Chapter Eighteen

"I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire. These violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume."

William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Rory's words coiled through Sara, pushing her fear of rejection underneath to be trampled like in a wild stampede. All concerns about her marks were forgotten there in the dark, the world shut out. The tempest beating at their shelter was a mirror to the tempest swirling within her. Only the heat, the pooling ache, mattered.

"Show me these dreams, Rory," she said. "Make me thrash."

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a full breath. He looked like a chained beast, his honor keeping him back.

Heart hammering, Sara slid off the table to stand before him. "Teach me to rut with you in those ways and to taste you."

"Sara," he groaned.

She lifted his fisted hand and worked the fingers open, laying his palm over her thudding heart. Only the passion in his intense gaze kept her brazen. She slid his palm down from her heart to her breast. She wanted him too much to care about propriety.

With a groan much like a growl, his mouth dropped to hers, capturing her words and lips. Tunic off, Sara's hands rose to clasp his wide shoulders, stroking down to his granite biceps. Her mouth opened under his, and their kiss turned wild, burning away the rest of the world.

She shivered, and Rory broke the kiss, pulling her to stand before the fire. "Ye need to be rid of these wet clothes," he said. She agreed but worry about him seeing her sent an icicle through her heat. But he wouldn't see her mark in the inky darkness.

Slowly, she wriggled out of the jacket and began to unlace the ties of her bodice. Rory kissed her again, his fingers replacing hers as he tugged her bodice open. She lost herself in the warmth of his kiss, the damp smell of him from the rain and the spice that was uniquely Rory. The ties of her petticoats loosened, and she felt the wet layers fall away. Rain heavy, they thumped on the ground, pooled around her feet. He broke the kiss to lift her out of them to set her on a flat rock embedded in the dirt right before the fire. He snatched up her clothes, laying them over the table to dry.

The muscles of his bare back moved with reserved strength under the scars from his time at Carlisle. Seeing them made her blink past an ache in her eyes. Perhaps…he might understand her own marks, her shame.

When he turned back, he paused, taking her in before the fire. The light shone around her, warming her back nearly to burning. Her fingers rose, and she plucked the ties of her stays, loosening them until the contraption slid down her hips to the dirt floor.

"Ye're lovely, lass," he said, staring at her.

She worked off her soaked boots and then slowly untied the bow at the top of her smock to widen the neckline. Sara lowered the edge of the smock until her breasts came out into view, her nipples like rosy pebbles in the light of the fire. The chill of the room and Rory's ravenous look made them pearl tighter, and her hand rose to cup one, lifting it.

Rory murmured low, something that sounded like reverence, and quickly unbuckled the belt holding his wrap around his narrow hips. The pleated fabric dropped to the dirt floor. The fire shone on his glorious body, his powerful erection against his abdomen. Lines cut like a V across his lower abdomen under the ridges of stomach muscles as if pointing to the base of his cock. He was glorious.

He moved to stand before her and cupped her cheeks. "I want ye with every ounce of my blood, lass. But one word from ye, and I'll step away."

"I only want you to step closer," she said. Her words were meant to tease, but the emotions running through Sara were too intense for anything light. Wind and rain slashed about the tower as if trying to get inside to them. She could barely hear it over the thudding of her heart.

He lowered back to her lips, kissing her with such intensity, Sara felt the inferno inside her sliding down to her abdomen and between her legs. He kissed a path along her jaw to her ear. "Ye are fire, Sara," he said.

"And I'm burning for you, Rory." Her hands sloped down his back to his naked arse, making him groan low, a vibration coming up from deep within him like a crypt being wedged open.

Behind her, Lily snorted, reminding Sara that they were down with the horses. She must have stiffened because Rory cursed. Without a word, he picked Sara up. Her smock was around her waist as he traipsed across the dirt floor, leaving the fire behind as he climbed with her up the stone steps to the rooms above.

Blood surged through Rory as he strode with Sara along the upstairs corridor lit by a single torch he'd left up in a sconce. He paused, unsure where to go. The comfortable bed with the bird or into a dark room without a bed?

"Daingead," he said, striding into an empty room. He set Sara's stockinged feet down. "I'll be right back."

…

Naked, Rory ran out of the room and into the bedchamber. The bird in the corner startled, its wings flapping. Ignoring it, his muscles bunched as he yanked the heavy down tick off the bed and dragged it along the floor, its blankets still hanging onto it.

He pulled it through the door of the other room. "Sara?" he said, unable to see her in the shadows. The sconce flickered in the corridor, its light barely reaching inside.

"I'm here," she said.

He dropped the mattress near the glass-paned window. Lightning lit the room, and he saw Sara standing for a second, but the image would be etched into his mind forever. Naked except for her tall, gartered stockings, her body had been lit with silver light. She was curved and soft, her breasts full and her hips flared. Her hair was drying into waves that reached down to her hips.

