Page 79 of Dark Seduction

Wake up, Claire. I need ye. Wake up…

He felt her stirring, he felt her shock. Malcolm inhaled hard. The need to bring her close and take power from her consuming. He tracked her with his mind as she stumbled from the bed. But something was stirring elsewhere, in his chest, his heart. A memory…

Whatever it was, he ignored it.

I be hurt. They ha’ locked me up. When I come into yer body, ye will save me. Claire.

He felt her listening now. She was hearing him and that was good. He strained his senses and felt her desperation and then he felt her heat. He smiled. She was getting ready for him. His loins stiffened in anticipation and his heart began a new, stronger beat.

The memory tickled his mind now.

He didn’t want memories; he only wanted her body, her life.

Find me, lass. I be waitin’.

She did not answer but he knew she had heard. He reached down and touched himself so he would be ready when she came.

Where are you?

Malcolm smiled, savagely pleased. Claire. Upstairs. Above you.

And he could see her now, two stories below, wrenching at the locked door of her chamber. She was only wearing that tiny chemise and the rag and her boots. Lust consumed him, as did impatience. He throbbed greedily now. He could literally taste her power, as he’d wanted to for so long. And his heart beat swiftly, too swiftly.

I dinna mind if ye love me, lass.

You are so arrogant!

Malcolm moaned. If he allowed himself this luxury, he would fight his need—and he would die. He closed his eyes, sweating, tasting what would soon be his, salivating, until his heart ceased all protest. His loins raged.

Le Puissance. There would be so much life and power, and rapture, unbelievable rapture.

Hurry, lass.

She was coming up the stairs. She was close now, just outside the locked door, and his heart shrieked at him. He cared for her.

Images danced in his mind. Claire arguing with him, a woman who did not need her king. Claire clad only in the tiny beaded string. Claire posed to throw a rock at a Deamhan.

He moaned again. The memories should have dulled his lust, but instead, the urge to taste her power consumed him. She was a woman like no other. The distance between them was a hurdle but he somehow grasped on to her life, barely, and pulled power from her.

His veins swelled with hot force and a wave of terrible pleasure began to build. Breathing hard, so swollen it hurt, he turned his head and focused on her as she worked to break the lock.

She was frantic for their union. He felt her lust dripping on her thighs. She wanted to come. He pulled on her life again. Power. Strength. Manhood. Triumph began. He needed to come inside her and take even more from her…

The door burst open.

He pulled at her power, engorging even more fully as the rush of life came into his veins, growing. The wave of pleasure threatened to crest, break. He stared, slowly sitting up. Aye, he cared for her, but it was too late.

For she stood there, shaking and panting, swollen and wet.

“Come, Claire.”

Claire stumbled forward. He managed to stand. She caught him, wrapping her arms around him, and instantly he pushed between her thighs, his mouth tearing at hers, and he felt her tears falling, filled with gratitude.

“Lass,” he gasped, holding her in a viselike grasp. He flung his head back and began urgently taking her life, as hard and fast as he could.

So much power came. He swelled with it. And the wave broke. He howled his pleasure, pulling her down, thrusting deep into hot, wet flesh. She sobbed with her pleasure and so did he, the rapture escalating a hundredfold. It was blinding.

“Ye taste good.”