The Campbell Trilogy (130 page)

Duncan called on every last ounce of his restraint. Her bold desire for him was like a powerful aphrodisiac, her open admiration for his body a siren’s call almost impossible to resist. And then when her gaze had fallen on his cock …

He groaned, the memory sent a fresh surge of blood to the already throbbing head.

His body urged him to give her what she wanted. To rip off the flimsy piece of linen that covered her, toss her down on the bed and swiv her until the demon of desire that had possessed him let go. Until he could think straight.

She did something to him—she always had. She touched something inside him that unleashed a primitive side that he’d never known existed. Good intentions. Control. Honor. All fell by the wayside in the face of his desire for her.

It was everything he had not to give into it. Not this time. Explosive passion wasn’t enough. He wanted everything. Her trust. Her heart. Her soul.

If only her breasts weren’t so spectacular. He weighed them in his hands, lifted them to his face to bury his nose in the deep cleft between them and inhaled the soft fragrance of her skin.

No one smelled like she did. Clean and sweet, with the faint scent of honeysuckle. It filled his nose, his lungs, his body. He wanted to drown in it, in her.

Her nipples beaded under his fingertips. Gently, he
rolled them between his thumb and forefinger to a stiff pink point. Too sweet a temptation. He’d wanted to undress her slowly, but he couldn’t wait another minute to have her naked. Images of her gorgeous body had haunted him since that day at the loch. Taking the hem of the nightraile, he slowly drew it up the length of her body and over her head.

When it was off, she blushed and instinctively tried to cover herself. But he would have none of it. “No. Don’t. You’re so damn beautiful.” He smiled, seeing her pink cheeks. “Especially when you’re blushing.”

Slowly she removed her hands, revealing her creamy nakedness to his view.

God’s blood, he thought, taking in the heavy round curves of her breasts, the slim contours of her waist and hips, and the long shapely legs.
I’m a lucky man.

His silence had given her the wrong idea. “I’ve changed as well. I’ve had two children.”

He slid his hands around her waist. “You’ve only become more beautiful.” How could she not see it? He traced the heavy contour of her breast with the back of his finger and looked into her eyes. “Beautiful.”

Needing to taste her, he scooped the soft, round flesh in his hands and lifted her breasts to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on each tip.

She made a sharp sound that told him she’d forgotten her embarrassment.

He caressed her with his hands, with his mouth, with his tongue. Sucking her nipples one at a time deep in his mouth. Her skin was so soft and smooth. Velvet under his tongue.

She moaned, her back arching. His cock jerked hard against his stomach. She was so damned responsive, he could make her come by just sucking her breasts.

But he had other plans.

He wrapped his hands around her ankles and looked
into her eyes. Through the soft, haze of passion he saw her anticipation.

Slowly he moved his hands up, sculpting the long, slim legs that were every bit as shapely as he remembered. He stopped just above her knees.

He heard her breath catch, and felt her legs wobble.

His fingers brushed the soft skin of her inner thighs. Now she was shaking, trembling with desire. And deliciously wet. He bent down and replaced his fingers with his mouth, nuzzling her, inhaling the soft scent of her womanhood.

Her hands clasped his shoulders, as if her legs had suddenly given out. He slid his hands around to cup her bottom, to bring her more fully under his dominion.

“Duncan,” she said, in weak protest. “You can’t—”

She stopped when he licked her, her tight, round bottom clenching in his hand. A devilish chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Oh, yes, I can. And I will—very thoroughly.” He licked her again, tasting her deeper.

She gasped, moaned, shuddered. He lifted his gaze to hers. “Look at me, Jeannie. I want to see your eyes as I pleasure you.”

Her green eyes met his, wild and full of passion. Her lips were parted, her breath panting.

His chest tightened. God, she was beautiful. And shaking with desire.

Holding her gaze, he kissed her again, drawing his tongue along the damp opening, then easing slowly inside. He sighed into her, his tongue thrusting and circling in long delicious strokes. All the while holding her gaze, watching as green turned black. As lids fluttered. As cheeks turned pink with the flush of pleasure. He sensed her restlessness, sensed her fighting release, and pushed her harder, deeper, closer to the edge. He kissed her until she cried out. Then he held her there, sucking
until she shattered. He felt the spasms take hold as her body clenched and pulsed with her release.

