Bound by Dreams Page 17
His penis throbbed against her. She was killing him with the hot scrape of her thighs, yet Calan could have thrown back his head and shouted in triumph. Each time her touch had caught him, pulling him back from the edge. Each time the force had steadied him, focused him, empowered him. When he chose to accept pain rather than hurt her, he had somehow driven the Other down into its fathomless darkness.
“Again,” he ordered. “Bite my lower lip this time.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, her hand riding along his hot length. She arched a little, pushing against him.
He was mad to sink inside her, feeling the wildness rise again, a heartbeat away. “I need this from you, Kiera. I’ll explain later.”
She took a breath and kissed him wetly. Her tongue slid into his mouth, wrapped over his tongue in hot circles. And after long seconds she bit him.
Hard.
Calan jolted at the sharp sensation and the absolute return of control.
And then he raised his head, unable to believe what she had shown him. Was it possible that she had freed him from his nightmares? Had she touched the capacity for violence that had haunted him since he was a boy, with powers he could neither understand nor control? Was it something about her that made him different now? Or was it what they became together?
He felt her mouth on his, gentle and warm. Her hand closed on his engorged erection. Lust slammed down viciously.
And yet he did not shove her to the ground and hammer with blind violence. His control held.
Now Calan was only a normal man fighting to control the pleasure he gave the woman he loved.
The woman he loved.
The words burned through his blood. He watched their colors, felt their weight. And he measured the deep truth of his feelings.
Love always brought pain, he thought. Rarely were the two apart. And now, with Kiera, love and touch might free him.
“Finish,” she panted. “I can’t—wait. It hurts to want you so much.” Her body moved against him, slick with passion. She made a soft, broken sound as his fingers stroked her, eased inside her.
Calan stroked her hot, wet center while she closed around him and her legs gripped his waist. As she arched back, sighing his name, she fumbled for his zipper and then shoved the fabric away to bring him closer.
Her head fell back. She was a vision of reckless, breathtaking desire. She was his first sliver of hope in too many years to count.
He brought her higher, opening her legs to tease her, letting her slide over the throbbing tip of his penis. He stroked, hard and controlled, but did not enter her. Instead he seduced and maddened.
She moaned, driving her body hard against him. “Don’t. No more, Calan. I can’t wait—”
His fingers opened, expertly stroking as he whispered hot Gaelic praise against her throat. “You’re all silk, Kiera. So much heat right here against my hand.”
He palmed her, pushing deeper until he felt her stiffen, her legs gripping his waist.
And then he drove her over the edge.
Panting blindly, she bit his shoulder and plunged into a shuddering climax.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WIND TOSSED the leaves. Mist swirled up in white waves as Kiera sank against Calan’s chest. Her hair fell in a chestnut tangle across his shoulder, and he felt the sweat of her skin mix with his.
He was completely entranced.
It wasn’t going to be fast between them, he swore grimly. It wasn’t going to be easy, either. There was too much at stake.
And Nicholas expected him back at the abbey in four hours.
So damned little time.
“Are all the men from your town as devastating as you are?”
“There are no towns on my island. Just a few roads. Crofts that face a never-ending roar of storms and cloudy sky.”
She sighed. “Sounds lovely.”
“Not lovely. It’s a difficult life. Yet I doubt many of the tenants would consider leaving.”
“Tenants?” She leaned back, squinting at him. “You’re the landlord? Laird, isn’t that what you call it?”
“Aye, it’s been the MacKay isle for centuries.”
“You have your own island?”
“Not just me. I’m not the next in line,” he said gravely. No point in bringing up the past. No point in telling her why he could never be accepted by his own kind.
“But it’s in your family. That’s very impressive.” She rested her head against his shoulder for a moment, shivering.
“You’re cold. The wind is stirring up.”
“I’m counting on you to keep me warm.” Her hand slid down and rested on his waistband. “I think it’s working.” Her fingers slid slowly lower. “Before you didn’t—” She took a husky breath. “Finish.”
“It’s not a race. Getting to the finish line is half the fun.”
“Tell that to my last boyfriend,” she muttered.
“Past boyfriend,” he said flatly. “Forget him.” He drew her closer, arms around her waist. He could feel the sharp slam of her heart.
She bit her lip. “Why did you want me to hurt you? Every time I did, you smiled. That’s on the edge of creepy, Calan.”
He traced the curve of her cheek. “There’s a reason. A good reason. I’ll explain it to you someday.”
“Why not now?”
“Because we have more pleasant things to do.”
Wind stirred the lavender near the house, filling the air with crisp sweetness. Kiera looked up and blinked. “It’s starting to rain.”
She stretched a little. Smiled up at him. “Do I care?”
The first fine drops darkened her hair, soaked slowly into the cotton shirt that was only half-buttoned now.
“You’ll catch cold if we stay here much longer.” The wind rose, snapping her hair across his face, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her hand tightened, drawing him fully into her grasp.
She sighed, whispered his name.
