Page 30 of The Highlander’s Illicit Bride (Wicked Highland Lairds #1)

I solde spun around, her face twisted with both fear and fury.

Struan raised his hands, palms facing her, showing her he was not a threat.

Although the relief that washed through her was profound, so too was the frustration at being caught.

She glared at him for a moment and through the thousand questions that were racing around in her mind, one stood out: how did he know where to find her?

“Were ye followin’ me?” she asked.

“Of course I was.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a feelin’ ye’d be tryin’ tae sneak out tonight,” he said. “I’d hoped I was wrong. I didnae want tae believe ye’d leave in the middle of the bleedin’ night. That ye’d go without say so much as goodbye.”

The guilt that washed over Isolde was thick and deep.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Like she was drowning.

That was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid.

Why she had left that note in his study…

and why she had wanted to just slip away.

She’d wanted to avoid the confrontation.

And most of all, she’d wanted to avoid the way he was looking at her right now.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quavering. “I just… I thought it’d be fer the best. I thought it’d be easier fer everybody.”

“Easier fer everybody?” he asked, his tone hard. “Or easier fer ye?”

Isolde’s heart stuttered in her chest, and she frowned deeply as the truth of his words hit home. She had been telling herself that slipping away in the middle of the night would have been easier for everybody, but Struan was right. She was simply trying to make it easier for herself.

“Is it because ye dinnae want tae marry me? Is that why ye are runnin’ like this?”

She shook her head.

“’Tis because I want tae be with ye, actually,” she said softly.

“I dinnae understand.”

She stiffened her spine and stood up straighter.

“I cannnae marry ye, even though I want tae… ‘Tis all that I’d want, truly. But believe me when I tell ye that if me faither finds out ye’ve married me without his consent, the fury he’d unleash on yer clan would be unlike anythin’ ye could have expected.

Or planned fer. Especially now with Dougal at his side.

I cannae let them rain down hell upon ye. ”

Struan fell silent for a moment, lowering his gaze to the ground beneath his feet, seeming to be considering her words.

His face clouded over, and he frowned. Isolde could see him thinking, weighing her words against his own thoughts.

The silence between them stretched on and the air between them crackled with tension.

He finally raised his head and stared deeply into her eyes and Isolde’s heart fell. Instead of acceptance, as she’d been hoping, she saw determination glinting in his eyes. She knew he would not let this go. Not without a fight.

“Struan—”

He stepped closer to her, cutting off her words. His large frame loomed over her and his dark gray eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched.

“Isolde, if I killed yer faither, would it change the way ye care about me?” he said. “Dae ye think ye’d come tae resent me? Even hate me fer it?”

That was the last question she’d expected him to ask, and Isolde turned away, running a hand over her face as she considered her answer. After several long, agonizing moments in silence, she shook her head.

“Nay. I wouldnae think differently of ye. I’d nae resent ye,” she said. “And I could never hate ye, Struan.”

“Nay?”

She shook her head. “The truth is, if ye were tae kill me faither, I…” Isolde felt ashamed of her realization, but she wanted to tell Struan the truth.

“Honestly, I’d feel relief,” she admitted.

“If he was dead, I’d nae have tae worry about him catchin’ up tae me again.

I’d never have tae fear bein’ forced intae the life he wanted me tae live.

I’d be… free. Fer the first time in me life, I’d be truly free.

So, nay. I’d nae resent ye. And me feelin’s fer ye wouldnae change. ”

Struan was silent for a moment, absorbing her words. He almost looked as if he’d been expecting her to answer in the opposite. But then he raised his head and she saw that glint of determination in his eyes once more.

“Stay,” he said simply.

“Struan—”

“Stay with me,” he said.

“I cannae. Ye ken I cannae.”

He stepped forward, trapping her between the stone wall behind her and his body.

His eyes burned into hers and when he leaned down and kissed her, it stole the breath from her lungs.

Her head spun and her legs trembled. Isolde leaned into him, savoring the warmth of his mouth and the soft, velvety feel of his tongue swirling around hers.

