Page 62 of Never Kiss a Scot
“How did you learn to do that, lass? The fighting, I mean?”
“Rafe taught me.”
“I see. I suppose if any of your family did, it would be him.”
“He was worried I might be taken advantage of on some balcony or garden when I first came out. I haven’t practiced the moves since I was seventeen. I was so afraid I might not do them correctly.” It was only now sinking in that she could have gotten killed along with Brock if she had failed. She was just lucky Ewan had underestimated her, and she’d been able to strike before he’d had a chance to regain his footing.
“But you did, by God, you did. I married a warrior.” He pulled her onto his lap again, burying his face in her hair.
“Why…why didn’t you fight harder?” she asked. She was almost afraid to know the reason, but she had seen him hold back so many times before in a fight, even tonight. He defended only and had not pressed the attack when he could have. She knew he was not a coward, but his actions made little sense.
Brock’s breath caught, and for a second she feared he would not answer her.
“My entire life, I lived in fear of my father’s temper. The day my mother was laid to rest, I cast dirt on her coffin, and my father spoke cruelly of her weak nature for her to die of a broken heart.” Her sweet, strong husband trembled as he spoke. “I couldna stop myself. It was as though a white haze, like early-morning fog rolling over the hills, filled my eyes. I struck out at my father, hit him so hard he fell and broke his nose. My brothers were barely able to hold me back. I was going to kill him. I wanted to feel the blood in his veins go cold on my hands.” Brock’s hands tightened slightly on her back as he held her closer to his chest.
“When I finally calmed,” Brock said, drawing in a shuddering breath, “my father was laughing at me.Laughing. He said he finally had a son worthy of him, one with the same bloodlust as he. It made me sick to hear it. I made a vow upon my mother’s grave never to harm anyone unless I had to. And tonight, when I needed to, the rage didna help. Ewan and his bloody fools were able to trap me all the same.”
Suddenly so much about Brock began to make sense. He feared his temper, feared he would hurt people, especially those he cared about. Was that why he resisted her declarations? Was he afraid to love her in case he accidentally harmed her?
She met his gaze in the dim coach, peering into eyes that now seemed so dark and endless, like the sea lit by a sliver of moonlight.
“You are not your father, Brock. You mustn’t worry about your temper. You have always done the right thing, even when it almost cost you your life. Promise me you will try to let go of your fear.”
“I’m not afraid,” he replied a little gruffly.
“Aren’t you? Afraid of being like your father? You are not the first person to face that fear. Ashton was afraid for so long that he would become like our father, so much so that he became the opposite, which was little better. But meeting your sister, loving her, changed him. It made him into a better man.”
Brock chuckled wryly. “A better man with a love for punching Scotsmen.”
“Yes, well.” She smiled. “Youdidcarry me off into the night, marry me, and deflower me.”
“All with your permission,” he reminded her, grinning like a cheeky child.
“Aye,” she teased him with a Scottish tone. “But really, Brock, you are not like your father. You areeverythinghe is not.”
“You never met him, lass. How can you say that?”
She traced his lips with a fingertip. “Because I knowyou, and you areeverythingto me.” When she kissed him this time, she let him feel every bit of her love for him pouring out of her. She wanted to learn him by heart, to feel every bit of his body and have it etched into her mind.
“I can’t believe you cut your skirts like that,” he mused, lifting her shredded bits of gown as she straddled him on the coach seat.
“Stop talking and kiss me, husband,” Joanna said, capturing his mouth with hers. He groaned as she rocked herself against him and deepened the kiss. There would be time enough for talk later. Right now she needed to show him how much he meant to her. And if she was being perfectly honest, having subdued Ewan and saved her husband had made her incredibly aroused. She didn’t know if it was right or wrong to be so, but she was going to make the most of it. She arched against him and whispered in his ear, “Make love to me,here.”
His soft answering growl vibrated through her as he lifted her hips and then reached for his trousers. She nibbled on his earlobe and neck, kissing him and teasing him. He cursed as he fumbled to free himself, and then he was pulling her down hard on his shaft. The unexpected sensation of being filled by him was glorious, if a tad uncomfortable in this position. She’d never been on top like this, but it was exciting.
“Ride me, lass. Like you were doing before.” He lifted her hips, showing her how to rock against him.
“Like this?” She circled her hips as she moved up and down on him. He nodded, his eyes dark with hunger as he watched her. There was something utterly sinful about this, riding him like a prized stud horse, in a carriage of all places, while their gazes locked. It was simply savage and hard, and she had no illusion that she was the dominant one even though she felt empowered by her victory over Ewan. Brock was in control of her, like a magician who could lure a snake from a basket. She was under his spell.
Her heartbeat throbbed in her eardrums, and she reveled in the pure, sensual experience. She cried out as pleasure blackened her vision, and she fell limp against him. But Brock was far from finished. He thrust up into her over and over, using her now for his own pleasure, and it only heightened the rippling aftereffects of her own release. He panted hard as he came and held her tightly to him. She laid her head on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart as he came down from the sweet high of their lovemaking.
Joanna felt her blood surge from her fingertips down to her toes. He brushed a thumb over her lips, sighing in contentment.
“Lassie, you will be the death of me, and what a sweet death it will be.”
She chuckled, letting go of the last bit of tension inside her. She would ask him about his father’s betrayal soon enough. But right now, she was going to fall asleep in her husband’s arms and not worry about anything else.
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