Page 85 of Sutherland's Secret
Eleanor fell to her knees in front of him and looked at him in worry. “Did we break something?”
He laughed softly. “Nay. Well, almost. God, Eleanor, what ye do to me. It’s no’ healthy. I swear it’s no’.”
She grinned and lifted his kilt to see his enormous erection. He didn’t think he’d ever been so hard and in so much pain that equaled so much pleasure.
“I think I see the problem. And I think I know of a solution.”
He drew in a deep ragged breath. “I wanted it to last long, but I’m afraid that might no’ happen.”
“That’s all right. We can always do this again until we get it right.”
“Ach, lass. Ye’ll kill me, but what a way to go.”
He managed to get himself to a standing position and divest himself of the kilt faster than he’d ever done. The shirt landed on top of the pile of clothes, and then they were facing each other, naked.
“Turn around,” he commanded.
She lifted a brow but did as he’d said. She was facing the edge of the bed, her back to him. He leaned over her, his penis brushing her very nicely rounded arse. He took her hands and placed them on the bed until she was leaning over, her arse in the air. He groaned and ran his hand over the swells of her hips, the dip of her waist. She moaned beneath his touch.
With one hand, Brice guided himself into her, sliding into her channel effortlessly. He put his hands on her waist and withdrew, then plunged in again. Eleanor pressed her forehead into the bed. The bedsheets muffled her moans. She took fistfuls of the covers into her hands.
Brice moved inside her, watching his manhood, wet with her juices, slip in and out. By now Eleanor’s moans were one long cry. He reached around her and thumbed her nub until she screamed, her muscles clenching down on him, drawing his seed out of him in an explosion that turned his vision black. He buried himself so far into her that he couldn’t have gotten any farther if he’d tried.
When they were finished, Eleanor crawled onto the bed and collapsed face-first. Brice fell on top of her, unable to move another inch. They lay like that for the longest time, catching their breath, waiting for their hearts to cease thundering.
When they crawled under the covers, Brice pulled her to him, fitting her curves into him. Almost immediately she drifted off to a deep slumber, but Brice lay awake, memorizing everything about her.
“Tha mo ghion ort,”he whispered.
Chapter 34
“Riders approaching!”
With a curse, Brice was out of bed and tossing his shirt over his head and rolling into his kilt before Eleanor had a chance to slide out of bed. The call came from the bailey, and she could hear a confusion of noises from outside.
“Who is it?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. They’d been asleep only a few hours. It didn’t seem like nearly long enough.
“Stay up here until I know who it is,” Brice said as he strapped on his broadsword. He was out the door before she could nod.
Quickly she grabbed the first thing that came to hand, which happened to be one of Brice’s shirts hanging on the back of a chair. It came to his knees when he wore it, as was the custom in Scotland. On her it came to mid-shin, and the sleeves were well past her fingertips.
She passed through the connecting door to her chambers and looked out her window above the bailey. Brice was already down there, ready to face the approaching riders, Lachlan beside him and his men behind him. All were fully attired with their weaponry. The sight made Eleanor shudder. They were always ready to defend themselves here in the Highlands, trusting few people.
The riders came through the portcullis and Brice stepped forward to greet them, Lachlan at his back, his hand on the hilt of his broadsword. Very quickly Brice, Lachlan, and the other men relaxed their stance. Upon closer inspection, Eleanor thought she recognized the colors of the visitors’ kilts, but she couldn’t place whom they belonged to.
Brice spoke to them at length, and the entire group of warriors entered the castle, out of Eleanor’s sight. Grooms scurried forward and took charge of the horses, and the activities in the bailey resumed a natural rhythm, which eased her fears. She called for Cecilia, deciding that after the ride last night, she needed to bathe before she faced her brother again.
Her door opened and Brice was standing there, his expression desolate. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so, and she hurried to him. “What is it?”
“Colin. He’s been arrested by Blackwood and taken to Fort Augustus.”
Eleanor’s hand covered her mouth but not before it could stifle her gasp of horror. “Oh, no. What for?”
His look was bleak, and it made her blood run cold. She well knew what it meant to be arrested and taken to Fort Augustus, where Cumberland and his men were living. She’d seen many Highlanders come and go through that dungeon, and those who left weren’t released to continue living their lives.
“He was arrested for attacking the soldiers who had yer brother.”
“But he did that for us. To help us.” She’d been so positive Colin would escape that she’d given him little thought after the episode last night. Colin was a warrior, a fighter, and a smuggler. He could get himself out of any situation. “Brice…” She didn’t know what to say. She saw the guilt in Brice’s eyes, the self-blame. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask Colin to be a decoy so we could grab Thomas.”
