The Highlander's Time

against her. Her damp folds begged for his cock. “I want you.”
    Since when have I ever wanted a man? Never. They wanted her to work off a hormonal edge or because they thought sex was part of a relationship.
    “A moment, lass.” He pushed her gown down so it puddled around her feet. Keeping her in place with an arm around her waist, she felt him fumble with something behind her. His hand skimmed down her belly and he splayed his fingers above the thatch of curls at the juncture of her thighs.
    Her knees dipped when he shifted his hand lower to cup her femininity. He teased and toyed with her clit until her legs quaked. Ready to demand sex from him, she let out a low moan when he eased a finger into her soaking vagina.
    The crushing crescendo gripped her when he freed his penis. She gasped as he nestled his erection between her ass cheeks. His finger plunged into her. His lips never left her skin.
    Then, when she was on the brink of a mind-blowing climax, the onslaught stopped. “No.” Ready to claw his eyes out for leaving her like this, she turned and wrapped her arms around him.
    “Get thee to bed.”
    Dazed, Jenny blinked several times. The pulsing throb in her core beat down to her toes. “Don't stop.”
    She raised her eyes to meet his and the strength of his gaze reached inside of her, beyond mere lust to something much deeper. A primal need she'd never seen before stared back at her.
    “Bed,” he said and pointed to mussed covers.
    “Oh, sure.”
    He didn't wait for her to obey, but picked her up and carried her to the same spot where they'd begun. She relaxed beneath him when he followed her down and covered her with his big body.
    Easing her legs apart to accommodate his thighs, she exhaled as he entered her in a slow thrust.
    “Hold onto me, lass.”
    She did as he asked as her feminine muscles contracted around him. Her heart leaped to her throat at the sensation of being filled so fully. She clung to his shoulders.
    He began to thrust, hard and deep, each movement shuddering through her, sending her spiraling upward. The throb turned to a lancing pulse.
    She clutched him, surrendering to the onslaught, barely aware of his heavy, rasping breaths, the slickness of sweat beneath her hands, the muscles of his thighs knotting against her own taut flesh. She screamed as her climax rifled through her.
    He was right behind her. His hot ejaculation filled her. The only thing that saved him from crushing her was his weight propped on his elbows.
    “Jenny.”
    The way he whispered her name against her lips was the best thing he could have done. It was perfect, just like the sex they'd shared. She gave him a long kiss. “Thank you,” she breathed, her heart still racing in her chest.
    A bemused smile marred the chiseled planes of his face. Rolling off her, he carried her along. Tucked against his side, Jenny heaved a happy sigh. “That was great.”
    Reality encroached on her as her heart slowed and her respirations returned to normal. The specter of future responsibility she'd basked beneath didn't change shape or purpose in the past. She needed to get back to her room, back to the starkness of her sad life, but the thought of leaving him made her heart ache. “I should leave.”
    He didn't say anything when she exited the bed however; the feel of his gaze trailing her was unshakable. Tears stung at her eyes while she tossed on her nightgown. She quickly picked up his clothes, folded them and set them on top of a chest. “I don't know if I'll see you tomorrow. If I don't, have a good day.”
    When he startled her at the door, she uttered a surprised, “Ah.” How a man as big as he could move so fast and silently was beyond her. “Really, I should get back to Lila. I'll be fine. I promise there'll be no more tears.” Yeah, right . Even before she turned the iron ring to open the door the wetness overflowed her eyes. An apology sat on the tip of her tongue, but for the life of her, she didn't know what she was sorry about. “Please, let me go.”
    He dropped his bombshell in stilted French. “My wife sleeps with me.”
    Spinning around, Jenny gaped at him. “Your...what?” Maybe she hadn't heard him right or he'd used the word 'wife' without really knowing what it meant. After all, Father Thomas had said there were only a few members of the clan who spoke broken French, Iaen amongst them. That had to be it. He'd confused the term. He couldn't possibly mean he wanted her for a wife.
    “I