Isolde put her hands on his chest and reluctantly pushed him back.

The feel of his mouth on hers sent bolts of lightning sparking through her veins and made her head swim.

It kept her from thinking clearly. She wanted more but knew she could not because with every thrust of his tongue into her mouth, Isolde felt her resolve weakening that much more.

“Marry me. Stay by me side.”

“Struan—” she said.

Her voice quavered and sounded weak in her ears. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t hold back the tide of emotion and desire coursing through her. Isolde gripped the front of his tunic and leaned into him, seeking out his mouth, then kissing him with every bit of passion in her soul.

Struan scooped her up and carried her down the hall to his chamber.

Once there, he leaned down and kissed her again, lashing her tongue with his as he carried her to a pile of thick furs spread out before the fireplace.

The fire inside it was burning bright, casting flickering shadows around the room while filling it with warmth.

He gently laid her down on the furs and stared down at her for a moment.

Isolde’s heart thundered in her chest and her body quivered from head to toe.

The firelight glittered in his stormy gray eyes and the fire burning inside of her burned higher and hotter than the flames that licked the stone sides of the fireplace.

“I dinnae want ye tae leave,” he whispered. “I want ye tae stay with me. I want ye , Isolde.”

Coherent thoughts fled from Isolde’s mind.

Instead of saying anything, she slid her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her.

Their mouths crashed together, and he slipped his tongue past her teeth, sliding around hers.

She shook as his large, strong hands roamed her body, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Lost in the moment and fueled only by her desire, Isolde pulled his tunic up and tugged on it.

Struan rose to his knees and pulled it off, then tossed it across the room.

As he did, she fumbled with the laces on his breeches with clumsy fingers.

As she worked on those, Struan loosened the laces on her bodice and when he had them undone, he reached down and slid his hands up her legs, pushing her dress up along with it.

“Are ye sure ye want this Isolde? Because I cannae promise ye I can hold mesel’ any longer.”

Isolde didn’t answer. Instead, she sat up and let him pull her dress over her head.

It joined his tunic on the floor across the room.

Once he had her naked, he laid her back down and quickly pulled his breeches off, the light of the fire flickering across this taut, corded muscles, Isolde admired his form.

He truly did look like he had been carved from stone and shaped like a Greek god of old.

Struan sank to his knees beside her, his eyes sliding up and down her body with a touch as light as the fingertips he trailed along her thighs and flat, taut belly. He drank her in, the light of desire in his eyes shining brighter than the fire.

“Me God, ye are exquisite,” he whispered. “Ye are sheer perfection.”

Isolde’s cheeks flared with heat and when she moved to cover herself reflexively, he caught her hands and pushed them aside, taking several long moments to simply admire her.

She felt exposed beneath his gaze. Vulnerable.

No man had ever seen her naked before, but something about the way his gaze traveled across her body stoked the flames of her own desire.

The heat and desire she saw in his eyes set her heart racing. And somehow, inexplicably, it began to strip away the layers of self-consciousness that gripped her.

Struan laid down beside her and Isolde turned on her side to face him.

She shuddered as he traced the tips of his fingers along her side.

And when he leaned forward and kissed her mouth, Isolde’s body exploded with sensation.

He pulled her to him as their kiss deepened and she felt his long, rigid staff pressed to her belly.

Desire and lust flowed through her veins, along with a healthy dose of fear.

She’d never been with a man, and it scared her as much as it excited her.

Struan rolled her onto her back and slipped his hand between her thighs.

He slid his tongue along her neck, then grazed her collarbone with his teeth, drawing a soft moan from her mouth.

His fingers slipped gently along her wet, swollen entrance then teased her button.

Isolde tensed and she felt herself growing hotter and wetter, the desire swelling within her like a tide.

With his eyes still fixed on hers, Struan slipped two fingers into her. She was so wet and as he slowly moved his fingers within her, rubbing her nub with his thumb, Isolde’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she moaned.

She gave herself over to the sensations that gripped her. Reveled in the way his fingers felt pumping deeper into her. She gasped and sputtered, caught and held fast in his gaze, which remained locked onto hers.

