Highland Shifter (MacCoinnich Time Travel) (20 page)

Still he didn’t move, didn’t utter a sound. Helen pushed her ear to his chest and held her breath.

His heart beat in a rapid tattoo, slowing with every deep even breath he managed. Unable to stop herself, she collapsed on him.
Alive. He’s alive.

Once she caught her breath, she moved far enough away to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was exhausted. On some level, she knew being tired was his only illness. She grasped onto the pillow and bedding she
’d dragged up to the turret while waiting for his return. After placing his head on the padding, she tucked one of the two blankets under and over his body. Unable to stop herself, she took her time making sure he wasn’t injured. His body was lean, strong, and completely lethal. Even asleep, his masculine vitality that ruled her brain and her libido since she met him, shone through. She wanted to run her hand over his six-pack abs and narrow waist, but to do so while he slept felt like a violation, even though she doubted he’d mind.

She diverted her gaze away from his sex and covered him completely. Glancing at the door, Helen pushed away the thought of leaving to find him clothes.

When he awoke would be soon enough. She decided to lay beside him. After closing the shutters and some of the draft coming from the Scotland dawn, Helen lifted the second blanket and covered them both. She made use of his arm to lay her head on and curled up into his warmth.

She took in a deep breath, inhaling his rain-scented skin, and tasted a strong dose of pine. His scent changed constantly, she decided. This cologne was born of the falcon.

How did it feel to fly? To soar above the treetops and see what no man has ever witnessed?

And what of the wolf? The form he took that very first day? She remembered a wildness about his scent then. A fierceness hiding behind his eyes. Did he ever lose himself to the animal?

How would it feel to be pursued and cornered by the beast and then made love to by the man?

Helen shifted next to him as warmth flooded her belly and her nipples hardened beneath the long sleeping gown she
’d been given to wear.

With a will of their own, her fingers fanned over the expanse of his chest and rested above his heart.

Simon moaned in his sleep, his hand moved to hers and held it there. He didn’t wake, but managed to pull her closer to his side.

Forcing her mind to clear, Helen touched her lips to his chest and closed her eyes. Safe. Even with a war raging, warriors fighting, she felt safe in his arms.

Chapter Seventeen

Warm mist caught him as he flew into the pristinely white clouds. The wind kept him afloat with little to no effort. The cloud caught him and smelled of strawberries as it held him close and brought him slowly down to earth.

It felt good to sleep, to awake feeling rested and whole.

And warm.

And not alone.

Even before he opened his eyes, Simon knew Helen was curled up beside him, one of her legs resting intimately over his. Deep, even breaths blew hot air over his exposed chest and his eager body responded.

A lock of her shiny brown hair drifted over her eyes, her heart shaped lips were opened enough to breathe. She was beautiful, and the way she wrapped around his body in sleep gave her an endearing look of vulnerability. Simon would bet his sword she wouldn
’t enjoy the title of ‘vulnerable’. She worked so hard to prove she wasn’t, but he’d seen her at her weakest. Each tear he had witnessed her shed was one too many. As always, the overwhelming need to protect her gave him reason to wake every morning.

He draped the arm she slept on around her shoulders and melded his body more firmly against hers. Helen sighed in her sleep, her knee lifted, and brushed against his expanding erection.

Simon bit back a moan and failed miserably. He growled. A sound from deep within his soul escaped.

Helen tilted her chin up, even in her sleep, inviting.

A better man would have let her open her eyes.

Simon didn
’t. He bent his head and captured her lips, soft and warm and sweet like the nectar of an overripe fruit. Helen nestled closer and let out a tiny moan of her own. The mewling cat-like noise drifted from her lips and inflamed Simon even more. When her lips started to move over his, and her breathing sped up, he knew she woke.

She hesitated briefly, making him wonder if the innocent woman he
’d known when they first met would appear. Instead, Helen climbed up further on his chest until her tongue met with his. The nerves in his body gave off tiny sparks of joy with every touch of her hand, every noise of pleasure she uttered. Whatever demons she’d combated before, Simon had obviously managed to vanquish them. The woman kissing him was a confident woman who knew what she wanted.

His woman.

Simon ran a hand down her waist and captured her backside in his palm. She squirmed over him, her hips dancing with his. “Good morning,” he managed in a hoarse whisper.

Her breath hitched as he hiked her leg over his and let his cock rub the damp fabric between her legs. “I-I
’m not dreaming?”

He chuckled. “With dreams like this, I
’d never leave bed.”

Bright blue eyes met his, her lids heavy with desire. “We
’re not in a bed.”

“Do you want to be?” He realized a cold floor wasn
’t ideal, but the thought of moving before having her, before showing her the stars, was painful.

A shy smile met her lips, and she leaned forward and kissed one of his nipples. She swiped her tongue over its taut edge, and he knew she didn
’t want to retreat from their private haven any more than he.

Simon filled his palm with her breast and teased the tip through the fabric of her nightgown. Helen bit his nipple in a playful response.

“Vixen.”

She bit him again. “I was sleeping. Minding my own business,” she laughed.

“If this is how you mind your own business, I’d like to see you tending to mine.”

Helen walked her fingers up his chest and wove them into his hair.

Simon had a strong desire to push her onto her back, but knew the cold floor would leave marks on her skin by the time they were done. No, he’d watch her above him. Watch her do whatever she pleased. He’d bring her pleasure any way she wanted. God’s blood he prayed she’d gift him with a release buried deep inside of her.

