With his head resting on the lip and the fire’s flames flickering bright, he closed his eyes and allowed Fiona’s sweet image to once again flicker back to vibrant life within his mind, just as he’d allowed it to do for each of the long months he’d been away. He just couldn’t help himself. Self-punishment and all.
Not long after he’d left here six months ago, he’d even visited her at Rhue Castle for a few days, and while there of course taken great care not to be alone with her. He’d only made the journey to Jeremiah’s keep to ensure he spoke to a few of his men he kept there as spies and receive updates since Jeremiah could be as devious as their father could. He’d also made certain the men he’d recruited knew to keep an eye on her, that they guarded her well, and of that he’d needed to ensure, no matter they’d fully and completely parted ways.
With her image still strong in his mind, he gripped his hardening shaft and with a firm hand, pumped himself and allowed more images of his fiery empath to consume him.
She was the woman he’d always wanted.
And the woman he could never have.
A man’s low growl then deep groan stirred Fiona to wakefulness. Water splashed somewhere close by. She elbowed up in bed and searched her darkened chamber. Her fire had died away some hours ago although the odd ember still glowed and for some reason, so too did a sliver of golden-red light shimmering through from under the connecting door between hers and Coll’s bedchamber. How odd. He wasn’t due back until late tomorrow, and she’d certainly be awake when he did.
Another groan, and distinctly Coll’s deep rumble. Goodness. He was back.
Covers shoved away, she hopped across the cold floorboards in her nightrail and gripped the doorknob. Another moan. Mayhap he’d been hurt during his mission which was why he’d returned earlier than expected. She needed to check on him.
She opened the door with nary a noise, snuck inside and tiptoed around his bed. A fire glowed in the hearth and flames flickered high. A wooden tub sat before the fire and Coll rested in the bubbles facing away from her, his head on the lip. Water dripped from the wet ends of his midnight-black hair and splashed the floor.
He moaned again and she barely breathed.
Water sloshed and spilled over the side, his hand below the bubbles moving frantically back and forth. Nay, he wasn’t hurt but bringing forth his own pleasure. She’d caught sight of the odd warrior doing so in a darkened corner of the keep when no others were around and knew what was about
Usually, she backed quietly away when such happened and left them to their privacy, only her feet wouldn’t move. Aye, she was done leaving Coll, or allowing him to leave her and she’d missed him terribly, had been longing for his return since Duncan had aided her in her escape from Rhue following Matthew’s death some months ago. This was the moment she’d been waiting for, to confront Coll and demand he no longer set her aside.
“Fiona.” He mumbled her name, gritted out, “I need you.”
She needed him too, desperately, just as she always had.
A flare of heat spiked in her core, his demanding words making her nipples bead and poke into her shift. Never had her body come alive except when near him, and this night was no exception. So too he was no longer honor-bound to wed Kyla, and as the fates would now have it, neither was she bound to Matthew. This was her only chance to grab the future she desired, which would only ever be with him.
“Dinnae leave me.” He grunted some more, his shoulders shaking as he shuddered, then his hand fell limp to his side in the water.
“I give you my word I’ll never do so again, Coll.” Inserting her steadfast resolve, she stepped clear of her hiding place behind the royal blue bed-curtains and clasped her hands before her. “Welcome home.”
“What the hell!” Water flew as he jerked around. Wide-eyed, he stared at her. “You cannae be real.”
“I’m so sorry to have interrupted your bath.” She jabbed her curled toes into the floorboards. “But you called my name and I’ve decided I’m never going to turn away from you again.”
“Nay, you truly cannae be here. I must be dreaming.” He rose from the tub, water glistening on his broad chest and coursing in rivulets down his abs. The drops caught in the dark thatch of hair at his groin, right where the long length of his cock swayed between his legs, the head plump and thick and—oh my, she couldn’t take her gaze from his manhood. He stepped closer, his muscular legs long and strong and his cock which had softened after he’d sought his pleasure, once again jerking upright. He halted in front of her, fisted his hand around his shaft and stared into her eyes. “A dream more real than any I’ve ever had about you afore.”
“If you’re dreaming, then so am I.” She may still be an innocent, but she’d also grown up amongst warriors aplenty. Men who’d caroused from time to time and got a little bawdy. One certainly couldn’t live within the walls of a castle with hundreds of men about and not stumble upon the odd coupling as they sought their pleasure with the wenches.