HIGHLAND PROMISE (THE SONS OF GREGOR MACLEOD)

Chapter Fifteen

Caitlin floated in a sea of warmth. The most enticing smell enveloped her – musky, male, with a dash of uisge beatha. She breathed deeply, and the muscles contracted in her belly. Eyes drifting open, she stared at tanned skin over a muscular chest.

Darach.

Her heart surged and suddenly she was wide awake. They lay nestled together on their sides, facing each other, her head tucked beneath his chin. Morning light crept past the shutter and she heard people calling to each other from the bailey. She peered up. Darach's eyes were closed, his face peaceful. Beneath her hand, his chest rose and fell evenly.

Even after all the trouble she'd caused, he'd held her through the dark hours until dawn. Protected her.

Smiling, she reached up to kiss his chin. The coarse, morning stubble scraped her lips. She liked it. Restlessness pulsed through her and she squirmed in his arms, only to stop in shock as she encountered bare skin – all the way down.

She exhaled shakily, stirring the crisp hairs on his chest. Where were his clothes? Surely they hadn't— Nay, he would ne'er have touched her without her consent. But had she given it unknowingly in the night? Was she still a maid?

She'd told him they'd been intimate during his fever, and that she carried his bairn. Would he have coupled with her thinking he'd already taken her virginity? Could she be with child now? A thrill shot through her at the idea, and she crushed it. Being pregnant without benefit of marriage would be most difficult. But still, to be carrying Darach's bairn.

She snuggled closer. His chest hair tickled her nose. She rubbed her fingers through the crisp fleece, enjoying the roughened texture. Finding a nipple, she circled the small, flat nub. He inhaled and moved his leg over hers. Her shift had ridden to mid thigh during the night, and the direct contact of skin on skin sent shivers of excitement along her nerves. Heat pooled between her thighs, and she trembled.

He was so big, so warm. She palmed his chest then pressed her hands outward to the tips of his shoulders. The muscles bunched beneath her fingers. She squeezed, amazed at his power, the feel of iron beneath silk. His arms tightened around her and before she knew what she was doing she licked him.

He tasted like he smelled – delicious with a trace of salt. She nibbled into the hollow at the base of his neck then along his collarbone. A groan rumbled in his chest. Her hands slipped downward to his stomach where the skin smoothed over several ridges of muscle. They contracted at her touch, and he rolled on top of her, his weight bearing her onto the bed.

Crushing, but also exciting.

His legs locked on either side of hers while a ridge at his pelvis pressed into her center. She closed her eyes and moved her hips against him. Her breath caught at the sensation, and she moved again, then circled her arms around his waist to splay her palms on either side of his spine.

"Caitlin," he mumbled. His hand moved heavily over her, squeezing her breast then down to her waist. Through her light, linen chemise, her skin tingled. He thrust forward with his hips and she lifted to meet him. Sparks exploded behind her closed eyelids, and she moaned. She wanted to spread her thighs, but his legs held hers together.

He buried his hand in her hair and lifted his head. "Caitlin?" he asked, louder this time.

She opened her eyes. He had a flushed, sleepy expression, but his eyes glittered in a way she'd seen before – the night he'd kissed her in the hall. It made her heart race, the blood pound through her veins. Her lips and breasts felt tight and hot. Her center ached.