Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,45

her.

He slid into her with aching slowness, all the while staring deep into her eyes. Draco was a sight to behold, his face all tight, hawkish lines, his black eyes hooded with lust.

And the way he watched her as he took her unraveled the last of Gavina’s restraint. Panting, she arched her hips against him, taking him deeper with each thrust.

Aching pleasure started to throb in the cradle of her hips. She felt as if she was reaching for something—although she didn’t know what.

She had no idea coupling could be like this. Her body sang for him.

Boom.

The walls shook, and the shuttered window rattled from the impact. However, this time, neither of them paid it any notice. Lost in pleasure, they moved against the wall together, dancing in a rhythm of their own making.

Draco’s fingers bit into the soft flesh of her hips and buttocks now as he drove her over the edge.

With a ragged cry that chorused with the roar of the assault upon Dunnottar, Gavina shattered.

Breathing hard, she came down to earth.

Still entwined against the wall, she and Draco clung together for a few moments as they recovered from the storm that had just engulfed them both.

Neither of them spoke, and Gavina pressed her face against the sweat-damp hollow of his shoulder. Her heart was galloping, and she felt as if she were floating ten feet above the ground.

No wonder Heather and Aila both wore contented looks these days.

If this was how they spent their time alone with their husbands, she was surprised they didn’t have smug grins plastered permanently over their faces.

What had Draco done to her? The pleasure that had just rocked her left her gasping in the aftermath. How would she ever meet his eye again without her cheeks glowing like twin embers?

Long moments passed, and then she became aware of the chill of the stone against her back, of the cries and shouts beyond the walls and the rolling boom and thunder of the siege.

“I need to get back to the wall,” Draco said finally, his breath feathering against the shell of her ear. “It sounds as if Longshanks is hitting us hard.”

Gavina nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

However, when he pulled away from her, she felt an odd pang of loss. In his arms, for just a brief spell, she’d been able to forget the dire mess they were all in.

Draco’s words brought it all back.

He stepped away from her then and went to retrieve his clothing.

Gavina remained there, leaning against the wall, watching him.

Draco Vulcan was a joy to gaze upon—all lean, sinewy muscle and smooth, dusky skin. Her mouth went dry as the desire to go to him, to trace those carven muscles with her fingertips, to taste his skin with her tongue swept over her.

Gavina swallowed, pushing down the carnal urge.

Enough. It’s over. They’d consummated their union.

“Does this mean the curse is broken?” she asked finally.

Draco paused from lacing up his leggings and glanced up, his expression serious, his gaze veiled. “It should be.”

“But … can ye tell? Do ye feel any different?”

He shrugged. “Not yet … although I’m sure I can put it to the test soon enough.”

Gavina tensed. Was he going to throw himself in the path of a volley of Greek fire and see if he survived? Surveying the suddenly hard lines of his face, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he planned just such a thing.

She said no more then, for his comment had cowed her. Surely, he wasn’t keen to die? It was hard to believe he’d just made love to her, had just played her body like a harp.

Pulling on his boots, Draco then scooped up his vest and deftly laced it.

Still, Gavina said nothing. A chill stole over her then, goose-bumps rising on her skin. She should really reach for her own clothes, but instead she was frozen in place.

When he was dressed, Draco’s gaze returned to her. “You’re cold,” he murmured, the harsh lines of his face softening just a little. Scooping up a blanket from the bed, he approached her before wrapping it around her shoulders.

Their gazes met fully then, for an instant, and his mouth curved. “You’re a surprise, Gavina,” he said softly. “An unforgettable combination of fire and ice.”

Gavina stared back at him, not sure whether to be flattered or insulted by this assessment.

Draco’s eyes gleamed. “David De Keith was a great fool indeed not to value you.”

And with these last words, he stepped back from her, turned, and