The Campbell Trilogy (11 page)

Her voice broke, and it did something to him. His anger slid away. He could understand her confusion—hell, he felt it, too. She was innocent. Too young. With little knowledge of what happened between a man and a woman. She couldn’t realize that this passion and fierce attraction between them was different. But he would show her.

He lowered his mouth, his lips hovering only inches from hers. He could feel the quickening of her breath against his and the quiver of anticipation that ran through her.

She wanted this as badly as he did. Her lips parted …

But he did not kiss her mouth. His lips dropped to her jaw and neck, tasting the honey of her skin. He burrowed into the warm, soft skin of her neck, inhaling the floral perfume of her silky hair. He devoured her skin, kissing, sucking, licking, until she shuddered against him.

He was hot and hard, desire pulled tautly in his groin.

But he would not press his claim. He needed her to acknowledge her desire. He lifted his head and took her chin in his fingers, forcing her half-lidded gaze to his. “Is this what you want, Caitrina?” His voice was rough with passion.

He slid his thumb over the soft pad of her plump lower lip. He couldn’t wait to taste her again. But he would hear it from her own mouth.

She gasped and nodded.

It wasn’t enough. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I want this.”

A primitive heat surged through him in a rush of pure masculine satisfaction. With a groan, he gave her what she wanted—what they both wanted—and covered her mouth with his.

So this was desire. This all-consuming need. The heat. The feeling that if he didn’t kiss her right now, she would die. Nothing could have prepared Caitrina for the conflagration of emotions surging through her body. She was on fire, her skin hot and sensitive to the touch.

When his lips finally touched hers, she sighed against his mouth. It was the same as before, only stronger, more intense. How could something so new and unfamiliar feel so right? It was as if she’d been waiting for this her whole life.

His lips were firm and soft, entreating but not demanding. His hand cupped her chin, the rough pads of his fingers caressing with such tenderness that she felt her heart squeeze with longing. It didn’t seem possible that a man known for his ruthlessness could be so gentle.

Everything about this kiss was tender and sweet, but it wasn’t enough. Not to quiet this strange yearning burgeoning inside her.

As if he could sense her need, he kissed her again, this time using his mouth and fingers to deftly urge her lips apart.

At the first sweep of his tongue, she gasped. But her shock was quickly forgotten in the maelstrom of new sensations rippling through her. He tasted her again, stroking deeper and deeper with his tongue. It was exquisite, this joining, the dark, carnal taste of him; the melding of their mouths and tongues. He parried and feinted with long, slow strokes, the gentle teasing sending a wild fluttering to her stomach and driving her mad with longing.

She couldn’t seem to get close enough. She wrapped her hands around his neck, stretching her body more fully against his. He felt incredible, so warm and hard, she just wanted to dissolve against him. There was something undeniably rousing about the power of his hard warrior’s body. She ran her hands over the heavy bunch of muscles at his shoulders, savoring the strength harnessed under her fingertips. Her nipples hardened, straining against the muscled wall of his chest.

He was magnificent. And he wanted her, she could feel it drumming inside him. But he kept a tight rein on his passion. She knew he didn’t want to frighten her given what had just happened. But Jamie was nothing like Torquil MacNeil. Instinctively, she knew that he would never hurt her. His control was admirable, but perversely it egged her on—she wanted him falling apart, as she was.

Tentatively, she reached her tongue out to meet his. He groaned, tightening his hold around her waist, molding her body more firmly against his. More intimately. She felt the evidence of his desire hard and powerful against her stomach, and heat pooled between her legs.

The excited beat of his heart against hers urged her on.
She gave herself over to the kiss, meeting every stroke with one of her own. The heat between them was building to explosion. Her skin felt tight and sensitive, aching for his touch. Unconsciously, she rubbed against him, seeking the relief that only friction could bring.

This was madness, but she couldn’t get enough. The kiss turned more frantic, deeper, wetter, hungrier. She felt the imprint of his hand on her waist, on her ribs, sliding up to cup her breast.