Heat hit Calan, exploding in vicious waves. Rain gathered on her face as he kissed her, tasted her, burned to take her. Need became a scream.
He gripped her closer, opened the door with his elbow and carried her down the hall. They didn’t make it to his bed. They didn’t even reach his bedroom. Her hand fisted on his penis as she bit his ear, threatening to force him over the edge. And he wanted to be inside her, driving her to a fine madness when that happened.
But pain had become his mentor. He welcomed the control it gave him.
“Stop hurrying things.”
“I want you inside me, Calan. If this is just a delicious dream, I don’t want to know it.”
Muttering, he pulled her hand free.
Smiling, she slid it right back. “And I’ve got you exactly where I want you. Within my hand.”
He muttered a dark curse in Gaelic. The last embers of the dying fire turned her skin golden as he strode into the library, shoving a table out of the way with his foot. He set her down on the thick rug, then pulled a soft wool throw off a wing chair and dried her face and arms.
“Your leg is bleeding again.” She frowned up at him. “You hit it on the table.”
“I don’t feel anything,” he said in all truth. “Are you warm enough?”
“No.” Her face was grave as she stood up, freeing more buttons on her shirt.
He caught her hands and pushed them away. Moving slowly, he released each button and kissed the damp skin beneath until she dug her fingers into his hair. Despite her panting, he didn’t hurry, savoring the pleasure of revealing her body inch by inch.
She muttered his name.
She dug at his back.
She tried to wiggle out from beneath him, but Calan was implacable. She had given him hope for a future, and he would give her this small gift in return.
More pleasure than she could bear.
He leaned on one knee, freed the last button and pushed the cotton away. A faint gleam touched her skin, shimmering in her eyes. It would be impossibl
e to forget her when he left, Calan thought.
Impossible not to want more. To want forever.
He forced the future from his mind, dimly aware of her hands pressed against his chest. With a low oath, he rolled, bringing her above him so she knelt, her knees on each side of his body. Slowly he followed the lush curve of her thighs, teased the warm curls until he found the heat of her. She shuddered, arching in the faint light.
Calan rose on one elbow. His mouth followed the same searching path as his hands and then closed over her. His hands locked around her shoulders, holding her steady when she would have fallen while he tongued her deeply. Each stroke drew a breathless gasp that hissed away into a husky moan.
How would he ever have enough of her?
Something penetrated the iron concentration. Calan realized it was the faint scent of salt. A single tear glinted on her cheek. Her eyes were huge and dazed as he brought her body down against his mouth, meeting her with his hot tongue.
Pleasure shattered her. She raked his back, her legs rising to wrap around his shoulders. The force of her climax left her breathless, panting, and when her eyes finally opened, color swirled through her cheeks.
She eased backward, shifted, then pushed him down and slid her body closer until he was between her thighs, his erection caught against her.
Muttering, he tried to lift her, but she worked free. She slid lower against him to force his slow penetration.
She took him deeper, urged him slowly inside her, her expression rapt as their bodies merged.
Nothing was hidden in that moment. Her honesty was fierce and complete. And every emotion that snapped through her eyes struck Calan with equal force. Their bond was deep, beyond words.
She traced the little welt on his shoulder. Frowning, she leaned down to kiss the small bruise nearby, then touch an old scar near his neck. Calan had been a boy when that scar had been raised.
He was a man now, and the old pain was finally just a dim memory.
When she drew him completely inside her, he gripped her hips, lost to a rush of pleasure.
“I’ll have you, Kiera. With a pleasure you can’t even imagine. You’ll never forget this joining.”
His shoulders tightened. Tiny hairs rose along his back.
Kiera touched his cheek, distracting the beast.
Calling to the man.
He rose taut inside her. Calan lifted her up, drove himself as far as she could take him and felt her shatter with a husky moan.
His own furious release came heartbeats later, hot and swift, jetting up to fill her.
Her hands tightened, never leaving his cheek.
KIERA HAD WANTED to be free, to trust herself, and he’d taken her the last step of the way. Already she wanted him again, with a fascination that left her giddy.
But when she tried to move her legs, she collapsed. Her arms were shaking. Her body simply gave way, poured across him in delicious abandon. “You just may have killed me, Calan.”
His finger traced her wrist. “You’ve still got a pulse.” He turned slightly. “Which is more than I can say for me.” His hands eased her forward, drawing her into the curve of his arm, while her thighs were cradled against his.
He gently traced the flushed skin above her breast. “Very sexy.”
She opened one eye and blew a tiny strand of hair out of her face. “You’re a dangerous man. I have no strength left. Not anywhere.”
He traced the little peak of her nipple slowly. “Not anywhere?”
She smiled. Worked her thighs closer to his. “Nothing that I can feel.” Her eyes closed. “Check back in ten minutes.”
Then her head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder and she slept.
IT WAS HER favorite dream.
The one where a man’s powerful arms closed around her. She couldn’t see his face but he felt familiar.
A stranger yet not a stranger.
