Page 56 of Bound to a Warrior
“That she is,” Duncan said with a laugh.
“And your father?”
“He’s a quiet man, though speaks his mind when he feels it necessary.”
“You admire him, don’t you?” she asked.
“Very much,” Duncan admitted. “But what ofyourfather?”
Mercy remained silent for a moment and then responded, though reluctantly. “I didn’t see much of my father. Tell me more about your home. It sounds wonderful.”
It was obvious she had no desire to speak of her father or mother and so he did as she asked and regaled her with stories about his family.
By the time they retired for the night the storm had subsided, the pounding rain turning into a gentle tap against the cottage and the wind dying to a whisper.
“You wish a large family of your own?” Mercy asked as Duncan covered them with a soft wool blanket before lying beside her.
“Aye, I do,” Duncan said. “I couldn’t imagine growing up without my brothers. When first we met, we knew we were family, even though different blood coursed through us. It was as though we had always known each other, similar to when you and I first met.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
Duncan ran his finger gently along the ridges on her brow. “We’ve worked well together from the beginning. And to do that there had to be a degree of trust, which usually is only given to someone you’re familiar with. Therefore, we were familiar with each other from the start. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel the same yourself?”
She hesitated only a moment. “You’re right. I would have never jumped off the cliff if I hadn’t believed in you.”
Duncan felt the recognizable catch to his gut. She had a way of doing that to him, stabbing at him, making him feel things foreign and yet somehow familiar. He had spent so much time on seeing that the mission succeeded that he had ignored his own wants and needs. He had told himself that there would be time for that later.
Then Mercy entered his life and later suddenly became now.
He soothed her brow until the ridges were no more. “See, you and I were meant to be right from the very beginning.”
“How can you be so sure?” she asked with an ache that tore at his heart.
“Because,” he said, brushing his lips over hers, “you believe in me and that takes trust and trust is the foundation that binds.”
She shook the chain that joined them. “This also binds, but for a time only.”
“But this,” he said and kissed her with an intensity that quickly stirred their passion, “binds forever.”
“Not so,” she whispered breathlessly.
“Aye, it does,” he insisted and kissed her again. This time his tongue slipped in to mate with hers in a familiar rhythm as old as time.
She tasted luscious and he couldn’t quite get enough of her. While he tasted, his hand drifted beneath her blouse and settled over her full breast that fit perfectly in his hand. Her hardened nipple poked his palm and he was quick to tease it with his fingers.
She groaned in his mouth and her body arched, as if pleading for more and he wanted to give her what she wanted. He lifted her blouse slowly, giving her time to object if she wished. But she didn’t and when finally her beautiful breast lay exposed, she shivered.
She needed heat and he intended to give her not only what she wanted, but what she needed. He lowered his mouth to her nipples and with the first lick of his tongue across the hardened nub she groaned and dug her fingers into his scalp.
He didn’t stop. He knew she didn’t want him to and he didn’t want to. He feasted on the rosy orb enjoying it as the special treat it was and lingering in its addictive sweetness.
Her continued assault on his scalp aroused him even more since it felt as if she urged him not to stop and he had no intentions of stopping. They were alone with no threat of discovery and it seemed only natural that they finally consummate what was inevitable…their union.
His hand loosened the band of her skirt and eased it down far enough for his foot to grasp hold of and push it away. Then his hand explored traveling over her flat stomach and slipping discreetly between her legs.
When his fingers found her wet warmth he almost lost his patience. Knowing that she grew wet so easily for him had his own passion surging strong, but he had to remember her innocence.
It was all new to her and he didn’t want this plunge to be like her plunge into the cold water. He wanted it filled with warmth and gentleness and memories that would forever haunt her mind and make her want more.
