Page 78 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

He did not stop until he was nearly all the way out of her. Then, he brought her back down. Her head fell forward, the sensation so intense that it seemed to catch in her throat. Only one move and her toes were curling in her shoes; her mind felt mashed.

Cameron worked up his rhythm steadily. It may have been dark, but she could feel the way that his eyes were glued to her face. Somewhere in the back of her mind where coherent thoughts were still being generated and put to the side for later, she realized that he was memorizing her reactions.

Leaning forward to kiss her again, he consumed her from all sides. As he changed their positions so he could gyrate into her, one of his hands began to roam. She whimpered into the kiss, overwhelmed, when he squeezed her breast. Her hips stuttered uselessly as his tongue swiped into her mouth.

A sensation that was almost like the one she’d experienced when he had touched her before the ceilidh began to build in her gut. That felt like a lifetime ago, like that Margo had been a different person. Now, with Cameron deep inside her, stretching her and pressing against nerve endings that she did not know she possessed, she felt as though she had unlocked another, completely new side of her.

“I can feel the way ye respond to me,” he said, kissing his way along her jawline up to her earlobe.

She cried out when he nipped at it, quickly biting her tongue lest the guards riding alongside the carriage hear her. Ecstasy clawed at the edges of her vision. Her belly tightened, the feeling stretching down the back of her thighs and licking at the soles of her feet.

“Cameron!” she gasped urgently when she was sure she was not about to yell at the top of her lungs. “I think, I⁠—”

“I ken,” he growled, sounding as if he were toeing the line of his own pleasure too. “I can feel it, Margo, ye… Ach, ye’re close, arenae ye?”

He was trying to sound as if he were teasing, but he sounded so close to ruin. She did not know that his voice nor the knowledge that she was the reason for it would be so erotic. It seemed to intensify the feeling building inside of her, bringing her right to her peak.

She teetered on the precipice, sounds that didn’t reach her ears falling from her lips. Her own senses were focused on Cameron. There was a slight furrow to his brow that she had only seen when he was very focused. His breath came in growling huffs, the primal noise raising gooseflesh on her arms.

“Let go for me, Margo,” he commanded, his tone dipping impossibly lower. “Let me feel how much ye want me.”

Before the last of his directive had even left his mouth, her body was plunging off the edge. Her hands scrambled for purchase, one of them finding his long hair while the other gripped tight to the fabric of his jacket. He was the only thing keeping her in her body, letting her experience the swirling whirlwind of sensation.

“That’s it, lass,” Cameron grunted, his own composure completely frayed at the edges. “Let me hear ye.”

His thrusts were wild now. Her pleasure edged closer to overstimulation; the first slight suggestions of pain prickled at the back of her knees. When her hand tightened in his hair in response, a feral snarl reverberated between them. A punched-out noise followed, then his grip got even tighter.

As she was pulled against him so tightly that she was sure the two of them would never be able to be separated again, the thrusting stopped, and she felt his release inside her. His lips left a smattering of kisses everywhere they could reach. At the same time that he crested the wave of his climax, the carriage rocked, simulating a final thrust that made both of them groan with a final, strong pulse of their orgasms.

Margo collapsed against Cameron, trusting him to keep her from falling to the floor as the wheels steadied themselves. Despite the chill surrounding them, a fine layer of sweat had settled over her forehead. She nuzzled into his neck, not bothering to get off of his lap just yet.

“I am so glad you came to my rescue,” she whispered against his pine-scented skin. “And I do not just mean tonight.”

Camerone paused, his mind seemingly caught on the breadth of her gratitude. When he finally spoke again, his hand pushed her tousled hair away from her temple. “I would do it again. Over and over.”

She stayed close to him for a few more breaths, feeling him soften inside her. Even though she knew she could have this whenever she wanted now, this closeness was so novel and comforting that she considered spending the rest of the ride here. Finally, the stiffness in her knees won out, and she shifted.

Cameron helped her, though he seemed just as reluctant as she was to break the connection. At the loss, an involuntary whine left her mouth. Beneath her, he smirked before fixing her skirt, making it lie just so.

“We will be back at Castle MacLeod soon,” he told her as he adjusted himself. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her against his side. “Ye should get as much rest as ye can.”

Margo hummed, laying her head against his shoulder and letting her eyes fall closed. Sated and profoundly tired, she let herself drift in the world between sleep and wakefulness. All the while, she absorbed his warmth when the pre-dawn chill slowly encroached on their little bubble protecting them from the world outside.

EPILOGUE

Cameron’s hand lingered on Margo’s forehead, brushing her sleep-mused hair from her face. It was late morning, nearly time for lunch. He did not have it in his heart to wake her, not when her cheek was still red, a bruise that would take more than a few days to fade.

“Daenae wake her,” Cameron said to Miss Crusoe as she approached with Friday in her shadow. “She needs all the rest she can get.”

The kitten tilted her head to the side, blinking slowly as if to say that she understood what he was asking of her. Then, when she stretched her body out, her little paw tapping against a wrinkle on the comforter, she told him that, without a doubt, she would not be listening. When Friday hunkered down, his little rump shaking back and forth, Cameron scooped him up and put him on the ground.

“Wait until she gets up on her own for yer antics,” he chastised, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop the animals.

Leaving the room, he stopped for a long moment, letting his gaze linger on Margo’s sleeping form. Though they had shared the bed the last several nights since returning from the ceilidh and her father’s lands, it still felt hard to believe that she was really here. That she was choosing to be here.

As he finally slipped away, quietly latching the door, he braced himself for the meeting with his Council. It felt as if he had done nothing but collaborate with them since returning. Much of it was Margo’s insistence, wanting to assist in planning the use of her inheritance. When she had told him she wanted to give back to Clan MacLeod, she had meant it.

I’m surprised she dinnae wake up and demand I bring her with me to this.