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Irritation penetrated the passion-fil ed haze that engulfed her. When she glared at him, he laughed harder. “If you were any kind of gentleman, Rory MacLeod, you wouldn’t remind me of that night, especial y since you now know how it came about.”
“Aileanna, have I no’ told you I’m no gentleman when it comes to you. And I’m thinkin’ I should thank the fairies fer deliverin’ you to me naked.”
“That wasn’t the fairies’ doing, it was yours. You had my T-shirt off of me the minute I landed in your bed.” Heat tingled between her thighs at the memory, at the feel of him beside her.
“T-shirt? I doona’ ken what that is, but I ken I want you naked in my bed now.” Propping himself on an elbow, he skimmed his hand to the edge of her shift and slowly worked it over her hips, her breasts. She helped him as she had that first night, her arms trembling with eagerness as she raised them over her head. When she lay naked before him, he sucked in an appreciative breath. Ali’s cheeks heated as his intense gaze raked over her, and she tugged at the sheets to cover herself. He stopped her. “Nay, let me look at you.” He stroked his big, strong hand over her breasts to her bel y, the heat of his palm searing her to her core, fanning her desire. She had to see him— al of him—and ran her fingers along the front of his shirt. “It’s your turn now,” she mur mured as she tugged at the laces, revealing his broad, pow
erful y muscled chest. Trailing a finger along the puckered line of his scar, she lowered her head and pressed her lips to the mark she’d left on him. The banded muscles of his stomach contracted beneath her gentle kiss.
“Aileanna,” he groaned as her fingers moved lower to the thick bulge in his pants. “Are you certain yer no’ too sore?
What aboot yer foot?”
Concentrating on freeing him from the confines of his 208
pants, she barely registered his concern. Only when he took her hand to press her palm to his lips did she look up. He drew away from her to sit on the edge of the bed. She groaned in frustration. “What are you doing?”
Rory laughed as he tugged off his boots, dropping them to the floor. “I’m no’ leavin’ you, lass, of that you can be certain. I thought I might make a faster go of sheddin’ my clothes is al .” He stood, towering over her, the flickering flame of the candle accentuating the chiseled planes of his face. Rory looked terrifyingly big and powerful as he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it onto the trunk at the end of the bed. Mesmerized, she watched as he peeled off his pants. He was huge and hard, and her experience was limited. It had been important for her to wait until the right man came along. She thought she had. There had been only Drew, but he was nothing compared to Rory. She regretted not having waited, because the only man who would ever be right for her stood before her now in al his rugged, naked glory. Entranced by his beauty, Ali couldn’t pul her eyes away, not until she heard a low rumble of laughter. She lifted her gaze to his, and his emerald eyes gleamed with amuse ment. Ali grabbed a pil ow and threw it at him. “You’re so ful of yourself.”
Laughing, Rory caught the pil ow, then lay down at her side, his amusement fading as he crushed her soft body to his. His cock, pressed to the curve of her bel y, throbbed. He shuddered when her long, delicate fingers encircled him. “Careful, lass, or this wil na’ last long.”
“No?” She smiled, sliding her hand along his shaft.
“Nay.” Rory could barely rasp the word out before he slanted his mouth over her soft pliant lips. He fil ed her mouth with his tongue. Teasing, tasting, he kissed her with a growing urgency. He struggled to hold back his need to take her, to claim her with one savage thrust.
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Ali increased her rhythmic stroking of his cock, and he groaned, certain he would spil his seed like an untried lad if she continued. He stil ed her hand, nudging her thighs apart with his knee. She whimpered. He raised his head, concerned by the soft, desperate sound. “Did I hurt you, Aileanna?”
Passion-glazed violet eyes focused on him. “No . . . no, I want . . . I need you to touch me.”
“You want me to touch you, mo chridhe, like this?” He stroked the silky curls at the juncture of her thighs. She raised her hips. “Yes,” she moaned. “More.”
Her passionate response enflamed his desire. Aileanna was everything and more than he had imagined. He watched the play of emotions on her beautiful face as he stroked her moist core, dipping his fingers into her velvet heat, the desire to taste every glorious inch of her lithe body outweighed by his al -consuming need to be inside her, to make her his.
She writhed beneath him. “Rory, now, please,” she gasped.
Careful y he entered her, his restraint causing the mus
cles of his arms to quiver in protest as he held himself above her. Her eyes slid closed, her head tipped back, and soft moans of pleasure escaped her parted lips when he thrust inside. At the sound of her wanton cries his cock swel ed even more. He fil ed her to the hilt, savoring the feel of her inner muscles tightening around him. He moved inside her tight, wet sheath with slow, deep thrusts. The wanton look upon her face, her lush curves and puckered nipples rubbing against his chest, brought him to the edge of his control. No longer able to take it slow and easy like he wanted, he plunged in and out of her, hard and fast. Certain he could withstand it no longer, he reached between them and touched her swol en nub, 210
stroking. She bucked beneath him, crying out at the same time he found his release and fil ed her with his seed. Rory smothered her cries with his mouth, deepening the kiss as he rol ed careful y to his side, shifting his weight from her body. His cock jerked inside her and he cupped her firm behind with his hands, pressing her against him to thrust one last time. “The next time we’l take it slow, mo chridhe,” he murmured against her lips, brushing her tangled hair from her face. She snuggled into his chest, and nodded her assent. “I doona’ think I wil ever get enough of you, Aileanna. You’ve bewitched me.” Some
thing inside of him froze at the truth of the words that slipped unbidden past his lips. Fear skirted the edge of
