stretched her to the limit, almost to the point of pain.

Panting, Greer stiffened, bracing herself hard against the wall.

“Touch yerself, Greer,” he growled. “Between yer legs, as I did. Go on.”

Heat flushed over Greer at his boldness.

However, she would rise to the challenge.

Removing one hand from the wall, she slid it between her thighs as directed.

Hades, she was wet. Her thighs were slick, and the realization of just how aroused she was made a fluttering sensation ignite in her lower belly.

She’d had no idea coupling could be this delicious. It was a revelation.

As he’d instructed, she slid her fingers over the sensitive flesh between her thighs, finding the swollen nub he’d teased so expertly. And as she touched herself, a low groan escaped her. A short while later, the tight ache deep in her womb relaxed a little—and he slid home, fully sheathed.

“That’s it, mo chridhe,” Brodie crooned in her ear. “Keeping stroking yerself while I plow ye … I want to see ye come undone.”

Greer bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying out. Aye, Brodie was her undoing, and she was all too willing to be set free. She’d been waiting all her life for this moment.

He did plow her then, in long, deep strokes, while she wantonly stroked herself—and it wasn’t long until both things drove her into a frenzy. She writhed against Brodie, her hips rising to meet each plunge, her fingers working feverishly now.

“Good, lass,” he grunted as he thrust deep, gripping her hips tightly. “Ye are close now … I can feel it.”

Greer wasn’t sure what he could feel or what she was supposed to be ‘close’ to; all she knew was that something was winding tighter and tighter inside the cradle of her hips, a delicious tension that made her legs shake and sweat slick her body.

And then a wave rose and crashed over her, pleasure twisting and churning through her with such intensity that a cry tore from her throat, echoing through the chamber.

Lord help her, this was turning her inside out.

What was this?

Her hand slid from between her thighs, and she braced it against the walls once more, holding on tight as Brodie slammed into her, again and again.

And all the while, pleasure pulsed deep in her womb.

“Brodie!” she sobbed.

“Greer!” A ragged cry tore from Brodie as he thrust deep, his grip on her hips tightening, his fingertips digging into her soft flesh. An instant later, a rush of heat erupted inside her as he found his release.