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Sex with Cam—potent as any magic.
As each successive wave dashed her under, he flipped her onto her back. Thrust into her again and again. Brutal. Angry. Staking a claim. The riptide of climax hit her fresh, and she bucked and cried out. He met her shout for shout, his whole body alive and quivering like a plucked chord.
Collapsing on top of her, his body and her body a tangle of limbs and heat and racing, pounding blood, she looked for regret. For guilt. For shame. And found only joy and a sweet satisfaction she’d not experienced since Edinburgh. All the better because this time she was Morgan. He was Cam.
No lies in bed between them.
They were alone together.
And complete.
Cam woke to darkness, but instead of a cold, empty room and a lonely bed, Morgan lay sprawled beside him, one hand thrown across his chest, her breath tickling his neck.
He pulled her close, resting his chin on top of her head. Savored the solid weight of her against him. No softness here. She had the lean muscles of a warrior. The curves of a courtesan.
Tracing her breasts, he felt himself go hard. He couldn’t get enough of her. Like with an addict, giving in only made the yearning that much greater.
She chuckled, her hand capturing him beneath the covers. Making every sense come to painful life. “Already?”
“Mmmm,” he grunted. “I’m like a starving man. Not sure when or if I’ll feast again.”
Her hand slid the length of him. The cool deftness of her fingers a little too sure. A little too tempting. She rested her head on one elbow. Looked down into his face.
In the purple, predawn shadows, her eyes glowed smoky bronze. Almost feral in the way they pinned him in place. Picked out every hidden thought.
With movements as fluid as a cat’s, she rolled herself on top of him, took him deep inside her.
He gasped, letting her control what came next.
She straddled him. Relaxed. Smiling. Infuriatingly unmoving. Closing her eyes, she withdrew until he wanted to scream in frustration, then slid home again, letting him fill every inch of her. Her neck muscles taut, her face delicious in its rapture.
He lay still while she rode him, caressing the long beauty of her torso, adjusting to this new and passionate Morgan. Then just like that, her inner muscles spasmed around him as she clutched his shoulders, dug her nails into his skin.
He came, exploding inside her, the mind-blowing crash of sensations like being struck by lightning.
He reached up, pushing the heavy braid back over her shoulder. How had he found someone so utterly perfect? And how had he managed to bungle it so incredibly? He wouldn’t look too hard. With the sun, his dream lover would vanish. He knew it. And he’d live with it. He had to.
Chapter 17
Using the honed skills of the hunter, Morgan slid into the house through the kitchen, snagging a biscuit from a tray on the worktable, Susan none the wiser as she banged her way through breakfast preparations. It was easier than facing the pointed looks and unspoken questions that marked every interaction with the housekeeper.
After last night, she probably didn’t need to ask. Every answer was clear on Morgan’s guilty face.
Crossing into the front rooms, she shook out her hair, drops curling cold and shivery down her neck. Wished for the hundredth time she’d not lost her treasured boat cloak in the fire.
Even though Morgan had awoken before dawn, Cam had been up before her, his side of the bed empty. Hoping to escape unnoticed, she’d crept from his room, down the stairs, and out into the cool, enveloping fog and rain.
Despite the gray, drizzly weather, she’d walked with no attention to direction or distance. Using the time to sort her scattered thoughts. To digest Cam’s revelations. To wrestle her time with him into the proper box.
A life with the Amhas-draoi? A life with Cam?
No competition.
She’d come too far. Worked too hard. She wouldn’t abandon her dream of a lifetime for one night’s passion. All right, a lot of nights of passion, but it still wasn’t enough to sway her.
Only when her stomach had begun growling and her sore muscles had grown wobbly did she turn her steps back toward the fashionable neighborhood of Cam’s town house.
The warmth of a fire drew her into the study, though she knew who’d be waiting. Avoiding Susan was one thing. Avoiding Cam was impossible. She might not like it, but she had to face him sooner or later. Get past the awkward morning-after conversation. The second such in as many weeks. How pathetic was that? All it took was Cam crooking a finger and she fell into sex with him—again.