“I want ye,” he said, his voice low and husky.

He withdrew his fingers from her and they glistened her wetness in the firelight. He slipped them into his mouth and moaned with pleasure as he tasted her. Isolde gasped and felt herself grow wetter than she ever thought she could be.

“I want ye too,” she said and parted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he climbed on top of her. Their gazes locked together as tightly as their bodies, and Struan nestled the head of his staff between her velvety folds.

“Are ye sure, Isolde? There is nay turning back once this happens. Ye’ll be mine and I willnae let ye go.”

She nodded with anticipation. “Please, Struan, please…”

With a slow, seductive grin on his lips, he rolled his hips and pierced her core.

Isolde gasped, the breath fleeing her lungs as quickly as coherence fled her mind.

The pinch of pain was intense and he paused for a second, kissing her hands, her neck, her lips.

A few moments later he began moving again and as he slipped into her dripping heat, the discomfort faded, soon replaced by a rush of pleasure that was just as powerful.

And as her body grew accustomed to having him so deep in her sex, filling her up so completely, a shaky smile spread across her face.

“Ye feel so good,” he breathed and kissed her.

Struan began to slide his length along her slippery inner walls, driving himself deep into her.

He moved slowly at first, each thrust of his hips igniting sparks inside of her.

Isolde squeezed her eyes shut and bit her bottom lip.

She grabbed hold of his arms, her nails digging into his skin as a powerful feeling of ecstasy washed over her.

“Please”, she gasped. “I want more.”

Isolde opened her eyes and stared at Struan, who hovered over her.

His face was red, and his jaw was clenched.

The veins on either side of his neck stood out as he drove himself into her, his rhythm picking up speed and power.

His staff was thick and stretched her open and she bounced beneath him as he pounded himself into her.

Their bodies moved in a sinuous rhythm, their moans blending into a chorus of passion that echoed around the room.

Isolde locked her ankles together behind his back and thrust her hips upward, desperate to have him as deep inside her sex as he could be.

She had never felt so connected to anybody before.

Nor had she ever felt the kind of pleasure that flowed through her like a powerful river.

He filled her with a bliss she didn’t know existed.

Struan kissed her neck and grazed her earlobe with his teeth as he plunged his rigid length deeper than ever.

Isolde’s eyes widened and she cried out.

Her entire body grew taut and lightning crackled along her skin.

A long, shaky moan burst from her mouth, and she suddenly felt weightless as she shook wildly beneath him.

She was wrapped in ecstasy and her body grew warm as she climaxed.

She pulled him down into another kiss and he swallowed her whimpering as she rode out the currents of bliss that pulled her along.

Her climax slowly started to ebb when Struan groaned, low and deep. She felt his muscles stiffen and felt him swelling inside of her, making her tighten even more around his shaft.

“Bleedin’ hell,” he said through gritted teeth.

The words had barely cleared his lips when she felt his staff twitch and a moment later, he erupted.

She felt him throbbing and pulsing as he emptied himself into her.

They clung together, enveloped in a thick, warm bubble of pleasure and bliss and for a long moment, the only sound in the chamber was the crackle and pop of the fire.

Struan stared down at her, holding her gaze as he slipped out of her.

He rolled off Isolde and flopped onto his back, pulling her closer to him.

She laid her head on his bare chest, biting her bottom lip, unable to keep the smile from her lips and the lightness from her heart, she traced circles on his flat, rippled belly with the tip of her finger.

She had never thought she’d feel so good. Had never thought giving herself to somebody would be so… beautiful. And she had never dared imagine that being with a man could make her feel lighter than air. And yet, Struan had made her feel all that and so much more.

“I love ye, Isolde. And there is nay force in this world that can take me away from ye.”

Struan ran his fingers through her hair as she nestled against him. Isolde placed a soft kiss on his chest and felt her heart beating wildly.

“I love ye too, Struan,” Isolde answered, her decision made.

And I will never dae anything stupid again that could separate us.