Down the Rabbit Hole

His words died in his throat at the sight of her. “You are so lovely, my lady. Please don’t torture me. I must lie with you, Bethany, now, or die from this wanting.”


In answer, she framed his face with her hands and lifted herself on tiptoe to press a kiss to his mouth.

It was all the response he needed.

He groaned and gathered her into his arms, lifting her off her feet and carrying her the last few steps to her pallet.

There he laid her down as gently as though she were made of spun glass. And then, tossing aside his plaid, he joined her on the pallet and began raining kisses across her face, down her throat, and then lower, to her breasts.

Her breathing quickened, and her heart was racing as though she’d been running for miles.

“Colin. Wait. I need a moment.”

He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “A moment feels like eternity when the very sight of you has me on fire.”

“I just need to catch my breath.”

“You may have mine, my lady, for I have no need of anything, even my very breath, without you.” He brushed her lips with his, and she breathed him in, loving the familiar scent of Highland forest that clung to him.

And then, with teeth and tongue, with lips and fingertips, he began leading her higher and higher, until her entire world narrowed to this man, his kiss, his touch, and the paradise he promised.

Outside her balcony the wind sighed, matching her sighs. A night bird cried, and its mate answered. A dove cooed to its young in a nest. None of it mattered to the man and woman locked in a loving embrace.

As needs rose in her, Beth clutched at Colin, and the feel of his flesh had her palms tingling, her nerves quivering. Then, aware that she was free to touch him as he was touching her, she allowed her hands to move over him, tracing the solid ridge of muscled torso, the flat planes of his stomach.

He was so beautiful. A sculpted Highland warrior, a laird who wielded great power over his people, and yet he treated her with such care. As though afraid she would break if he but held her too tightly.

The thought emboldened her as she gave herself up completely to his loving ministrations.

“There is magic between us, Bethany.” He whispered the words against her mouth, and then inside her mouth, as he kissed her long and slow and deep.

She absorbed the deep timbre of his voice inside her. She could do nothing more than cling to him, and sigh from the pure pleasure he offered.

“My sweet, bonny Bethany.” He framed her face with his big hands and stared down into her eyes with a look so hot, so hungry, it had her shivering with anticipation. “I am completely captivated, my lady.” He pressed moist kisses over her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose.

Was the room moving? Spinning? She could feel it dip and sway with each touch, each kiss, until she was forced to close her eyes and hold on to him for fear of falling.

He lowered his head, and his lips closed around one erect nipple.

A shaft of heat pierced her heart, and she gasped and clung to him as he took her on a wild, dizzying ride, taking her higher, then higher still. A fire of such desperate need began building inside her, she feared she would surely burn to ash.

“Colin, please . . .”

“Say the words, Bethany. I’ve longed to hear you speak of your heart’s desire.”

“I . . .” Her need was so great, the words lodged in her throat like a boulder.

“Then I’ll say them for both of us. I love you, my beautiful, sweet Bethany.”

He took her then, with a fierceness that staggered them both.

As he entered her, he paused, and pressed his lips to her ear. “I am yours, my lady. Forever.”

Her body arched, her hands fisted in the bed linens. She stared blindly, a mist of passion clouding her vision. Her body was slick with the sheen that rose up between them. She could feel him struggling to be gentle, but the overwhelming need swamped him, making tenderness impossible.