Page 66 of Sins of the Highlander

“Oh, aye?” She walked her fingers up and down his length and was rewarded by the way a muscle ticked in Rob’s cheek. “He, is it? Does he have a name?”

“Plenty of names, but none fit for polite company.”

She stroked him again, enjoying the smoothness and warmth of the skin drawn taut over his granite-hard length. “If he has a mind of his own, he needs a name of his own.”

“He’s what ye might call single-minded. With only one thought generally, and a verra simple means of expression.”

“Then a simple name is needed.” She trailed her fingertips around his balls and then traced the line of darker skin that marked the centerline of his scrotum. “What is Rob short for?”

“Robin,” he said through clenched teeth.

She found a patch of rougher skin near the head. A pearl of fluid formed at the tip of him when she teased that spot. “Then we’ll call him Robin.”

“He’ll no’ answer to it.”

“Mayhap he needs training.” She grasped him with firmness.

Rob’s breath hissed over his teeth. “He’s fearsome stubborn. There’s only one thing that’ll vanquish him.”

“What’s that?”

He grasped her wrist so she was forced to look at his face instead of his cock. “Ye dinna have any idea what ye’re playing with. A good hard swive is all he understands.”

She leaned down and kissed Rob’s lips, his cheeks, his closed eyes.

“Then that’s what we’ll have to do.”

Chapter 22

Rob sat up and gathered her into his arms. “Elspeth, leannán, I gave ye pleasure because it pleased me to do it. And with no lasting harm to ye. But this is something that, once done, canna be undone. D’ye ken that?”

She palmed his cheek and looked through his deep blue eyes to his troubled soul. She loved this man. She was sure of it. Why would she not offer him the comfort of her body?

“Aye, Rob,” she said. “I ken what I’m doing.”

“Ye only think ye do.”

His voice was drawn and tight. She sensed him struggling with himself. A thrill of power swept over her. Who could have thought she’d bring her captor to such a state of indecision?

“Ye canna say ye dinna want me.” She brushed a hand against his groin.

“No, I canna say that.”

His eyes went dark and luminous as he looked at her. She peered once more into the well of his soul and was satisfied. He would not see her shamed. She could trust him with anything. Even herself.

“As much as ye want me, Rob, I want ye back.”

“Oh, lass—” He interrupted himself to kiss her.

Elspeth realized he’d been holding back in his previous kisses. The longing in this kiss stole her breath. The deep sadness she’d sensed in him the very first time he kissed her returned and threatened to overwhelm her. That time she’d Seen a fleeting image of Fiona MacLaren.

Did Rob think on his lovely redheaded wife while his lips played with hers?

She tried to open herself to her Gift, to move out of its way, as Hepzibah had suggested, so she might discover whether Fiona MacLaren still hovered in his heart. But her senses were so overflowing with Rob, there was no room for her Gift to fill. He crowded out everything else.

She longed to do the same for him, to so fill up his soul there’d be no room for sadness.

But how? She matched him kiss for kiss, and he seemed to enjoy it when she stroked him, but she had no idea how to really please a man.