When the last pulse had ebbed, she collapsed against him, her body limp. Satisfied, but by no means finished, he showed a little mercy and lowered her to the bed.

But it would be the last she saw this night.

He gazed at her soft and languid on the bed, overcome for a moment by his love for this woman.

The tightness in his chest would not let go. He knew just how fragile was the truce they’d established.

His own future was anything but certain, but when he was done with her tonight, he would leave her no doubt that she belonged to him for as long as that future held.

Duncan was staring at her with the strangest expression on his face.

Jeannie reached up to put a hand on his cheek, rubbing her palm against the stubble of the dark beard that shadowed his jaw. He looked so serious. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

A slow smile curved his mouth. It landed like a blow across the chest. For a moment he looked like the boy she’d lost her heart to.

“Nothing is wrong, though I hope you don’t intend to take a nap.”

He was sitting on the edge of the bed leaning over her, and she let her gaze travel over the broad muscled chest and down to the prominent evidence of his arousal. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You mean we aren’t done?”

“Do I look done?”

She bit her lip playfully. “Hmm. I can’t tell.” She lifted her gaze to his, seeing his blue eyes turn dark. “Perhaps I should touch and see?”

All signs of playfulness fled. “God, yes,” he groaned.

She reached down between their bodies and circled him. Her hand looked so small holding him, her fingers
weren’t even able to close around him. His skin was hot, but velvety soft and rock hard at the same time.

He showed her how to stroke him, how to bring him pleasure. She loved to watch the way his stomach muscles clenched as her rhythm quickened. To watch the emotions play upon his handsome features. She scooted closer, pressing tiny kisses along his clenched jaw, on his neck, on his chest. She loved the taste of his skin. The warmth. The crisp, clean saltiness.

She heard his breath hitch as her mouth dipped lower. As her tongue slid over the steely defined bands lining his stomach.

Her hand paused. What would the rest of him taste like?

She lifted her gaze to his, his expression more fierce than she’d ever seen it. Every muscle in his body seemed clenched tight. He read her silent question and nodded. Barely. He seemed unable to move.

He pulsed, a pearly drop seeping from his tip and she licked it off with her tongue, tasting him. He swore, and nearly jumped off the bed, his body shaking with pleasure. She lowered her head and pressed her lips around him, taking the heavy head of his erection in her mouth. He groaned, clenched hard, then lifted his hips to slide deeper into her mouth. Her senses filled with the tangy male essence of him. Everything was deeper … darker … more intense.

She closed her eyes and gave over to the powerful sensations, exploring him with her mouth, with her tongue, sucking him deeper and deeper down her throat. His responses—the groans, the stiffening of his body—were her guide. With each stroke she grew more confident. The knowledge that she was driving him mad with pleasure only increased her own.

“No more,” he said, lifting her head from him, his voice rough. “I need to be inside you.”

Gently, he laid her back down on the bed and slid beside her, skin to skin. She snuggled against his warmth, savoring the incredible sensation of his long, powerful body stretched against hers.

He lowered his head and kissed her, coaxing with deep sensual strokes of his tongue. His hands possessed her body, the hard calluses of his palms marking her. There was no part of her he left untouched. Her breasts, her legs, her arms, her feet. He left her warm and whimpering for more.

His hand slid between her legs, as his mouth held her in a deep kiss, his tongue and finger acting in perfect unison.

She pressed against his hand, against his body, dissolving into a pool of fire. Sensation pushed to the edge of every nerve ending, waiting to be set free. She couldn’t think, lost in the throes of passion so thick and heavy it was like trying to see through a dense mist.

He moved over her, positioning his hands on either side of her shoulders, the plump head of his erection poised at her entry. Holding her gaze, he slid inside her slowly, inch by inch, possessing her with his body, with his soul.

It was too intense. Too powerful. The tightness in her chest too much.