Instinctively, Simon knew not to push her. Something about the way she
’d pushed him away hinted of past pain. He’d never be that to her.

“Would you like me to tend to yours?”

Aye.
“Only if I can tend to yours.”

The silly grin on her lips tilted slightly and her eyes grew serious. Without another word, she lifted the hem of her nightclothes above her knees while straddling his chest. He could feel her heat and smell her desire. His eyes threatened to roll in the back of his head but he kept them on her. Simon
’s hands rested on her thighs as she crossed her arms over her body and removed her clothing.

Her skin was satin, smooth, and silky. Simon watched his hands as they traveled up her shapely thighs. He dipped his thumb over the crest of her hips and scented the glistening patch of hair covering her womanhood. Without touching her there, he skimmed his callused fingers over her stomach and up her trim waist until he held her perfectly luscious breasts in his hands. “I could touch you for years.”

Leaning forward, Helen kissed him. She invaded his mouth like a vengeful army, taking no prisoners and leaving no spot untouched.

The heat of her core pressed down on him, his erection jutting close enough to feel her folds.

Simon felt his control slipping. He broke away from her kiss and held her cheeks between his hands. “Are you sure of this, lass?”

Her eyes darted back and forth between his. “I
’m straddling you naked, Simon. I think I’m sure.”

“I need you. Now.”

Her lips caught between her teeth. “Then take me.”

Releasing a breath, he moved his hands to her hips and with little effort, lifted her over his length. With his eyes never leaving hers, he nudged her open and sank into the tight cavern of her beautiful body. Together they sighed, their smiles giving way to stolen breaths.

Helen’s body gave him room and quivered around him, nearly undoing him right then. She moved her hips and he held her still. “A moment, lass. You’re so tight.”

She clenched him even more with his words.

He groaned.

“It
’s been a long time,” she told him.

Good, he thought, no room inside her head for anyone but him. “I
’ll make you forget anyone before me,” he vowed as he lifted her up only to plunge into her again.

“You
’re so sure of yourself,” she teased.

Her eyes rolled up when he reached the back of her womb. “Us. I
’m sure of us.” Everything about their joining felt perfect, as if she were the missing part of his life.

Speech became impossible as they moved together. Their bodies in perfect sync with the other. Helen
’s hands roamed his hips, his chest. She set the pace and Simon willingly followed. He forced his body to stay alert and not give into the tsunami wave of pleasure building by being buried inside of Helen.

She leaned over him, the soft mounds of her chest slid over his, her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she reached higher. Simon kept the upward-thrusting tilt of his hips, giving more than he thought possible. Her breath hitched and when her orgasm crashed over her, he captured her lips to help keep her silent, knowing her pleasure would reach even higher. She spasmed, gripping him hard until her rocking body started to lax.

Unable to take more, Simon twisted her under him, positioning her back on the blankets. He cradled her hips and kept as much of his weight off her to avoid pushing her into the hard floor.

She snaked a leg over his hips and grasped his ass. “Don
’t hold back,” she pleaded. “I won’t break.”

With her command, he drove harder, felt her surrender when his body tightened, and his release took over. All thought disappeared.

* * * *

A long time passed before either of them moved. Helen marveled in the weight of his body holding her firmly on the floor. She didn
’t even mind the pebble that wedged itself between her shoulder blade and her spinal column. Every limb in her body melted like butter in a flame. She couldn’t remember a time she’d felt so safe, so wanted. So deliciously used and most definitely bruised. She’d wear the marks with a cat-sized grin and picture this moment for the rest of her life.

Considering her previous intimacies could be counted on a few fingers, and none of them worth remembering, Simon could easily play the role of
‘world’s finest’ in her eyes.

“I
’m crushing you.”

“Yeah, but it
’s nice.” And it was, their bodies still attached and slick.

He moved to his side but kept her gathered to him. It was as if he wanted to leave the warm, inviting place between her legs either. The offending pebble dislodged and fell away.

“Did I hurt you, lass?”

She nodded with a little laugh.

Simon grew serious and ran his hand over her shoulder.

“It
’s okay,” she told him. “Very, very okay.”

He kissed her nose and settled. “I shouldn
’t have taken you here.”

“Well, your room would have been off limits. The boys invaded your space last night to make room for one of your neighbors.”

In fact, the room she’d been given was taken too and she and Amber were rooming together. The massive Keep was getting tight.

“I see. Mayhap I
’ll have a mattress brought up here.”

She liked the thought but questioned the wisdom of spending every night in Simon
’s arms. After some mental math, she knew the timing was off for her to get pregnant, but that would change in less than a week. Birth control wasn’t necessary in her sexless life back home, and it wasn’t available here.

“I
’m guessing that affairs aren’t smiled upon in these times.”

“Nay. Not with ladies of your standing.”

She laughed. “I’m not a lady of any standing.”

Simon placed a finger over her lips. “Yes you are, Helen. I
’ll not have anyone say or treat you otherwise.”

She wrapped her leg around his hips and felt him start to harden inside her. “I noticed something.”

He linked her knee with his hand and caressed the sensitive flesh of her thigh. “What might that be?”

“I noticed that ever since we came back here, to this time, you have a little more burr in your speech, a lot more sixteenth century language rolling off your tongue.”

“Women like the accent. Makes them weep with desire.”

Oh, how he knew exactly what to say.