Chapter Eleven

“I Feel Lucky to Have Met You”

It was the middle of the night, and Lyla had never been more wide awake.

Great. Just great .

She and Tristan lay on a thick furry rug in the spare room Ariadne had offered them earlier. The room was dark, but the light coming in from the fire in the main room cast a flickering shadow across the ceiling. Their makeshift bed was barely large enough for one person, and she and Tristan were squashed together.

Lyla was grateful for the opportunity to rest in a place that wasn’t a cave or a snowy forest floor, but no matter how long she kept her eyes shut, she couldn’t sleep. She could feel Tristan’s warm breaths against the back of her neck.

She could feel his firm body pressed against hers.

She could feel every twitching muscle.

Because there was no fireplace in here, the room was colder than the rest of the cabin. The stone floor was cool to the touch. So why did she feel so hot and restless?

She wondered if he felt the same way.

“If you still feel uncomfortable,” Tristan whispered, “I could give you some space.”

At his words, Lyla’s entire body went rigid. Her breath froze in her throat. She hadn’t even realized he was still awake. Had he been up the whole time?

She swallowed. “Un…comfortable?”

There was a rustle as he moved, which she took to mean he was nodding. “You’ve been uncomfortable ever since the night you got attacked.”

So that was what he was talking about. Lyla’s cheeks burned. She hadn’t even been thinking about that.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” Still, now that he mentioned it…. “But I guess you’re right. I was pretty shaken by everything that happened. I’ve had a lot to think about since then. I…I’ve been having mixed feelings.”

“About whether I’m innocent or not? About whether you can trust me?”

“That attack was terrifying,” she said, trying to keep the horrifying memory at bay. “But you’ve saved me multiple times. On that bridge, and even when Angus and his men attacked us….”

“I’d do it all again if I had to,” he said.

His words made her heart beat faster. A smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I feel lucky to have met you. You’re the only reason I’m still alive. There’s a part of me that finds it hard to believe you tried to kill me the other night.”

He laid a hand on her arm, and her breathing quickened as his warmth settled gently into her body.

“We…” She struggled to find words. “We’ll have to come up with a solution to your curse. But I’m happy you’re getting help. It’s a good thing your sister agreed to take us in.”

He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I feel lucky to have met you, too, Lyla. You’re not at all bad to look at.”

“You’re not such a terrible sight, either,” she replied with a chuckle.

Looking back on it, it was hard to believe she’d ever mistaken this man for Theophilus Hill. Okay, it was not that hard, but when she first laid eyes on him and struck him with that stick—which had been pretty epic, now that she thought about it—she hadn’t figured things would turn out with them sharing anything more than a loathing for each other or that the feeling of him lying with his body pressed against hers would leave her feeling so restless. It was taking every fiber of her willpower to keep from twisting and turning on the small rug.

“I should try to get some sleep,” she told him.

She did try to sleep, but closing her eyes and counting sheep just wasn’t enough, not with Tristan’s breath on her neck, not with his hand still on her shoulder. After what felt like hours, she gave up trying. She turned to face Tristan.

He was still wide awake, his eyes open and focused on her.

They lay facing each other, nose to nose, her labored breaths mingling with his. In the dim firelight, his eyes flickered with desire, then uncertainty. His lips parted at the same time hers did. Her breasts were crushed against his solid chest, heaving with each breath. Lyla wondered if he could feel her heart thudding inside her ribcage.

“Tristan?” she said weakly.

“Lyla?” came the whispered reply.

“I…I can’t sleep.”

“Me, neither.” The uncertainty had vanished from his eyes, replaced by firm resolve as he inched his mouth toward hers.

Before Lyla could utter another world, his lips crashed over hers, and what was left of her willpower shattered.

***

Tristan knew there was no coming back once he’d crossed the line.

He also didn’t care.

His mouth crushed against hers, his lips parting hers in a kiss that was equally hot and deep and wet. To his excitement, Lyla responded just as fervently, moaning and sighing into the kiss. He let his hand roam then, caressing her smooth skin before settling on her breast, plucking at the distended nipple so that she moaned again into the kiss and went almost pliant against him.

Between the sweet taste of her lips and the feel of her soft body against his, he could feel himself hardening. And she did, too, shifting her hips against his erection in a torturous rhythm that drove him wild with desire. A growl rose in his throat, and their kiss grew deeper.

Hungrier.

It was a hunger he’d ignored since the day he’d met her. A hunger he could no longer put aside. He wanted this woman, and he wanted her right here, right now. Thank goodness for stone walls. He doubted anyone could hear much from outside this room. It was the most privacy they’d had in a while.

Lust and need and raw hunger collided inside him, clawing at his chest, and he broke the kiss, bringing his lips to her jawline. He paused to brush her curls aside and planted a kiss on her collarbone. She shivered against him, curling and uncurling her fingers on his chest. Her hand traveled lower, settling at his groin, and she gripped his pulsating erection.

“Tristan…” she breathed.

