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Isabella nodded. “I do understand. Sometimes, we just know.”
“Aye. So I brought him here to Padraig. I’d been a wanderer up until then. I’d had a bad few years. My lassie, my love, had passed on, and Damian gave me a reason to live again. I hadn’t worked in a while, but I knew I had to find some way to provide for my bairn. I knocked on Merlina’s door one night, and as you Yanks say, the rest is history.”
“Did you ever try to find Damian’s family?”
“I had good intentions, I did. But the lad crept into my heart so quickly. I would never have been able to give him up. And anyone who’d leave a newborn babe in an alley didn’t deserve him, as far as I was concerned.”
Isabella nodded. “I’d agree. You’re no doubt the best thing that ever happened to him.”
Dougal smiled and shook his head. “Not I, lass.” He gestured toward the two young lovers laughing together on the grass. “The best thing to ever happen to him is your cousin.”
33
Damian rose from the bed, the light of dawn streaking in through the window. Beautiful, his Padraig. The fresh hilly countryside. He turned toward the bed. The beauty of his village paled next to his Suzanne. Her curvy body lay tangled in the sheets. Memories of their night of lovemaking assaulted his senses. The warm glow of her skin, like silk under his fingers. The heady scent of her shiny hair, veiling him as she lay on top of him, her mouth on his. The creamy taste of her cunt on his tongue. The caress of her eyes as she gazed at his body. The sweet tightness of her walls around his cock. Her sexy laugh. His name dripping from her lips, like a hot surging whisper against his flesh.
He was hard for her again. He would never get enough of her. He longed to wake her and plunge into her body. But the peaceful aura of her sleeping body overpowered his need. She was an angel. His angel. He couldn’t disturb her.
He smiled as he thought about the day ahead of them. They would ride the Harley into Thurso. She had asked him to take her to get a tattoo. Her first. She wanted a wolf, like his but smaller, on her lower back.
And he had a surprise in store for her. He was going to have her name tattooed on his arm. He’d be marked forever. Hers. Always. He felt like howling his possession to the world.
His loins tightened as she stirred. Her crimson lips curled upward slightly and she sighed, her eyes still closed. “Mmm. Damian.”
He sat down on the bed. “I’m here, mo leannan.” He feathered his fingers over her satiny cheek.
“Mmm,” she said again and rolled toward him. “Love me.”
“I do, Suzanne.”
She smiled, her dimples appearing on her beautiful cheeks, and his heart leaped.
Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “Mo leannan,” he whispered.
“Mo leannan,” she whispered back. “Love me, Damian.”
He covered her body with his, nudged her thighs open, and settled between them. “Open your eyes, mo leannan, and look at me.”
Her lashes fluttered, and Damian drowned in the night fog, the golden sparks. So beautiful. He pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. He trailed his mouth down her neck and shoulders, over the delicious mounds of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over one cherry red nipple. Suzanne arched beneath him, murmuring the sexy sounds he loved. He licked her again and then captured the swollen bud between his teeth and tugged gently. He never tired of the sugary taste of her nipples. He laved and sucked, fueled by her sexy moans.
“So beautiful,” he murmured. “All mine.”
He turned to her other nipple and lavished it with attention while one hand reached between her legs. “Wet, mo leannan. Wet for me.”
“For you,” she whispered as her hips gyrated up and down against his searching fingers.
He slid two inside her and rubbed, finding the spot that drove her over the edge.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Just like that.”
He tore his lips from her nipple and found her mouth, sweet as blueberry wine, and plunged his cock into her body. “Ah,” he groaned. Each time was better than the last. Each time, she was a more perfect fit. He thrust only twice before they both toppled into rapture together, climaxing in tandem, their spasms in total synchrony.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Later, he wrapped her in his arms and whispered into her ear. “Each time, I want you more, mo leannan. We’ve just made love, and already I’m wanting to touch you again, feel your heart beat against my flesh, bury myself inside your warmth. I can’t get enough of you. Your taste. Your smell. Why, mo leannan? Why is it like this?”
