but he pushed them up above her waist and held them. He lowered enough of his body weight to pin her to the ground. The sky shook with another clap of thunder, this one centered directly over them.
The bolt of lightning that followed illuminated her lover. He was savage with bared teeth, but tender too as he slowly probed her open sex with his cock, merely shifting his kilt out of the way. He didn’t push into her quickly. The effort cost him. The muscles on the side of his jaw twitched.
“Keir—”
“Nay!” he growled through clenched teeth. “You’ll be sore from last night.”
She bucked beneath him but he kept her pinned. His eyes burned into hers. “I’m your master and I said nay.”
She snarled at him, but was helpless. His cock pressed forward in a slow thrust that made her whine with need. But he was correct. Her passage protested the penetration, pain snaking through her as he pressed deeper. It seemed forever that she waited to feel full. An eternity of needing and craving his flesh. When he pushed the last bit of length into her, his entire body shook.
“Sweet Christ…”
He said something else in Gaelic, something guttural and husky. She understood it somewhere inside her where words didn’t have meaning. A moment later he was riding her, as quick and as hard as the swirling wind. He released her legs and she clasped him tightly, lifting her bottom to get closer to him, to take more of him into her. Rain filtered through the tree branches, the water hitting her face.
It was pure sensation—all of it. Keir surged forward, growling as he thrust into her over and over. Pleasure tightened under each stroke, pulling tighter and tighter until it burst. She erupted off the ground, crying out with her pleasure.
Keir pressed her back down, pounding his cock deeply into her. With a harsh cry she felt him empty his seed against the mouth of her womb, pumping the hot fluid deep inside her. Another spasm shook her, her passage gripping his length and pulling every last drop of seed from it.
The next clap of thunder was farther away. But she flinched, collapsing against the cloak in a heap of quivering muscles. Keir caught himself above her, his chest heaving.
“Sweet Helena…I cannae wait to take ye home to Red Stone, away from this place of false tales.”
He trailed soft kisses over her jaw and down her neck.
“But you just proved that you are uncivilized.”
He raised his head and showed her a cocky grin. “Aye, but ye enjoyed it. So I’m going to take ye home and ravish ye as often as possible.”
“I will hope.”
The storm was moving on, the rain subsiding into a soft sprinkle. A horn sounded in the distance and another one answered it. Keir groaned. He climbed to his feet and slid a hand beneath her waist to lift her up. Her skirts fell back into place, concealing their deviation from the prim and proper.
But little ripples of delight still moved down her legs, making her knees weak. Keir pulled her cloak from the ground and gave it a snap to dislodge the leaves that were stuck to it. He swung it around her body while she laced her stays and buttoned her doublet.
His hands cupped her chin, raising her eyes to meet his. “Did I hurt ye?”
Concern filled his eyes and her pride rejected it.
“You really must stop believing everything you hear about Englishwomen. Some of us are quite hearty.”
He grinned. “A good thing, too, considering how uncivilized Scotland is.”
“You’re insane.”
Edmund slapped the table in front of him but kept his rage from flaring back up. Not now. There was a time and a place to allow the flames to control him. Now he needed to apply his wit to the matter at hand.
“If you aren’t good enough to do the job, admit it and stop wasting my time.”
The man in front of him flinched. But it was a tiny movement of his cheek, nothing more. His eyes didn’t betray his emotions; in fact, the cold gaze coming from him fascinated Edmund. He had so much control; it was mesmerizing.
“I’m good enough. I know just where to stab you and make sure you live. I keep my knives sharp and clean. Only the best steel.”
“Good.”
“I didn’t say I would take the job. You’re a peer. I’d be tortured for attacking you if you are playing some sort of game. And my execution wouldn’t be something