She trembled, never imagining that she could so crave a man’s touch. His mouth dropped to her jaw, to her neck, and down her chest. The scrape of his jaw blazed a path of fire along her skin. She shivered as the warmth of his breath and the wetness of his tongue made her skin prickle. But nothing prepared her for the sensations that took hold when his tongue slid below the edge of her bodice. She gasped with surprise and then pleasure to feel the wet heat of his tongue sliding over her nipple. He’d loosened the laces of her bodice and gently scooped her breasts over her stays.

His voice was rough and husky as he ran his thumb over the hardened tip of her nipple.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

For a moment, reality intruded. Embarrassed, she felt the heat of a blush spread over her skin. But it was forgotten an instant later when he covered her taut peak with his mouth, scraping her lightly with his teeth. She sank against his mouth, bolts of pleasure striking straight to her heart.

Jamie knew he was playing with fire. His control had been stretched to the breaking point by her enthusiastic response.

He’d taken it slowly, having care for her innocence, but he sensed that with Caitrina he would learn the limits of his own endurance. Never had he been so filled with lust and yet so unfocused on relief.

He wanted this to be perfect for her.

He scooped her lush breasts in his hands, lifting them to his mouth but pausing to admire the soft ivory skin and delicate pink tips. He wanted to rub his face in the deep cleft, inhaling the soft floral perfume of her skin. But first he had to taste her. His mouth closed over one delicate tip, and he took her deep in his mouth with a long, delicious pull.

His cock jerked hard at her moan.

She was so responsive to his touch, he couldn’t hold back. He sucked her harder, circling her with his tongue and pulling her gently between his teeth. The honey sweet taste of her was more potent than ambrosia. He could feel her tremble, feel the race of her pulse and the harsh quickening of her breath.

He felt her urgency and knew the restlessness was building inside her. Knew how badly she needed relief. If he touched her, he knew she would be hot and deliciously wet.

God, he could make her come.

Once the thought was in place, it would not be dislodged. It was all he could think of. Being the first to show her pleasure. Binding her to him, making her his.

He worked her breast with his mouth as his hand skimmed over her hip and bottom—resisting the urge to bring her more firmly against him—and down the long length of her leg to slide under the edge of her skirt.

At the first touch of her skin, he felt her stiffen with shock. He soothed her skittishness with soft murmurs whispered against her damp skin as he continued to kiss and suck her breasts. “Don’t be scared, my sweet. I only wish to give you pleasure. I will stop whenever you wish.”

He released her breast and kissed her mouth again, stroking her with his tongue, mimicking the movements he would make with his finger. He felt her body relax.

His hand slid up the delicate curve of her leg; her skin was as soft as velvet.

His erection strained against the leather of his breeches. Lust pounded in his ears, but he quieted it, focusing solely on the beautiful woman about to come apart in his arms. His fingers caressed the soft skin of her inner thighs.

Her breath caught and he broke the kiss, lifting his head so he could look at her when he touched her. Her eyes were hazy with passion, but also hesitant.

He swept his finger over her, and her eyes widened with shock.

He fought the groan that racked his body, feeling her dampness. He’d never been so aroused by anything as the slick evidence of her desire.
For me.

He touched her again, teasing, coming achingly close to her core, to the place she so desperately wanted him to touch.

She shuddered against him, growing heavier in his arms as her legs weakened. He brushed her again and again, until her back arched and her hips started to move against his hand in innocent frustration. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he took her breast in his mouth again and sucked just as he slid his finger inside her. The sound of pleasure she made nearly unmanned him. She was so wet, he had to fight the shudder of his own desire. He was hot and hard and ready to explode. He wanted nothing more than to slide inside her, feeling her tightness clamp around him and draw him in.

But first it was for her.

He sucked and stroked, his hand and mouth working in perfect tandem, merciless in his need to bring her more pleasure than she’d ever dreamed of.

The force of what came over her was like nothing she’d ever imagined. Caitrina felt the sensations build and build inside her until they had nowhere else to go.

