Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lillian dragged in a ragged breath to try to clear her lust-addled mind, but it was all too much.

Too much sensation.

Too much desire.

Too much pain in her heart that only Kirk’s kiss could soothe.

Only Kirk .

She loved him, despite every reason, every shred of sanity and self-preservation that told her it was wrong.

“I need you, too,” she whispered, hardly recognizing her rough, sultry voice. “And I…I love you, too.”

Her words seemed to unleash something primal within him. He made a rough noise in the back of his throat just before his mouth fell on hers once more. His kiss was fervent, edged with a hunger that mirrored her own.

He lowered her back onto the cloak spread behind her, his hands flying to her shift.

“I need to see ye. All of ye,” he rasped against her lips as he began working the wet linen down her body.

She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold, damp air around them. Nay, it was at the thought of being completely bared before Kirk. Never had she felt more exposed, more vulnerable, than in the throes of this wild, reckless heat between them.

Her whole life until this moment was pale and staid by comparison. It was as if she’d been asleep, drifting through a comfortable but colorless life. For the first time, she woke from that dreamy half-reality to feel the sun’s scorching rays on her skin, beckoning her forth into a whole new brimming, brilliant world.

All her senses came alive in Kirk’s embrace. She dragged in a breath of his scent, growing dizzy on his male musk. Her tongue tangled with his in a velvet dance. Her own breathy moans filled her ears, making her feel wild and free.

As he peeled her shift over her waist and down her hips, a breath hissed between his teeth. She searched for his eyes in the stormy gloom and found them shining with pale blue fire.

She’d always thought herself plain. Her hair and eyes were a nondescript dark brown, and her frame, though delicately curved, did not bear the luscious fullness that most men preferred.

In truth, she’d even suspected Richard’s brotherly kindness was proof that she simply wasn’t desirable in that way. Aye, they had done their duty to God in attempting to have children, but it had only ever been a pious task. No love had existed between them, and certainly no passion.

But the look of unfettered desire burning in Kirk’s eyes chased away all doubt. She felt beautiful under his gaze—not a sister or a friend, but a woman. A lover.

His eyes moved over her like a caress, and everywhere he looked, goose bumps rose along her skin. He traced over her lips and down her neck, then across her breasts. Her already-tight nipples grew even harder as his lips parted on an exhale. His gaze skimmed over her waist and hips to the crux of her legs.

She suddenly felt an empty ache there, a longing to join completely with him. Aye, she wanted to soar to those heights of pleasure again, but even more than that, she wanted to be one with him, to link their bodies in that most elemental way.

Kirk abruptly yanked his tunic up and over his head, then unfastened his breeches as he kicked his boots off. He made quick work of unclasping the leather straps around his forearms, each of which held several sheathed throwing daggers. In a moment, he was as bare as she was.

Rapt, her gaze drank him in. There was not a spare ounce of flesh anywhere on him. His skin pulled taut over hard, defined muscle. His arms and broad shoulders were corded with strength, his chest and stomach stacked with honed power.

Long, muscular legs dropped from his narrow hips, but Lillian’s gaze did not follow them down, for her eyes snagged on his manhood.

It rose thick and jutted straight out from the dark hair at his groin. She’d never seen such a magnificent sight—every inch of him was the epitome of masculine strength and virility.

Liquid heat pooled between her legs in response to the raw male power before her. Instinctively, her knees parted as she silently beckoned him into her.

But instead of falling between her legs, he came down beside her and pulled her on top of him. She made a confused noise as he settled her above him, wrapping the cloak around her bare shoulders.

When her knees parted around his hips and his cock brushed against her sex, she suddenly understood. She gasped at the wantonness of straddling him, his hands gripping her hips. She had never joined in aught more than the most perfunctory manner.

This , on the other hand, was about pleasure. The realization struck her as the crown of his cock slid along her slick folds, brushing past that sensitive point that shot heat and light through her whole body.

Kirk lifted her slightly, guiding his cock to her entrance, but then he froze.

“Take me,” she whispered. “Please.”

Gripping her hips, he lowered her with torturous slowness onto his shaft. They moaned in unison as he slid all the way home, pulling her down completely.

A heartbeat later, Lillian realized that this was about far more than just pleasure. Kirk held still, buried to the hilt within her, his fingers flexing on her hips and his jaw working for control.

“Take what ye want,” he rasped through clenched teeth.

And then a new understanding struck her. Kirk was giving her the one thing she’d never had before: control. Control of her life, her pleasure, her happiness.

Tears pricked her eyes and her breath came ragged in her tight throat. Experimentally, she rocked forward, then back.

Kirk groaned as she moved over him. One of his hands lifted to cup her breast, his callused thumb swirling over her pearled nipple.

Bolts of sizzling pleasure shot through her to where their bodies joined. She arched into his hand, finding a new world of sensations as she continued to rock against him.

As they moved as one, Lillian felt herself climbing once more toward that pinnacle of pleasure. Instinctively, she hitched her pace, her hips finding a new rhythm.

Kirk’s fingers sank into the flesh of her bottom, pulling her down harder against him even while letting her set the pace.

Suddenly euphoria broke over her, shattering her with a force so strong that she cried out and collapsed onto Kirk’s chest. A heartbeat later, his own release stormed through him, a groan rumbling in his chest and his body shuddering.

Lillian spiraled downward gradually, the slowing thump of Kirk’s heart anchoring her back to earth. He tucked the cloak around both of them to keep out the cold air, then bound her to his chest in a tight embrace, his chin resting on the top of her head.

After a long silence broken only by their breathing, Lillian reluctantly lifted her head.

“What do we do now?”

She felt him tense, then exhale slowly.

“I dinnae ken,” he said at last, his voice soft and sad.

Wordlessly, they rose and began to gather their discarded garments. Lillian shivered as she shimmied back into her wet shift and gown. Once Kirk was clothed, he helped her with the ties on her dress, then draped the cloak around her once more.

The flash snowstorm had abated while they’d made love beneath the pine tree. Although the ground was still covered in slush, the heavy flakes from before no longer fell.

As Kirk helped her mount the waiting roan, Lillian wracked her brain for a way out of their bind. She still sensed that Kirk was keeping something from her. Whatever it was, it frightened him enough to believe that there was no alternative to turning her over to Richard’s killers.

Still, after what they’d just shared, she could not believe that he would be so heartless and cruel to stay his course. Lillian might be na?ve, but she knew in her heart that together, they could overcome whatever obstacles threatened.

So lost in thought was she as they rode in silence that she was surprised at how soon the outline of the crumbling abbey appeared through the shadowy trees.

Movement in front of the abbey snagged her gaze. Was it simply a trick of the eye, or a branch swaying overhead and causing the shadows to appear to move?

Lillian squinted into the gloomy night.

Her stomach plummeted. Nay, it wasn’t a trick or a mistake.

More than a dozen men on horseback swarmed in front of the abbey.

“Kirk—”

Before she could voice the warning, several men materialized from the trees around them. Kirk stiffened behind her, and suddenly he held a throwing dagger in each hand.

“Hold there, MacLeod.”

The velvety command came from a man amongst the group in front of the abbey. One shadowy figure separated himself and rode toward them. As he drew closer, his features grew distinct despite the weak, obscured moonlight.

The man was middling in age, though his hair was night-black—all except for one strip of silver-white that blazed from his right temple to the queue at his nape.

His sharp eyes were black pools as they locked on Lillian. A slow smile came to his lips, and a foreboding shiver raced down Lillian’s spine.

“Good to see you again, MacLeod,” the man said softly. “Now, let’s see this mission of yours completed, shall we?”