He kissed her collarbone through her top. “Lyla?”

“I…” She drew a breath. “I…”

“Are you uncomfortable?” He froze all of a sudden. “Worried about…the curse?”

He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

She shook her head. “I trust you.”

No three other words could have sounded so musical to his ears. He brought his lips back to hers, kissing her long and hard and deep. He turned so that he was on top of her, his hands lifting her top off, baring her breasts to him. In the dim firelight, they were aglow, rock-hard tips pointing tantalizingly up at him.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

With a tremble of anticipation in his fingers, he peeled her trousers down to her ankles. Her shackles jangled as she kicked out of the clothes, lying completely naked beneath him.

“Your turn,” she told him.

Tristan wasted no time taking off his clothes. In a matter of seconds, he was down to bare skin. He watched her eyes widen as they roved over his body, traveling down from his broad chest to his erection throbbing proudly against her crotch. He felt a throb in his groin, but that might as well be her pulsating against him. She was hot and wet and ready for him, and the need to fill her gnawed at Tristan.

But he was just getting started.

Keeping his eyes trained on her, he lowered himself between her legs and pulled her against his mouth, tasting her. She was as delicious as he had anticipated. Lyla was nothing if not willing, parting her legs wider to open herself to him. A series of moans and incomprehensible cries escaped her lips, and he felt her fingers rake through his hair.

Her first climax arrived like a violent snowstorm, and she jerked against him with a cry, her hips buckling in his grip. He parted her legs even wider, pleasuring her as she shuddered and gasped against him. But his hunger was not satisfied. It grew with each throb, each pant. She was hot and dripping against his lips, and he found it hard not to imagine what she would feel like, clenched around his own pulsing arousal.

By the time he finally resurfaced, she was gasping like a fish out of water. He stretched himself over her body and chuckled down at her, but the look she instantly shot him shut him up.

“It’s my turn,” was all she said.

And with the dangerous skill with which she had attacked him during their first meeting, she tackled him, shifting their combined weight so that she was now on top. Before Tristan could make a move, she settled herself between his legs, curling her fingers around his erection. A shiver raced through his body; his lips parted, but no sound came out.

With a look of mischief on her face, she leaned down and kissed him, her lips trailing down his jawline. She kissed his chest, caressing his shoulder, and he felt his heart pound faster. Her mouth was hot against his skin, seemingly hotter as she traveled down his eager body. Taut with desperation, he remained still, watching her finally bring her mouth to him, tracing her tong along the length of his erection.

“Lyla, you feel—” his breath quivered, his eyes widening slightly as she took his cock into her mouth, suckling lightly on him “—so amazing.”

Her eyes lit up, and she swirled her tongue around him, bobbing her head up and down his shaft with a low hum that sent vibrations of pleasure through his body. She closed her eyes, looking as though she enjoyed the sensations she gave him just as much as he did. Her fingers stroked his shaft as she suckled him, urging him to give up the last shred of his self-control.

Tristan’s fingers curled against the fur underneath his naked body. Did she even know what she was doing to him?

She suckled him a little harder, flooding him with sensations he could only have imagined moments ago, and a concern gripped him almost as tightly as her fingers and lips did.

“Stop,” he instructed.

It sounded more like a plea. She continued to caress him with those soft, sensuous lips of hers.

“Lyla,” he said, more firmly this time. “Stop. You’re going to make me explode.”

He eased himself, half-reluctantly, out of her mouth. Lyla seemed to get the message. Only she wasn’t quite done with him yet. Her gaze was thick with lust that he knew perfectly mirrored his as she sat astride him and settled onto his cock, taking him into her slowly. They gasped in unison as he filled her, joining them at the hip.

“You feel so…”

“Perfect,” she finished for him.

She was just as hot and wet around him as he had imagined. He groaned as she began to move, her hips rocking back and forth in a tantalizingly slow motion that threatened to force his release before long. He grabbed her hips as she picked up the pace; moaning, she drove herself closer and closer to the edge. Her nails dug into his chest, and he tightened his grip on her hips to steady her.

“That’s it, Lyla,” he grunted. “Let go for me. It’s okay.”

He felt her clench around him and knew that her next orgasm was upon her. Her lips parted, and he saw them form his name. With a choked cry, she erupted, spasms of her ecstasy rolling onto his cock. His own pleasure surged through him, reaching a crescendo in the tip of himself. With a groan, he let go, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed into her.

She lowered herself to him, covering his mouth in a kiss, and they lay together, trembling in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Sweat clung to their bodies. Tristan wrapped his arm around her spent body, and she draped a leg over him, resting her head on his chest. A feeling of fulfillment settled in his chest as their gasps soon faded into blissful silence.

“I…I can’t believe…”

“Me, either,” he admitted.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just shared something deep, something precious with this woman. And he would do it again and again because that was just how much she meant to him. He felt a flutter against his chest but was unsure whether it was her heartbeat or his.

Lyla gave a light chuckle. “I think I’m going to sleep now.”