Page 13 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“There’s a good lass,” he said, and then kissed her hungrily. She welcomed his mouth on hers, and this sense that he was just as out of control as she was. This thing that burned between them was so much bigger than either of them.
She whimpered again when Tyburn moved inside her, but this time with stunned pleasure rather than pain. He kissed her a moment longer, then lifted his head and captured her wrists, pinning them on either side of her head. She was helpless, but rather than feeling afraid she was thrilled. He held her, grounded her when she would have flown away and been lost.
“Ye’re mine, my bonnie fire drake, ye ken?” he growled softly against her lips.
Yes—he owned her very soul in that moment.
Diana wasn’t ready for what came next as Tyburn began to drive himself into her. She lost herself in his blue gaze that cut clear to her soul. They became one beating heart, one breath, one burning fire as he thrust into her over and over. They were an unstoppable inferno, their shared desire an intense conflagration.
A delicious madness carried the old Diana off into the night, leaving behind a changeling creature she did not recognize. His grip on her wrists eased, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he surged deeper, his hips hammering so hard against her the bed creaked violently beneath them. It was animalistic, primal, an ancient rhythm that defied the dictates of polite society, and she wanted to laugh with the sheer joy of defying the rules that had curled such weighty anchors around her. She was breaking free, running deep into the lovely, dark woods where no one would follow, no one but this beautiful stranger.
His lips were moving, and it took a moment to realize he was whispering the wordmineover and over as he gazed down at her.
She lifted her face and breathed the wordmineback at him, which made his eyes glow like a warm lake reflecting the noonday light in brilliant flashes.
“Aye, lass, yours,” he agreed roughly. “Always.”
No man had or ever would own her like this man owned her now. There would only ever be this stranger for her, in this moment, and in their memories forever afterward. She would never be truly alone. Tyburn would always be out there somewhere, dreaming of her as he removed his mask and laid his head upon his pillow each night. As if that realization was all she needed, the building pleasure shot even higher and she came apart, her mind blanking as her body bowed beneath him and she cried out.
He pounded into her even harder until he shouted hoarsely with his own release. His hips jerked reflexively, and Diana caught a flash of vulnerability in those cunning blue eyes. For a brief instant, the walls of Tyburn’s inner castle fell and she saw him,justhim. It did not matter that he still wore a mask. She saw what she needed to see, a glimpse of the man he truly was. It was burned forever in her memory.
He rocked his hips slowly now in and out of the cradle of her thighs, and she felt the surge of a new softer heat begin. She clenched her legs tight around his hips, wanting to hold him within her forever. Diana didn’t want to lose that connection, and it seemed neither did he.
He feathered his lips over her cheeks, and she realized he was kissing away her tears as they streamed down her face. She was crying, but she couldn’t say why. She wasn’t in pain, but she felt cut open, raw down to the bone, as if he held her beating heart in his hands. No one had ever had that much power over her. It was terrifying and thrilling.
“Did I hurt ye, lass?” he asked after a moment. “Sometimes ’tis best not to be gentle the first time a man enters a woman. Better to break through the maidenhead quickly than too slowly.”
She shook her head. “It was uncomfortable, but only for a few moments,” she admitted.
“Stay still,” he warned as he gently pulled himself out of her. She winced at the soreness in her sex and then ached more with the loss of him.
He pulled the covers back from the bed, then lifted her up and settled her in the center. He removed the rest of his clothing. Once he was completely naked, he crawled into the bed beside her and blew out the candle. He still wore the mask, and it was almost impossible to see him in the darkness. He pulled her weary, sated body against his own, clutching her to him as if he feared she would vanish in the middle of the night. One of his hands gently cupped a breast, and the feeling was strangely comforting.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay in his arms, the comfort of the warm bed and the darkness wrapped around them while the rain tapped on the windows and roof of the lodge. Diana thought of nothing but the drifting peace of being skin to skin with this enigmatic highwayman. A man who had given her a gift rather than stolen one from her. And it was something she would hold on to as long as she could.
“Tomorrow morning, I shall escort ye to within walking distance of where ye were traveling to. I trust ’tis not far from where we stopped the coach?”
Her heart shuddered against her ribs at the thought of leaving. But she couldn’t avoid the discussion.
“It’s not more than three miles,” she guessed.
“Use my arm as a pillow, if ye wish.” He held out an arm, and she nestled her head against his biceps.
How strange that she would sleep so close to a complete stranger, and a brigand at that. She had let Tyburn take what she’d never planned to give anyone. A proper lady would’ve never done that, and if she had been that kind of lady, she would be filled with regret and shame. But Diana was so weary of thetoll that society had placed upon her that she no longer cared what they thought.
All she cared about was her home and the servants who had been loyal to her and stayed to make a go of whatever they could with her.
Every offer of marriage she’d had in the last year had come from men who’d sought only her lands and money because they believed she was an heiress, which in a way she was. She’d turned down each, but she feared that someday she would face the choice between a loveless marriage or losing her home and the family she’d worked so hard to keep.
Why did men never suffer such impossible situations? Her father would have reminded her that life was not fair, but shouldn’t people want to fight to make it more fair? What was the point of anything, if one did not fight for fairness in the world?
Tyburn, seeming aware of her restless thoughts, made a soft shushing sound and pressed his lips to her forehead. His other arm draped around her waist, holding her.
“Whatever ye are thinking about, ye can think on it tomorrow. Tonight, my little fire drake, ye have conquered me. Ye should enjoy yer rest and bask in yer triumph.”
She had conquered him? Diana couldn’t see how that was possible. He had abducted her, ravished her—willingly, yes, but ravished all the same. She had been the one conquered, hadn’t she?
“Will you take off your mask and let me see you?” She reached up to touch his face and found the edges of the mask and began to slip her fingers under it, along the line of his jaw.
