"What?" he asked.
"Naught," she breathed. "Just keep doing that."
And he did, he slid back in, deeper than before. The little female growl she uttered only made him harder. His next withdrawal and thrust was quicker.
She gasped. "Oh, aye. 'Tis amazing," she whispered.
She didn't have to tell him. He was already near crazy with the pleasure and the wanting. Of its own accord, his body moved faster. Long, deep thrusts. Aye, he wanted to claim every inch of her. She was his now, and that was final.
He captured her mouth and devoured it. He wanted her wrapped around every part of him. And she accepted him eagerly. He was thrilled to find her lustful greediness matched his own as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders.
Saints, he had never felt such a need to possess, take and give. Rising over her, he pulled her legs upward and pounded into her harder. His thrusts were almost violent. Teeth grinding together, jaw clenched, he hammered into her. She cried out his name, still begging him for more. Harder. And he gave. Finally, she screamed, her inner muscles squeezing him tightly, clutching onto him. He could endure no more. His climax blazed through him like a quick fiery fuse and then the explosion hit. Something beyond pleasure. Every inch of his body was on fire. He jerked, shoving even deeper into her, holding her still as he filled her. Aye, she was his. Forever.
He crashed to the bedroll beside her and drew her close in his arms. They both breathed hard, mouth to mouth.
"Anna." He cursed, not knowing what to say. There were no words to express the intensity of what he'd just felt.
"Aye, Neacal." Her slim arms surrounded him, held him tight. Her hands gently stroked the marred, tingling skin of his back. A giggle escaped her.
He pulled back to see her beaming.
"Oh heavens! That was astonishing," she said.
"Your smile is so beautiful," he murmured, kissing the corner of her grin.
"I feel like singing." Anna sat up, hardly able to keep her happiness under control. "Would you like that?"
Neacal lay on his side and shifted his gaze to the low-burning fire.
What had just happened? Her exuberance could hardly be contained within her body. She wanted to shout and sing from the mountaintops! But the sudden dimming of Neacal's expression ensnared her and squeezed the air from her excitement.
"What is wrong?" she asked him.
"Mayhap tomorrow. 'Tis late and we need to be as quiet as possible."
He was right of course. Disappointment overshadowed her just as it did every time he left the great hall during her performance. "You truly don't like my singing," she stated, knowing the truth now.
His gaze lifted, spearing her like sharp daggers. "I love it beyond words."
"Then why…?" She was afraid to ask.Why do you leave? Why do you pull away?
"Your singing… your lovely voice affects me in ways I don't understand." The words sounded wrenched and torn from him. He shook his head, hesitating, as if admitting something he didn't want to. "Sometimes your singing cuts to my soul and releases all sorts of demons. I feel as if a gale storm is ripping through me. So damned beautiful… there are no words."
"Oh." How was it possible that she could touch him so deeply? She felt humbled. He must have locked away his emotions since the torture. She supposed most anyone would in order to survive, otherwise the agony might overwhelm.
"It hurts, but it also heals and calms me." He dropped his gaze. "I'm sure you must think me insane."
"Not at all." She touched his face and his whiskers scratched her palm.
He placed his hand along the back of hers, turned his head and kissed her palm, his flame blue eyes meeting hers again. Her heart skipped a beat. Heavens, how could she guard her heart from him? She feared there was no avoiding falling for him. It had already happened.
When he drew her into his arms again, she went eagerly.
***
The next day, the wind blew colder and an icy rain hissed through the air. Neacal took a roundabout trek around the side of the mountain to gaze down toward the glen to see if any intruders approached. When he saw that none did, he returned to the cottage around noon. They ate the porridge Anna had cooked during his absence, then they bathed each other and made love well into the evening while the fresh pot of rabbit stew bubbled.
As they were eating the evening meal, Dunn scratched at the door, obviously smelling their food. Once he'd devoured his portion of the stew, he lay down contentedly by the fire-pit.