The quiver between her legs where he touched tightened
into a frantic pulsing. She didn’t know what to do. Her hips moved against his hand, seeking pressure. It felt as if she were reaching for something that hovered just out of her reach.

Frustrated, she writhed in his arms. “Please … Oh, God.”

“Let go, my sweet. Don’t fight it.”

She couldn’t if she wanted to. Not with the magical way he was touching her.

And then she felt it take hold, a feeling unlike anything that had come before, a feeling as close to heaven as she had ever thought to experience on earth. She cried out. Her entire body clenched. For a moment she thought her heart had stopped, then everything shattered and the spasms of release crashed over her.

When it was over she sagged against him, drained by the power and wonder of what had just happened.

Her heart stalled.
By what had just happened.

She opened her eyes, seeing Jamie Campbell holding her in his arms. Restraint pulled tautly across his handsome features in the hard flex of his jaw and the fierce intensity in his eyes. She felt his body against her, the hard length of his manhood throbbing against her hip, the furious pounding of his heart that had yet to slow. The stark reality of what had only a few minutes ago been cloaked in passion hit her with the force of a thunderbolt.

Dear God, what have I just done?
Shame crawled over her as she was forced to acknowledge the intimacy of what they’d just shared. She’d allowed Jamie Campbell to touch her in places and do things to her that belonged only to a husband.

Pushing him away, she staggered out of his arms, her eyes burning with humiliation.

He tried to take her arm to steady her, but she flinched away.

“There is no shame in what just happened to you, Caitrina.” His voice was soft and soothing, so understanding.

But she didn’t want to hear it.

“How can you say that?” she cried, her voice tight with the ball of emotion lodged at the back of her throat. She gazed down at her breasts bared over her stays and loosened gown, her nipples tender and rosy from his wicked kiss. Mortified heat spread across her cheeks. Turning, she made quick work of covering herself, trying to restore some semblance of modesty.

Despair drained through her as she recognized the truth: Some things would never be restored—like her innocence and illusion of indifference.

When she turned back around, she avoided his gaze but noticed that all vestiges of passion had been erased from his face. His expression was once again implacable. She hated his control. That he could be so unaffected when her world had just shattered seemed somehow all the more devastating. What would it take for this man to
feel?

“Everything will be all right, Caitrina.” He tried to take her hand, but she yanked it away. There was nothing he could do to comfort her. “I will speak to your father—”

“No!” Her eyes flew to his in panic. “You will do nothing of the kind.”

His steely gaze bored into her, and he drew himself up to his full height—which was imposing indeed. “I will, of course, offer for you.”

She shook her head. “There is no need—”

“Yes”—he caught her arm, this time not letting go—“there is. I want you.”

Her chest squeezed:
possession.
“You don’t want
me.
I’m merely another battle to be won. Something you saw and decided you had to have. A pretty decoration to keep by your side. You don’t even
know
me.”

His jaw clenched. “I know all I need to know. You are
clever, beautiful without artifice, strong, and care deeply for those you love. I’ve seen the way you look after your father and brothers.”

“Because I
love
them. You can’t think that I’d ever feel the same—”

“No,” he cut her off curtly. “I’d not expect that of you, but after what just happened, you can hardly claim that you are indifferent to me.”

God, it was true. How could I have succumbed so easily?
Hot pressure built in her eyes and throat. He’d warned her that she was naïve.… Caitrina stiffened. Her eyes searched his face for signs of duplicity. Had he used her innocence against her?

She felt like such a fool. “And whatever the Highland Henchman wants he takes, is that it? You knew I didn’t want you, so you tricked me. You are every bit as cruel as they say, not stopping at anything to get what you want.”

Tiny white lines appeared around his mouth, the only sign that she’d penetrated his steely armor of control. “Have care, Princess,” he said roughly. “I’ve already warned you that I’m not one of your mealymouthed suitors you can wrap around your little finger. You are wrong about my motives. I took nothing that was not willingly offered. Deny me if you wish, but at least be honest with yourself.”