Page 92 of Taken By the Ruthless Highlander
Her body felt as if it was made for his. Pulling in a long, deep breath, he prayed the moment would last. How he wished he could freeze time.
“I might have done it with ye again.”
“Are ye sayin’ ye like it better on yer back or yer hands and knees? Because both suit me just fine.” Ryder smirked.
“Aye, I’m sure ye do,” Morgana said, her lips brushing against his ribs as her hot breath caressed his skin. Goosebumps rose over his flesh, making him shiver. “What was that all about?”
“Dinnae touch me there,” Ryder warned, hoping he didn’t sound too harsh. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the moment. “It tickles.”
“Laird McKenzie is ticklish? Now, that is something I never would have thought,” Morgana teased, purposefully raking her nails over his skin.
Ryder clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the sensation wreaking havoc on the left side of his body.
“And here?”
“Stop—” He burst into laughter.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard that tears spilled over.
“Well, since ye asked so nicely,” Morgana murmured, pulling her hand away from his ribs.
With the torture finally over, Ryder was able to catch his breath. He pulled in long, deep lungfuls of air, trying to slow his pounding heart. He glanced at Morgana and flashed her a smile as she nuzzled him.
“Please, dinnae do that again,” he said.
He curled his thick arm around her, holding her closer.
“I didnae ken ye were so sensitive.” Morgana batted her eyelashes at him.
Ryder smirked as he watched her stretch her limbs. She was such an exquisite thing.
“Aye, well, I wouldnae go around makin’ the announcement. Nay one would believe ye,” he teased.
Morgana nestled into the crook of his arm, sleep overcoming her.
“Are ye tired?”
“A wee bit,” she answered, her eyes growing heavy.
It was but a moment and slumber had pulled her under.
Ryder’s heart swelled as he stared at the woman at his side. She was far more than anything he had expected or could have dreamed of.
Happiness washed over him like a flash flood through the canyon as the darkness swallowed him whole.
“I thought we had agreed. And ye go and do this?” his father’s voice boomed through the shadow and mist.
With each step, his chest grew tighter. Ryder knew where he was going—his mother’s chambers. And he knew exactly what he was about to walk in on. Yet nothing he did slowed his steps.
“Gregory, please,” his mother wailed as he poked his head around the door.
His mother’s eye was swollen shut, and her lip was busted. Tears mingled with the blood as he darted inside to take the next blow from his father and spare his mother. The force knocked him to the ground.
No matter how many times he had this dream, he was never strong enough to fight back.
“Ye’re a whore, and I’ll nae claim that child as my own!” his father shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at his mother.
Ryder’s eyes flew open. The stillness of his chambers surrounded him as he glanced down to find Morgana sleeping next to him. The dream lingered like a bad taste on his tongue.
