Lured to the Night (The Brotherhood 4)

He opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut. Frustration flared. “Do not speak for me, Isla,” he said trying to control the anger her comment had roused, too. “Do not presume to know what I am thinking or feeling.”

“I’m just saying that I have no expectations—”

“Well, you damn well should,” he snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “You should expect everything I have to give.” He turned away from her, paced back and forth, muttered to himself as he tried to banish the thought that perhaps she did not want him.

To lose her once had almost killed him. To lose her again after having experienced utter bliss—

The stabbing pain in chest forced him to inhale sharply.

“Why are you so annoyed with me?” Her words penetrated his addled mind. “Please, Lachlan. Stand still for a moment before your marching snaps a board. It is just that I do not want you to feel obligated—”

“Obligated?” He stopped abruptly, dragged his palm down his face before turning to look at her. “I have spent my whole life wanting you. The sense of longing is so painful it keeps me awake at night. As a young man, I lived for the day when you would be mine. I thought you felt the same way.”

“I do.” She grabbed his hands. “Please believe me, I do.”

A desperate need to touch her more intimately took hold. Isla would always be his weakness. He reached for her, devoured her mouth with an urgency he could not control. She wrapped her arms around him, pressed her body against his until it felt as though they were one. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, their tongues thrusting wildly, their breathless pants evidence of their heightened arousal.

“Tell me you want me.” He could hear insecurity in his voice as he ra

ined kisses along her jaw.

“I do,” she panted. “I want everything you have to give and more.”

He claimed her mouth again as they shuffled back towards the bed. Control slipped away. The strength to rein in his desire had left him, too.

Isla’s hands moved frantically over his arms and chest before she tugged on her skirt and hiked it up to reveal soft, creamy thighs. “I need you, Lachlan. I need you now. I cannot wait.”

Bloody hell!

He fiddled with the buttons on his trousers to free his swollen cock. In a matter of seconds, he was moving inside her. The quick, hard thrusts were the only way to ease their anxieties. Sharp nails gripped his buttocks, urging him to keep the pace.

It didn’t matter that they were still fully clothed. Buried deep inside her body was the only place he felt at peace.

“Don’t wait for me,” she whispered against his neck. “Know that I give myself to you unconditionally. Know that my love for you is constant.”

His cock was not the only part of his body to swell and burst. His heart soared as her tender words penetrated his mind. He pumped harder as she continued to whisper words of encouragement.

“You’re mine, Isla. Let me hear you say it is true.” A feeling of intense euphoria overwhelmed him; the power of his release was beyond glorious.

“I’m yours, Lachlan,” she said gripping him tight. “For now. For always.”

Sated beyond anything he had ever felt before, he collapsed on top of her. “Forgive me. Next time, I will devote all efforts to your pleasure.”

She caressed his buttocks, gave a sweet hum of pleasure when he pushed a little deeper. If only they could have more time together. If she were his wife, he would spend hours lavishing her with attention.

A light rap on the door startled him. He was suddenly grateful that their joining had only lasted mere minutes.

“Just give me a moment,” Isla called.

Lachlan fought the urge to scramble from the bed. Instead, he withdrew slowly, filling her once again so that he could watch her eyes glaze over.

“I need to get up,” she chastised, batting his arm. Yet her moan of surrender when he repeated the motion suggested she was in no hurry to move.

“Have no fear, love. I’m quickly losing the ability to torment you.” He knew he could soon rouse the enthusiasm to continue had there not been more pressing matters to be addressed.

With a groan of disappointment, he rolled onto his back. Noting the smirk on her face as she straightened her dress and brushed her fingers through her hair, he felt a rush of masculine pride for her dishevelled condition.

Her gaze drifted over his languid form sprawled out on the bed. “I suggest you button your trousers, else someone will see much more of you than they wish.” She moistened her lips as her gaze lingered where most women would not dare to look. “At the moment, it does not appear as impressive.”