Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,82
wild cry, he gasped her name, his voice breaking.
Cassian stirred upon the bed, stretching his limbs under the warm sun that filtered in through the open window. Eyes flickering open, he glanced over at where a naked woman lay on her side, facing him.
The sunlight played across her lithe limbs and milky skin. Her thick walnut-colored hair fanned out across the pillow, and her full lips—swollen from his kisses—were slightly parted.
Not wanting to wake her, and yet unable to resist touching her, Cassian reached out and brushed a lock of hair off her face.
Aila stretched like a she-cat, her eyes flickering open.
For a long moment, the pair of them just stared at each other, and then Aila wet her lips, an innocent-enough gesture that made his rod stiffen. Those lips had been wrapped around his shaft just a short while earlier, sucking and licking him into a frenzy.
“I should really get back,” Aila said, her voice husky, breaking his reverie. “Lady Gavina will wonder what has become of me.”
Cassian huffed, his hand trailing down her neck to the curve of her high, rosy breasts. “Let her wonder … some things are more important.”
Indeed, after their stormy coupling in the armory, he’d taken her by the hand and led her out into the lower ward bailey. He’d almost expected to find a crowd gathered there, to see his men smirking and servants giving them knowing looks. However, as he’d ordered, everyone had returned to their duties.
Wordlessly, Cassian had led Aila up to his quarters, high in the main guard tower, and with the door locked behind them, he’d undressed her before laying her down upon the bed and exploring her body at leisure.
Aila had watched him under lowered lids, her smoke-grey eyes dark.
Cassian had stared back at her, captivated. Since his announcement back in the armory, they’d barely spoken. A wildness had descended upon them both, a hunger that had to be satisfied.
But now, despite that his groin grew achingly hard at the sight of her, Cassian knew the time had come for him to speak once more.
“You’re a feast, Aila,” he murmured. “One that I will never tire of.”
Her cheeks blushed prettily at that—despite all they’d done this afternoon, he still had the power to embarrass her.
Cassian moved closer, drawing Aila against him. Catching her under the chin, he gently raised it so their gazes fused. “It feels as if I’ve spent years trapped in a dungeon of my own making … but am now a free man, Aila,” he admitted. “Thanks to you.”
She stared up at him, her eyes gleaming. “I love ye, Cassian,” she whispered.
Swallowing the lump that rose in his throat, he smiled. “I’m scared,” he admitted huskily. “Scared of losing you … and scared we’ll never break this curse. I can’t promise you things will turn out as we both want … but I can vow I will never leave your side.”
A tear trickled down her cheek. “Ye must have loved yer wife very much,” she said huskily, “to grieve for her as long as ye did … I hope I can do her memory justice.”
His mouth twisted, and he shook his head. “You don’t need to. I did love Lilla … but she’s been gone a long while now. You stand in no one’s shadow, Aila, remember that.” His face relaxed a little then. “I need to stop trying to outrun things … fate always catches up with me in the end. Lilla once said that love is always worth the pain of loss, and she was right. It’s just taken me too long to realize.”
Aila stared up at him, more tears flowing now. “But ye might break the curse … ye are so close now.”
“We are,” he said softly, brushing away her tears with the back of his hand. “But there are no guarantees, love. I can only give you myself, as I am right now. Will you wed an immortal man, Aila?”
Aila’s lips parted, and she inhaled sharply. Seeing her reaction, Cassian smiled. “Maximus will grin, and Draco will tell me I have the wits of a donkey, but I don’t care. All I want is you.” A shiver went through him as he said these words. In truth, he was terrified of what the future held, of what they were both risking, but he’d meant his words. He wouldn’t use the fear of pain as a shield any longer.
Lilla had been right all those years ago—he wished he’d listened to her.