Page 63 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander
Lilith tensed up, her moans growing louder as he continued to pleasure her. Her fingers dug into the sheets as he teased her body closer and closer to the edge.
At almost the exact moment she felt like she was either about to fall off a cliff or take flight into the stars, Damon stopped, causing her to let out an uncontrollable, frustrated groan. He chuckled against her skin, clearly enjoying the way she squirmed beneath him.
“Please. Damon, please?—”
“Patience,” he warned.
Without delay, he replaced his tongue with his hand. The heel of his hand teased her nerves as one of his large fingers filled her almost completely, before another slid inside her, stretching her. He pumped his fingers into her rhythmically as his mouth found hers again. She tasted herself and only wanted more—whatever more was.
Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony as she lost herself. Lilith’s nails dug into his back, and he hissed loudly before he thrust his fingers deeper into her, setting off sparks throughout her entire body.
She wrapped one leg around his waist and used the other to grind her hips against him, egging him on with desperate kisses and moans of pleasure. She wanted more—neededmore.
She catapulted over the edge and exploded with screams of pleasure, his name on her lips. They both collapsed back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, breathing heavily as they came down from their high.
But as the reality set in around her, so did her uncertainty.
Why do I want more? What is more? Lettin’ him claim me?
She couldn’t ignore it, and it was entirely too much, too overwhelming for her. As she lay beside him, her thoughts swirled in a storm of emotions.
I cannae let him.
I cannae be here anymore.
I have to get out.
They knew the stakes in their marriage were too high, and she couldn’t risk losing herself in the process. She couldn’t risk, in any way, losing herself only for a moment and making a mistake that she’d end up regretting for the rest of her life.
“I need to go,” she said softly, rising from the bed and gathering her clothes.
Damon didn’t stop her, his expression unreadable as he watched her leave. But as she opened the door, a scream tore from her throat.
A hooded figure stood just outside the room, their shadowy form menacing in the dim light. The figure turned and fled, disappearing down the corridor as Damon leaped to his feet, his instincts kicking in immediately.
“Stay here,” he barked as he ran after the intruder.
Lilith stood frozen in the doorway, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the words painted on the wall opposite the door—Leave or die.
16
Damon’s boots pounded on the stone floor as he furiously chased the hooded figure. The torchlight caught something glinting on their person, and he strained his eyes to try and see it.
A clan kilt pin? An enemy clan?
Fury surged through his veins, each step echoing his rage. The sound of Ryder’s footsteps caught up behind him. “I heard the screams, Me Laird.”
“They’re cloaked. I think they have a kilt pin,” Damon said between pants. He was grateful for the man’s loyalty.
“The courtyard?”
“Aye, let’s split up,” Damon barked over his shoulder. “Search the south corridor. I’ll take the main stairs and corridor.”
Ryder left without another word, veering off into the shadows of the corridor.
Damon’s muscles tensed as he pushed himself faster, bursting out of the castle and into the cool night air. The figure ahead was nimble. At the very second he thought he might catch them at the banisters, the figure leaped over the bulwark and disappeared into the shadows of the courtyard
“Christ!” Damon hissed but leaped after the culprit without hesitation.