And then the heat…
A man’s rough cheek scraped Kiera’s breast. Warm breath touched her neck. With a little gasp, she twisted to her side.
Rain tapped at the windows as the man’s thigh moved, pinning her body against a soft rug.
No dream held this much detail.
When she tried to ease her arm free so she could look up, Calan slid her back into the crook of his arm and pulled a heavy throw over their entwined bodies.
She blinked, a little dazed.
His finger traced her lips. “Someday you’ll tell me why you’re smiling.”
She watched the rain trail down the window. “And someday you’ll tell me what you really do with that explosive gear.”
“It’s possible.”
She leaned back with a sigh and kissed his shoulder. “I’ll tell you now. It’s from being here with you. All this is the way it’s supposed to feel. I keep wondering if it’s a dream.”
“There is one way to find out.” Calan rose on his elbow, kissing her slowly. He traced the curve of her hip and cupped her breast. “It feels very real to me.”
The throw fell. Their legs met.
Sleep was forgotten.
Kiera sighed when Calan’s hands teased her sensitive nipples. She should have been exhausted, but any contact with his body left her restless to have him again. How could he understand her so well? Why did a near-stranger feel like someone she had known all her life?
The questions faded as he slid his leg slowly between hers. She didn’t want him to be slow. She didn’t want care and logic. Determined, Kiera rolled away and settled on his chest, wrapping her hands around him.
He turned, bringing her back beneath him, his hands tracing her shivering stomach. He found her heat. While she struggled, he tongued the warm skin beneath his hands.
She made a breathless sound and pulled him closer.
A small chiming sound came from his pants, draped over a nearby chair.
“Hell.” His jaw clenched. Calan rolled away and pulled the soft blanket over her shoulders, kissing her hard. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He didn’t bother to dress. Cradling his phone, he strode out into the hall.
Was it his friend Nicholas Draycott calling?
Kiera felt a cold weight on her chest. Old plans and old bitterness goaded her. Was it a mistake to be here with a man she didn’t really know? She had finally started trusting her instinct, and she was tired of making every decision based on cold logic. For one single night Kiera didn’t want to be cool and practical. Right now her instincts assured her that she could trust Calan with her body and her life.
She caught the comforter against her fingers, wincing a little as she sat up. Her body felt languid and beautiful, molded by their fierce lovemaking.
But something dug at her memory, making her uneasy.
A moment later she fit the pieces together. He had bumped the cut on his leg when he’d kicked the table aside only an hour earlier. She had seen blood and the dark outline of the wound.
But now, as he’d walked away, only a pale welt remained. No blood, no cut.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the cut had been in a different spot.
Kiera closed her eyes. No, that was impossible. Everything about the past hour was burned into her memory. She’d seen the trail of blood, and now it was gone. Only a faint scar remained.
Suddenly she had the feeling that Calan MacKay was not who she thought he was.
Not what she thought he was…
The thought chilled her.
Questions continued to dig at her as she clutched the blanket and slowly gathered her clothes. When he’d kissed her, she’d forgotten all her careful plans. In the hot flare of desire, everything outside this room had been forgotten.
Kiera stood very still, watching the pattern of the rain shadowed on the window. She had been seduced by the power of her own dreams. Now it was time she had answers about who Calan MacKay really was.
“Kiera?”
She turned slowly. He was standing in the door, his cell phone in his hand.
“We need to talk.” She took a breath. “You’re not bleeding, Calan. It’s been barely an hour.” She had to force out the words. “Now your leg has healed. I see it but I don’t understand how it’s possible.”
A muscle moved at his jaw. “I don’t want to waste the time we have in questions or talk, Kiera. I have to leave very soon. Will you trust me and give me a little more time?”
“I want to,” she said slowly. “I’m not sure why, but when I’m with you I feel completely alive. Colors are different. I’m different. I feel as if I’m part of something much bigger.”
“And you never expected to feel like that.”
Kiera nodded.
“It’s the same way for me.”
“What’s happening to me, Calan? I’ve always known exactly where I was going and how I was going to get there. Then I meet you and I forget everything important.”
Her hands trembled.
Only from the cold, Kiera told herself.
“I know just how you feel.”
“So what are we supposed to do about it?”
“Follow where it takes us. Trust in what we feel. One hour, one day at a time.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Trust is never easy.” He said the words harshly. Yet again Kiera wondered about his past and what had left so much pain in his eyes.
“Part of me says you’re right. The other part says that I’m being dangerously stupid.”
“You’ll have to choose. We all have to choose.” He smoothed the wool throw around her body. “You have to decide what you want most, comfort and safety or the truth.” He saw her expression of protest. “You can’t walk away, Kiera. Nicholas is entitled to the truth, and you’re entitled to a family you never knew existed.”
“There’s something else,” she said slowly. “I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t know how to deal with the questions. I went to Draycott Abbey last night.”
He didn’t move. “You went inside?”
“I walked through the grounds, trying to sort out my emotions. I had the strangest feeling that I was being watched. Then as I was leaving…I was attacked.”