Page 80 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
Once again, his mouth found hers. Connor’s tongue wove between her lips, teasing and tantalizing and driving her wild with need. She arched against him, aching to feel him, wanting the sweet pressure of his shaft against her female flesh.
“I need ye, Johanna.” His gruff rasp was akin to a plea. With a fervent nod, she urged him on, and he positioned his hips between hers. His erection pressed against her belly as she whispered sweet, wanton words against his ear.
The tip of his cock breached her sex. Inch by blissful inch, he entered her. She drew in a deep breath, relaxing, allowing him full possession.
He stilled. With a low sound deep in his throat, he kissed her again and began to move. Slow. Deliberate. Restrained. As if he didn’t want to hurt her.
“Don’t hold back, love,” she whispered. “I want you. All of you.”
His lips seared hers, his thrusts now powerful. Long, plunging strokes, embedding himself within her. His breaths came harsh against her ear. Raw. Desperate. Hungry.
And again, he swept Johanna away. She wanted him. Only him. For the rest of her life, she’d remember this night when she’d known passion and desire and love.
Love.Ah, there was the rub. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love.
No, this was supposed to be one delicious night, a sensual memory of a man she could never have.
It wasn’t supposed to be love.
But it was.
Holding Connor, canting her hips and arching her back to take him into her body, deeper and deeper, she grew mindless with her own need. Even as her body’s hunger overwhelmed her, her heart throbbed the truth with every beat.
She loved him.
Could he feel the emotion pulsing from her heart? Or did he believe her need for him to be purely physical?
“Ah, Johanna. My sweet lass,” he murmured.
His thrusts were faster now. Harder. Consumed with need. Her body went taut. She was close then. So very close.
Pleasure welled within her. So intense, it seemed akin to a pain.
A cry escaped her, and she clung to him. Waves of blinding sensation washed over her. Again and again. Dragging her far from shore. Far from safety. She held fast to those powerful shoulders. Needing him now as desperately as she’d longed for this wanton release.
Deep in his throat, he groaned a low, primal sound. He pulled away. His big, powerful body shuddered as he murmured endearments in a language she instinctively understood.
He collapsed against the bed, pure masculine contentment spreading over his features. In his arms, Johanna snuggled close. He’d carried her away to a place where she floated mindlessly, drifting to the pinnacle of her passion for him. Now, she lay at his side, her head resting against his chest, drinking in every beat of his heart.
In his arms, she’d found true joy. If only for this night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Connor woke before dawn, allowing himself a few precious moments to savor the feel of Johanna in his arms. Her warmth spread through him, filling him with a pleasurable contentment such as he’d never known. God above, he didn’t want to leave the bed, didn’t want to leave her. Damn shame he had no choice.
Dragging in a reluctant breath, he gently extricated Johanna from his embrace and rolled onto his back. He lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady cadence of her inhalations and exhalations. Satisfied that the even rhythm confirmed she enjoyed a sound sleep, he slid to the edge of the mattress and slipped from the bed.
Casting Johanna a lingering glance, he stilled. Dim rays of morning’s first light trickled around the curtain, highlighting the curve of her cheek. By thunder, she was a beauty. A man could live out his days and never tire of waking to her sweet face. Damn shame that man wouldn’t be him.
It didn’t matter that he wanted her. It didn’t matter that the way she’d looked at him after he’d loved her had unleashed a swell of happiness unlike any he’d ever experienced. God only knew he’d indulged his lust since he’d become a man. He’d had his fair share of physical pleasure. But this was different. Being with Johanna meant something more enduring and powerful than raw desire. But the damnable truth was as hard as it was simple. He never should’ve given in to his need for her. He never should’ve taken her to bed. Now, instead of sating his hunger for the lovely lass, he’d only whetted his appetite for more.
Bluidy hell, he had a job to do. If he had a brain in his head, he would’ve kept his focus on the mission. Caring about Johanna would not work to his advantage. If anything, giving a damn about her would only compromise his ability to do whatever it took to protect her and the blasted stone.
He snatched up his clothing and pulled them on. After tugging on his boots, he walked soundlessly to the door, careful not to disturb Johanna’s slumber. He didn’t need her asking questions. Not now. She damn well wouldn’t like the answers.
Gaslight illuminated the crack beneath the door of the room Gerard occupied. The weathered panel creaked on its hinges as it opened no more than a hand’s breadth. His gaze dropped to the pistol in his brother’s hand. With a nod, Gerard relaxed his posture and motioned him inside.
Closing and locking the door behind him, Connor silently entered the chamber. He was not looking forward to this meeting. Knowing Gerard as he did, his brother was unlikely to readily accept Connor’s command of the mission. There were still logistics to be worked out. And his brother wasn’t going to be the one to make the final decisions.
