Page 109 of A Touch So Wicked

Needing desperately to touch him, she rested her hand on his chest. The heat of him flowed into her palm and rushed to her pounding heart. He reacted spontaneously. Groaning, he reached for her, fitting her against him. Then he kissed her with a tenderness that rocked her. He tasted of rain and musk and desperation.

The threat of permanent separation gave a frantic edge to their clandestine tryst. Drunk with the taste of her lips, Damian kissed her again and again, binding them together from hips to chest. If this was the last time they would love, Damian wanted to savor it. Aware, however, that being found with Elissa could prove disastrous for both of them, he reluctantly broke off the kiss.

“I want to love you, sweeting. Give me this memory to take with me when we part.”

“Aye, Damian, I want that, too. I love you so much. No matter where you are or where I am, we will still be one in mind and soul.”

Expressing emotion was difficult for Damian, especially when he was mired in hopelessness, surrounded by it, consumed in it. But he put every part of himself, heart, body, and soul, into his kiss. She tasted like ecstasy and felt like bliss. When her hands tugged at his clothing, he quickly shed them, breaking contact with her lips only when he bent to remove his boots and trousers.

“I’ve missed you,” Damian whispered as he wrapped his arms tightly about her.

His hands slid over her bottom, gripping the rounded flesh beneath her nightdress, fitting her against him, his erection pressing hard against her lower belly. Dipping his head, he took one turgid nipple into his mouth, then the other, suckling each in turn, causing her hips to jerk against his in wanton abandon.

Murmuring hotly against her breast, he spread her thighs and slipped a finger inside her. She arched against the pressure, driving his finger deeper. His mouth descended slowly, kissing a trail of fire from her breasts to her woman’s cleft, nibbling gently on the peak hidden in the damp cluster of curls between her legs. Propelled by the earthy taste and scent of her, his tongue circled slowly around the sensitive nub, while his finger flexed deeper inside her.

Her fingers clutched frantically at the back of his neck. “Please. Now, Damian. I want you now.”

“Yes, now,” Damian muttered, as his tongue found her heated center and dipped inside. He lashed and taunted mercilessly, anchoring her hips as she bucked against him. He continued his loving torment until he felt her stiffen and shatter in his arms.

Once her tremors stopped, he rolled away and pulled her over him, easing her legs on either side of his hips. He rubbed his erection against her center, her damp heat anointing him with her essence. He groaned his approval when Elissa reached between them and guided him into place. He entered her slowly, at the same time raising his head to nibble at her swaying breasts. Sweat beaded his forehead as she pressed down on him, rising and plunging with a rhythm that set them both afire. He let her lead the way until he felt her sheath contract around him and she began to tremble, then he indulged his own raging need. Gripping her buttocks in his hands, he surged wetly into her one last time, pouring his passion inside her.

Her breath fragmented, Elissa rested her head against his shoulder and caressed his face with gentle fingertips. When Damian finally found the strength, he lifted her away and settled her into the curve of his body.

“I don’t want to leave you, sweeting.”

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she said on a shaky sigh. “Do you think we’ll ever be together again?”

“If there is a God, we will.”

Elissa remained silent for a long time. When she spoke, he heard the note of anxiety and cursed Kimbra for doing this to them.

“What about Mother and Lora? They won’t be safe in your household with Kimbra as your wife.”

“Trust me to keep them safe. I won’t let Kimbra rule my household no matter how hard she tries. Your family will have the choice of remaining at Misterly or joining you at the convent.”

A tense silence followed his words. “Is something wrong, Elissa?”

“Everything is wrong. I canna bear the thought of you making love to Kimbra. What we have together is special and not to be shared with anyone else.”

“On those rare occasions I’m forced to do my duty, it will not even come close to what I feel when I make love to you.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Perhaps I’ll not bed her at all.”

“Oh, Damian, I canna ask that of you. Donna make me that promise.”

“Elissa, I…”

She touched his lips. “Nay. Make love to me again. ’Tis all I ask of you.”

They came together again; their bittersweet passion was so intense, neither spoke for a long time afterward. When fingers of light poked through an overcast sky the color of wood smoke, Damian kissed Elissa one last time and reached for his clothes.

He dressed quickly in the predawn light, then sat down on the edge of the bed and kissed her tears away. “Don’t cry, love. Promise you’ll take care of yourself until we can be together again. If…when you leave the convent, and I’m sure you will, try to let me know where you’ll be so I can find you.”

“There is only one place I can go,” Elissa said. “To my cousin Christy Macdonald at Glenmoor. She’s wed to an Englishman, but they’ve been estranged since their marriage many years ago. If you hear that I left the convent, look for me at Glenmoor.”

“’Tis time,” Damian said regretfully.

Elissa rose and pulled on her nightdress. “Be careful.” She followed him to the window. An icy blast buffeted her as he swung open the shutters and placed a leg over the sill. He gave her another quick kiss, then disappeared. Elissa watched with trepidation as he lunged for the tree, grabbed onto a branch, and scampered down the trunk. When he reached the ground, he glanced up and blew her a kiss. Then he was gone.

Dashing away her tears, Elissa closed the shutters and returned to bed. Damian’s scent still clung to the bedclothes; she shut her eyes and imagined he was still beside her, comforted by his lingering aroma and surrounded by his love. She must have dozed, for when she opened her eyes, fingers of weak sunlight were filtering through the window.