Leith (Mountain Men 1)
“Come here,” I say, drawing her nearer. I run my hand over her shoulder, down her back, to her heated arse, still striped with my belt. Her breathing hitches, and she moves a little closer, so her legs are pressed up to mine.
I slide my hand down her chest, palming her breasts and cupping her belly before I place the heel of my palm between her legs. Her pelvis jerks, and she holds me tighter.
This woman’s never experienced the heat of passion or the afterglow of making love. She’s never experienced any of that.
I’ll fix that.
I bend and capture her mouth with mine. She kisses me back, and I lose myself to her. So soft, so sensual, so evocative. I slide my tongue into her mouth, a gentle exploration, as I let my fingers do an exploration of their own.
She nearly collapses against me, her hips jerking as I stroke her, and her pussy spasms as my tongue meets hers. Her arms tighten around my neck, and I increase the tempo of my fondling, her tongue sending frissons of arousal and awareness through me. I circle harder, faster, until she’s writhing and her hips jerk against my hand. I ease her climax out of her gently, until she sags against my shoulder, her arms draped around my shoulders as if I just rescued her from drowning.
I want to do so much more to her. So much fucking more to her.
“It’s time to go downstairs in a while, but you need some rest first, I think.”
The gaze she gives me is shy and vulnerable, as if she’s afraid I’ll leave her after I’ve given her pleasure.
She’s mine. I won’t ever leave her. It will be my duty in life to ensure she’s well cared for, no matter what.
I’m surprised at the vehemence of my reaction. I never expected to feel this way about her like I do. Hell, if I’m honest, I never expected to feel this way about anyone.
Like she’s special to me. Like I need to protect her from the harm that can come from both our friends and enemies. They’re equally dangerous.
I want to protect her from the harm that can come from anywhere. She’s so vulnerable, so innocent.
Not anymore.
I close my eyes against the rush of emotion when I think about what this means for us. We’re far more than captor and prisoner.
I need to prove to myself that I can control myself, though. That I won’t lose all self-control with her, that I’m an honorable man who will do what I say and not take advantage of my power or position.
So I take her by the hand and bring her to my bedroom.
“Get some rest,” I tell her, pointing to the bed. “I have some work to do.”
She looks to me from below hooded eyes, clearly aroused by my command over her. Still holding my gaze, she nods, bows her head, and walks to my bedroom, all perfect grace and feminine allure with her naked curves and unadulterated beauty. I stifle a groan as she sways her hips, her full breasts swinging with the effort of walking unencumbered.
I stifle a moan as I follow behind her. I take one corner of the bedding and fold it down, then pat the clean, crisp white sheet beneath it to welcome her to lie down. She obeys, climbing into the bed and laying her head on my pillow. She breathes in deeply.
I stalk back to the entryway, find her mobile, and come back to her. I kick off my shoes, then slide into bed beside her and hand her her phone.
Jesus, what I’d give to hear her voice.
I have so many questions for her.
“Why were you in the church the night we found you?”
Her fingers fly over the keys. I was seeking respite from my brother.
Her fucking brother. I text her.
Dougal Reilly.
She nods.
“What had he done that caused you to seek refuge?”
He hit me because he was angry I took his money.
I frown. “You had good reason?”
She nods.
“I see. And MacGowen knows your brother occasionally hits you.”
Frowning, she types a response.
Aye, Father knows my brother hits me, but it isn’t occasionally.
Christ.
“It’s all the time, then?”
She nods, and turns her face away from me.
I’ll fucking kill him.
“Do you live with anyone else?”
“You live with your parents.”
A sharp shake of her head and a frown.
No, sir. I live with my mother and brother.
Fuck, I like that, the way she defers to me, and the way she relays bold, honest truth.
I nod.
“That’s enough questions for now, but I’ll have more later. You’ll join us for supper this evening, so I’ll have you be sure you’re well dressed for the occasion.”
She nods and yawns widely, then rolls over on her side.
I roll over beside her and yank the blanket up over my shoulders. When her breathing steadies, her naked body pressed up to my fully-clothed one, I close my eyes, weariness settling over me. My breathing grows regularly with hers, and I fall asleep beside her.