A carnal fire washed through him, and he strode to her, taking Sara into his arms. "Ye're cold." He pressed her against his warm body.

"Only on the outside."

He wrapped around her, feeling her stomach slide against his stiff cock. He groaned, keeping her before him as he guided them to the mattress on the floor. "Privacy and comfort," he said as they tumbled into the sheets and blankets that he'd left the last time he'd been there.

She turned immediately into him, her leg hitching over his hip to bring the crux of her legs against him. "Mon diah," he said, lifting under her round arse to slide her along his length. She moaned, and he knew he'd found her sensitive nub.

"I ache," she said, moving along his leg.

A brilliant flash of lightning from the window lit Sara's face, her eyes half open and her lips parted as if she already felt ecstasy.

"Ye're exquisite." He pushed her back into the soft mattress, his hand sliding down the length of her body. His fingers moved between her shifting legs, and she thrust toward them. He moved over her mound, lower until he found the wet heat he was hunting, sliding in as she moaned. Fingers exploring and stroking, he listened in the darkness as her breathing quickened. She moved with his hand as if they were mating, and his cock throbbed, begging to replace his fingers.

She was an angel, a goddess, and his gaze fastened onto the lovely face he could make out in the dark. Lightning struck outside, a crack that lit the room. Her head was thrown back, exposing her long pale neck, and he froze as the image of a dark slash seemed to cross it.

"Nay." He pulled his hand from her heat.

"No," she said on a gasp.

He hugged her to him, taking in big inhales to wrestle control back from the lusting fire burning away his thoughts. "Sara, lass. I cannot… I made a vow."

Her breathing was as labored as his. "A vow? Like a priest?"

"A vow to look out for my clan above all else."

"And lying with me would jeopardize your vow?"

"Something like that." Fok! I can just bed her. It doesn't have to mean anything.

"I don't understand."

His thumb found her cheek in the dark and slid across it. "I can't think straight lying naked in the dark with ye."

"Then don't think. Feel."

Rory jerked when he felt her cool fingers wrap around his straining cock. The sensation was an added spark to the inferno already smoldering within him. Vows turned to ash as her hand moved up and down his length, clasping him like her body would. But he craved the warmth of her inside.

"Do you like that?"

With a lamenting groan, he threw off the shackles of his conscience and leaned down, kissing her open mouth. The smell of Sara, the heat of her against him, the smooth feel of her skin… He only wanted to revel in it.

"Feel how wet I am," she rasped against his mouth as she continued to stroke him with one hand.

He dipped his face to her nipple, sucking it into his hungry mouth, his teeth grazing the peak. She moaned loudly as if unafraid for anyone to hear. There was no one there to hear, to judge him, to haunt him. His hand moved back to her mound, only to find her own fingers there, rubbing the outside.

"Aye, lass," he groaned as he imagined the sight of her pleasuring herself. He'd make sure to watch her when they had light. His fingers entered her again, and she whimpered, her body clenching around him.

Thunder boomed, imitating his throbbing. He wanted to make her as frenzied as him, so he continued to suckle and nibble her breasts while he worked her flesh inside. Rising back to her panting mouth, he kissed her and whispered, "I want to taste yer heat."

"My heat," she breathed.

Rory moved his knee between her legs. He almost spilled himself right there, and he took a few breaths to rein in control.

He moved down the bed, hovering over Sara's shifting body. In the low light he could see her fingers moving over her crux. Kissing a path up her soft inner thighs, Rory inhaled the musk of her woman's scent. "Aye." He dipped in to taste her. She gasped above him in the dark as he loved her with his mouth, and then his fingers. Rory lost his mind to the animal part of him, smelling her desire, listening to her moans.

Her fingers wrapped in his hair, and he imagined the picture she must present with her head thrown back against the pillows as he loved her. "Oh God, yes!" she yelled, and he felt her core contract around his fingers.

Before any other thoughts could overtake him, he slid up her body. He lifted under her sweet arse, spreading her wide. She was so open to him, and he pressed the head of his cock to her heat. She gasped as he thrust into her.

He groaned at the wet heat surrounding him, reveling in the feel of her tight body still clenching from her first release. He braced his arms around her head. Breathing heavily, he kissed her jawline over to her ear. "Does it…hurt?" he asked, willing himself to remain still, holding her there imprisoned in his embrace, impaled into the bed. He'd never taken a virgin before.

"No." She pushed her pelvis against him and reached around to squeeze his arse as she ground into him. He withdrew, thrusting back into her willing body. She cried out with open-mouthed pleasure, loudly enough to be heard over the thunder. In and out, he thrust. Her fingernails, scoring his back, added more spark to the blazing fire within him.

Her moans grew louder until once again he felt her fly apart. With another deep growl, he joined her over the edge of reason, spilling within her.