She gasped when he’d reached the end, then gave one final nudge and held her there. Letting her feel him. His weight. The incredible sensation of him inside her … filling her. Making her complete. With his eyes, he forced her to acknowledge the connection that bound them together. Not just their bodies, but something far deeper. Something elemental. Something that could not be put into words, but that she could see reflected in his piercing gaze.

Her heart welled up, overcome by an emotion she’d never thought to feel again. An emotion so intense it frightened her as all that she had to lose became clear.

Then he started to move, thrusting with long deep strokes. Strokes that reverberated through her body from head to toe, each staking a further claim. It was the most erotic, intimate moment of her life.

No other man could make her feel like this because no other man existed for her.

Duncan didn’t think anything could feel more incredible than Jeannie’s soft, pink mouth stretched around the head of his cock, her tongue stroking him, her mouth sucking him deeper and deeper into her throat.

But he was wrong.

Raw lust was nothing to the emotion that gripped his heart as he sank into her inch by incredible inch. Her eyes pulled him in. Deeper and deeper. To touch her soul.

She was so warm. So wet. So sweetly tight. He’d forgotten how it felt to be inside her. How her body felt under his. She was so tiny and soft he worried that he would crush her, but she pulled him down, seeking the connection of skin on skin. Her breasts were crushed to his chest as he thrust high inside her, her nipples raking him.

He closed his eyes, sensation showering over him in a warm, tingling wave.

He thrust again, groaning. It felt too good. The pleasure too intense to contain. Her body clenched around him like a fist, pumping, milking.

She moaned and lifted her hips, meeting him, circling in a slow, delicious dance.

Blood pounded through him, concentrating at the sensitive head. Sensation coiled at the base of his spine in a hot pulsing fist. He was going to explode.

Sweat poured off his forehead as he fought to hold on. He thrust high and hard, forcing her …

She cried out, calling his name as her body racked
with the spasm of her release. The sheer ecstasy on her face pushed him over the edge. He drove into her one more time and stiffened, then jerked with the force of his own release as pleasure crashed over him in a hard, earth-shattering wave.

He stayed inside her until the spasms ebbed and the last drop of pleasure had been wrung from him. But even then he was reluctant to break the connection. Only the knowledge that he was probably crushing her forced him to slide from the warm embrace of her body. Rolling to the side, he gathered her up in his arms, cradling her against his shoulder. The night air cooled his heated skin.

They were silent for a while. After what had just happened it seemed fitting. Words would be lacking.

Her finger weaved absently through the thin triangle of hair below his neck, following the thin trail down to his stomach. He could tell she was thinking.

“Did you mean it?” she asked, gazing up at him.

He didn’t need to ask what she meant. “Aye.”

“What made you realize that it wasn’t me who took the map?”

He twirled a lock of silky red hair in his finger, letting it fall in a soft puddle on his chest. “It wasn’t any one thing. I suppose I started to see beyond the ‘proof and listened to my gut. Your reaction had a lot to do with it. I realized how much my leaving had hurt you. You acted wronged, not guilty.” He felt a hard burning in his chest as the ramifications of what he’d done hit him. “God, Jeannie, I’m sorry.” He heard her voice in his head begging him not to leave and tried to shut it out. By all rights she should hate him. “I should have trusted you. I should have given you a chance to explain. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Why were you so quick to find me guilty?”

She wasn’t asking about the specific evidence against
her, but the more difficult question of why he believed it. He thought back, remembering. He’d been so young, barely a man, still making his way in the world and couldn’t quite believe he could be that fortunate to find someone like her. “I’d seen you with your father, and knew how much you loved him, knew the loyalty you felt to your family. You were young, beautiful, and could have had your pick of any man in the Highlands. Part of me couldn’t believe you’d give that all up for a bastard with nothing to his name.” He made a harsh sound. “Who didn’t even have a name.”

She lay perfectly still. “I saw the man you were. I believed in you, Duncan, not in your birth. Did I ever give you reason to think it mattered to me? Did I ever make you feel like you were anything less than the most wonderful, amazing man I’d ever known?”