Page 43 of Luthias

His big body shifted over hers as he drew out and then stroked back in. At first Luthias went slow, as if he were afraid he’d break her, which only tormented Emery more. She rolled her hips with every deep, slow thrust, welcoming them, wanting him, and squeezing his shaft with her softness each time he filled her.

“More,” she urged, her breasts heaving as she gripped his shoulders.

“You mean to drive me mad,” he muttered, mapping her face with his lips.

“Luthias.” Emery cradled his face and looked into his darkened eyes. “You’ve already given me your heart. I want the rest of you.”

A groan tore from his chest, and then he plunged into her, his big body moving over hers, out of control. He fucked her hard and fast and deep, so deep it made her whimper with shocked pleasure. The heat between them built to an inferno as it went on and on, their bodies growing damp and then slick with sweat. As the sunlight poured over them and the scent of the flowers and grass blended with the delicious musk of sex, Emery wrapped her arms around him and let herself go.

Bliss flooded her as she writhed on his cock, feeling him jerk and hearing him groan as he swelled and jetted his cream to wash her pleasure with his.

Luthias kissed her before he tucked his hot face against her neck, and Emery held him, feeling as she had never felt, completely drained and yet entirely filled with delight. This was how it should be, should always be, between a man and a woman. Yet as she looked up at the sky she knew no other man would ever make her feel this way again.

The laird gently disengaged their bodies before he turned on his back. His big hand curled over hers, tugging until she draped herself on top of him.

“This really wasn’t much of a reward,” Emery murmured as she listened to the heavy thud of his heart under her cheek. She would not cry again; she would remember how unbelievably lucky she was to have found him. “You should do more for me when we get back to the castle. It might take all week to reward me properly, you know. Or longer.”

His hand stroked over her damp hair. “Your bed, ’tis too small.”

“Give me a bigger one to sleep in as part of my reward, then.” She lifted her head and saw the worry as well as satisfaction in his half-closed eyes. He knows, Emery thought, how much trouble we’re in now. “Yours is nice and wide. I liked it better than the one in my room, actually. You probably have more feathers in your mattress, too, you being the laird and all.”

Luthias ran his fingertip over her bottom lip. “If you sleep with me, the clan, they’ll ken you’re my woman.”

“Too late to change your mind about that.” It hurt to think about leaving him, so she scooted up to give him a noisy kiss on the chin. “If anyone objects, just remind them that while I’m here you’re my protector. That’s a full-time job, right?”

He lifted her up a little more to kiss her lips. “They’ll say more than that.” He sighed. “I’ve never brought a woman to my bed.”

“What?” Emery pretended to be horrified. “You were a virgin, and you didn’t tell me?” As he laughed she gave him a stern look. “Oh, I definitely have to be your woman now. You need lots and lots of lessons.” As he tried to sit up she pushed him back down. “Stay right there. It’s time for another teaching session.”

“What mean you to teach me?” Luthias asked, and watched her turn her back toward him as she straddled his hips. “Ah, lass, what do you now?”

“You’re always staring at my bottom. Do that while I do this.” She wriggled into position, and clasped his swelling shaft with one hand as she brought the heavy dome between her thighs. “Just think of it as a little reward for you, too.”

In the castle that night, after making love for hours, Luthias held Emery until she fell into an exhausted sleep. He watched her in the darkness for a time before he slipped from his bed and dressed. He wanted to forget the rest of the world and stay in his chamber with her, where he could wallow in her love to his heart’s content. He imagined he would never leave the bed unless dragged from it; as a lover she had been everything he’d wanted and more. Even smelling her soft sweetness on his skin made his cock harden yet again.

But beyond his chamber door waited the clan.

Luthias banked the hearth before he made his way down to the great hall, where he saw Taveon sitting at a table reading scrolls. As the war master looked up and regarded him with an arched brow he felt an unwelcome twinge of conscience.

“You’re wounded.” The war master frowned. “Mistress Parker’s doing?”

“No. A boulder came down and smashed the path near the loch meadow,” he said, and related the details of the incident. “Emery learned I couldnae drown after she pulled me from the water.”

“So you told her all,” Taveon guessed, and when he reluctantly nodded he sighed. “Och, ’twas as I suspected. You’ve finally taken her to your bed and made her your woman. I would speak now as your brother, my lord, no’ as your war master.” Luthias knew what was coming, but nodded anyway. “She’s bright and lovely, and the clan adores her. Darach would kill for her, and I reckon so would I. Even Camdyn’s grown fond of the lass, and since the mess with that conniving wench you ken how he’s hated all females. Any man would happily love her.” He sat back and folded his arms. “Only you’re no’ just a man, you eejit.”

“Aye.” His halfling blood, his immortality, and his duty to the clan all stood between him and Emery, and there was nothing he could do about any of them. “I ken.”

Taveon glanced up at the Fire Sword in its crystal crypt. “If the sain brought her to save your life, according to the old legend, the hilt, ’twould alight and remain so until she made her wish. ’Tis yet dark. ’Twasnae her purpose.”

“She didnae come back for me.” He sat down across from him. “She came to save the clan.” He thought of her terror and fury after pulling him from the loch. “She’ll do well, Tav. Never I’ve ken anyone like her. She’s the heart of a warrior.”

“If she doesnae tear yours to pieces, my lord, I shall be happy.” He picked up one of the scrolls. “You should ken that the Tolmach now grudgingly agrees to end his betrothal without killing all of the MacAnvoys, so long as Ramsay keeps the pledges he’s made to him. Ailsa shallnae go to the nuns, and may remain happily unwed. No doubt she’ll die an old, soured crone cursing the Clan MacRoss to her grave.”

A sudden vision of Emery floundering in dark water with green lights glowing beneath her flashed in Luthias’s head, making him grip the table until the wood creaked.

“What bedevils you now?” Taveon asked.

As the horrifying image faded Luthias braced his head in his hands. “Naught. What of the intruder?”