The Condemned Highlander (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 2)

He knew what that was now. Love.

“I love you, Annis,” he whispered in her ear, needing to tell her again. Or was it he who needed to hear it?

“Not as much as I love you,” she whispered and rained kisses on his lips as her hand played along the silky, smoothness of his hard shaft.

“As much as I favor your touch, I would much rather be inside you.”

“Then why do you wait, husband?”

Brogan didn’t. He slipped over her and into her gently and with ease. He groaned as her wetness welcomed him and, once he was sheathed fully inside her, she closed tightly around him as if she didn’t intend to let him go.

Annis sighed, loving the feel of him sinking deep inside her, settling there where he belonged. She squeezed his shaft, hugging it tight and keeping him snug. He started moving and the world around her faded away as his thrusts turned potent and she was soon lost in an oblivion of pleasure.

Slow. Fast. Slow. Fast.

Brogan did not want it to end. The satisfaction—the pleasure—was nothing like he had ever experienced, and he knew it would always be this way with her. The thought further flared his already fiery passion.

It soon turned frenzied, and Annis thrust her hips up to meet his powerful plunges and it was not long before she climaxed along with her husband. She smiled when his moan drowned out hers, making her release all the more enjoyable.

They lay side by side after sanity returned—the bed too narrow for any other position.

He tucked a springy curl that fell along the side of her face behind her ear as he often did and watched it spring free. He knew it would and he supposed that was why he did it. He would be worried if it didn’t since it always reminded him of her resilience and was one of the reasons he loved her so much.

He startled when she hurried to rest her hand on his arm to push herself up to sit.

She glanced around the room with wide eyes.

He grew alarmed. “What is it?”

She turned a gleeful smile on him. “Nothing. We made love and nothing happened.”

That’s when they both heard the ropes under the lumpy mattress give way.

Brogan’s hand shot out to snatch her around the waist and deposit her on top of him just as they fell through the bed together.

20

“Thank you for taking the brunt of the fall,” Annis said with a soft laugh the next morning as they continued on their journey.

“It was my turn since you took the previous one,” Brogan said, glad his wife saw humor in their mishaps and did not think their lovemaking cursed. He thought that too soon.

“Do you think the curse plagues our lovemaking?” she asked seriously, then burst out laughing and waved her hand dismissing it. “An absurd thought. The little mishaps will cease once we can make love in a secure dwelling.”

His wife saw logic where he saw the curse interfering in every aspect of his life. This was one time he hoped her logic proved true.

They took the route along the fast-moving stream as if it was rushing to get somewhere important. Annis wished her quest would go as fast.

Her glance fell on the path and her eyes lit with excitement. “Wheel tracks,” she cried out, pointing to the ground. “We need to pick up our pace before they get too far ahead of us, and we chance losing them.”

Brogan agreed with a nod, and they were soon traveling at a faster pace.

The day wore on with disappointment. Following the tracks, then losing them and finding no traveling merchant. They would have to stop soon since dusk wasn’t far off.

“We will crest that small hill and settle for the night by the stream,” Brogan said as disappointed as his wife was since he wanted this done sooner than later as much or possibly more than her.

Annis nodded, annoyed, though that changed as soon as they reached the top of the small hill and spotted the cart camped for the night by the stream. Anticipation squeezed as they followed a worn path down the hill and dismounted to approach the campsite.

The man shot to his feet and uncertainty sparked in his eyes as soon as he spotted Brogan and Annis approach.

His portly shape and well-tended garments were evidence of a successful merchant. His gray hair—neatly secured at the nape of his neck—and gray bushy eyebrows along with his many wrinkles declared his advanced age. However, it was the woman Annis was more interested in and was disappointed to see that she was sleeping near the fire wrapped snug in her cloak. It would be rude of her to wake the woman.

The man’s nervous demeanor calmed some when his glance fell on Brogan.

“Lord Brogan, how may I be of service to you?”