AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Benneit...’
Suddenly she felt his hand directly on her chilled skin, her chemise a damp tangle about her waist, his fingers splayed on her thighs as he raised her, pressing deep into her soft flesh. She tried to draw back, shocked by her own hunger, but his other hand was deep in her hair, his fingers splayed against her scalp as his mouth sank to her throat, suckling and sending unbearable shivers down her body like streaks of lightning—sharp and slashing. His lips followed their path, but when his breath swept over her breast it became unbearable and she squirmed, trying to meet or fight the crashing sensations. He did not let go, teasing her hardened nipple into a frenzy of pleasure with his lips and tongue and the subtle scrape and pressure of his teeth. Between the thud of surf below and the keening of a gull above she heard her own whimpers of need, as foreign as the sensations gathering inside her, beating at her nerves like the waves had beaten at her body. She wanted to act, but she could only cling to him as he unravelled her, afraid that if she let go she would plummet off a cliff of her own making.
‘Benneit...’
It was hardly more than an agonised moan, but she should have kept silent because he stopped, his hand burrowing deeper into her wet hair, his fingers twisting as he pulled her head back, his eyes narrowed and gleaming like one of the mythical beasts she imagined prowling the mountains high above the clouds. If she could have thought, she would have tried to shield herself from that gaze because surely he saw everything. Then his gaze shifted, moving slowly over her face, resting on her parted lips, making them throb harder. She felt his breath on the damp heat of their bruised surface, imagined the sting caused by her hair as the wind whipped it against his lean cheeks, as if she were taking part in the battle evident in every inch of the body pressed against hers, in the tension along the fingers that cradled her head, that were cupped over her bottom, holding her to him. Alfred had never touched her there, had even hesitated before his hands closed on her breasts, and she felt ashamed at how much she liked Benneit’s touch, his fingers pressing deep into her flesh there, how vivid and scorching the sensation of his mouth on her breast through the dampness of her chemise. How right it felt...he felt...
Her shudder became a moan, half of need and half of shame at the foreign forces beating inside her. He breathed in, his arms tightening and finally his head sank back to hers, but as his lips grazed hers with the impact of steel on steel he froze. Then she heard it, too.
‘Lochmore! Where are ye, lad?’
Angus’s voice carried above the sound of the surf and she pulled away, shocked and scared.
‘Angus, mac an diabhal,’ Benneit cursed in Gaelic, his voice as raw and shaky as she felt inside.
He picked up his coat from where it lay discarded, and draped it over her shoulders, closing it with one fist. He did not look at her as he spoke.
‘The guests must be arriving. I will go ahead and send Angus back and then you can slip in by the tower stairs.’
She stayed where she was as he disappeared up the path, hugging his coat to her. It smelled of him, warmth and musk and the sea. She shuddered, the cold reaching up from the ground straight into her heart and she pressed her face into the fabric to stop the tears.
‘Oh no.’
Her words were a whisper, but all her longing and the feeling of hopelessness were in those two syllables. She was not fool enough to read emotion into Benneit’s passion. Danger did odd things to men—even usually placid Alfred reacted strangely when she was once thrown from a horse—it had been the only time they had made love outside the bedroom and before bedtime. But then they reverted to the almost decorous ritual of coupling he had established on their wedding night—in bed, in the dark. She should not be fool enough to read anything into Benneit’s kiss.
She pressed her face into the soft folds of his coat to breathe the warmth of his scent, knowing the coat had a better chance of a future with him.
Oh God, but her heart ached.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It had to be done. And swiftly. Leaving a thorn in the flesh led to festering and rot. In a few short hours he must face his guests and his future. But right now he must face the consequences of his abject stupidity on the cliff path. He remembered all too well Mrs Langdale’s discomfort in the ballrooms of London. It would be unfair that the first time they met after his transgression would be in the Great Hall surrounded by all his guests. It might be easier for him, but it would be the coward’s way out.
