Page 52 of Leila’s Legacy

He shifted so their pelvises were directly against one another, and his weight was braced over her with his left arm. His heartbeat thrummed erratically in his chest. He removed his hand from between them and used it to guide his cock to the warm heat of her entrance. Excitement and anticipation quivered low in his belly. He wanted this, needed this. Needed her.

Leila’s full lips parted, and she gave another frustrated whimper.

He guided himself carefully into her, just a bit at first. The grip around him was a tease, encouraging him to plunge himself fully into her sheath, to let it wrap and squeeze around him. His muscles shook with the force of his control. He paused at the delicate barrier within her.

He’d never been with a virgin. He’d never wanted one. But he knew what he had to do, and he knew it would cause a pain within Leila. His heart caught, but she nodded, her chin set with defiance.

His brave, beautiful Leila.

He released his hold on his cock and slid his hand over hers, letting their fingers interlock against one another as he nudged past her maidenhead. She blinked in surprise and the muscles of her neck tensed.

“Forgive me, mo chridhe.” He nuzzled her lips with his own and flexed his pelvis forward, going slightly deeper.

Her brow flinched and she lifted her hips to meet him. He opened his mouth to tell her what she did was not necessary, but she kissed him hungrily and drew him toward her with her arms.

He eased out of her slightly before easing back in, his movements slow and careful. His back ached with his restraint even as he entered her again until their pelvises were pressed against one another. He ground his teeth and held himself there for a moment, letting her get used to the sensation of him fully filling her. She was so damn tight, it nearly hurt. The breath panted from his lungs as he began to move within her, slowly at first, then faster.

Leila’s eyes closed with pleasure and a quiet moan sounded in the back of her throat. A groan tore from somewhere deep in Niall’s chest at her enjoyment. This was what he’d wanted, their mutual pleasure. Suddenly, the squeezing grip around him was no longer painful, but euphoric; his muscles no longer tense, but gliding with ease along with hers as they arched and moved against one another.

Heat tingled through him and his bollocks tightened with the temptation to release. He angled his hips over hers to ensure he rubbed at the bud between her legs with each push and increased his tempo. The change in pitch of her moans told him he succeeded in hitting just the right spot.

She clung to his shoulders as he thrust. Her center squeezed at him and began to tense. He gripped her hips and drove into her as she cried out. Pleasure melted over Niall as his own release took him with greedy, hot spasms of bliss.

Muscles shaking, breath panting, he lowered himself to the side of her so as not to crush her and held her as their frantic heartbeats slowly calmed. She nuzzled against his chest and distributed featherlight kisses across his skin.

“I dinna hurt ye?” he asked.

She grinned up at him. “It was even better than what I had expected from my vis—” She stopped short of saying the full word.

Her visions. And he knew why. Their love was not the only vision she’d had of him.

“I willna ever hurt ye.” He stroked a lock of hair from her sweaty brow. “I’ll no’ ever kill ye, to be sure. They’d have to cut out my own heart to make it so.” He said it with all the power and conviction in his soul.

Nothing could make him hurt Leila.

She tucked her body closer against him. Five white dots were evident on her shoulder. He ran his fingers over them and quickly withdrew his hand. The spots were cold as ice. “What is this?”

“When I was ill with the pestilence, Death came for me,” she replied against his chest. “But he knew he could not have me yet and so he left me with this reminder.” A shiver wracked her slender body and left her skin prickled with chills.

He leaned back to regard her. “Death?”

“My visions are seldom pleasant.” Her gaze slid away. “’Tis the only time one left a mark between the world of seeing and the world I live in.”

“And these?” he let his fingertips skim over the large white scars on her arm and just below her breast.

“Aren’t women supposed to ask men about their scars and not the opposite?” She lifted her brows at him.

He chuckled lightly. “Ye can go over my whole body later, if it pleases ye to do so.”

“I believe I may be tempted to make good on such an offer.” She let her gaze wander down him in a way that made his cock stir from its languid state.

“Arrows.” She brushed her fingers over the scar at her arm. “We were being attacked at Mabrick Castle when I was a girl. I had a vision that my sister, Anice, would be struck.”

“Ye put yerself in front of her?” Niall settled his fingertip in the dent of the puckered wound. Arrows were nasty things. There was no simply pulling them free. The tips were attached to the shaft with a bit of wax, so the head broke off when the shaft was tugged. The only way to get the remaining tip out was with a scooping instrument. The process was messy, painful and left behind deep scars.

And Leila had been only a girl.

“It was the only time I was able to change what I saw,” she said.

His head snapped up. “Ye can change it?”

She gave a discouraged shake of her head. “It hasn’t happened since.”

“But it doesna mean it’s impossible.” Hope lit through Niall.

His will was stronger than any damn vision. He would do anything to keep Leila safe, including defying the future. And it would all start with approaching Lord Armstrong and declaring Leila innocent.