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she plumped her own breasts. Her legs slid out wide, the core of her beckoning him with an invitation he would never refuse.

“I want to taste ye, lass,” he said, bending his head between her knees. Kára’s breath sucked in as his mouth covered her, savoring the proof of her desire. He played her expertly, bringing her higher and higher. For long minutes she thrashed above him, her fingers curling into the quilts.

“Joshua Sinclair,” she gasped. He loved to hear his name on her tongue and continued loving her until she yelled, filling the underground space with the sound of her ultimate satisfaction.

Rising above her, he moved up her body, taking in the flushed glow of her skin in the firelight and her wide eyes. Her wry grin had been replaced by astonishment. Had no one ever pleasured her like that before? He smiled at the thought. “I promised to lick every bit of ye.”

Her breathing was labored. “I ache still.” She let her knees fall back out, and he grabbed around her hips, tilting her pelvis upward to meet him.

“Kára?” He fought for control, waiting for her answer. Aye or nay, although nay might strike him dead right there. “Kára? May I?”

“Aye,” she said, staring up into his face. With a guttural cry, Joshua thrust inside, and his eyes tipped upward as if he had found Heaven and wished to worship. Hot and wet, Kára totally engulfed him, and he rocked into her open body.

Gasping upon his first thrust, she drew shallow breaths and hooked her ankles across his back as if she wished to lock him up inside her. He would give his soul to be her prisoner.

They quickly created a rhythm, giving and taking with equal force. Her kisses were as open as her body and just as wild. Fingers raked through his hair and scratched his back, and he balled his fist into her long tresses as the tempo increased. When he felt upon the edge, he tried to pull out of her body, but she held him to her, continuing to thrust upward.

“I would not burden ye with a bastard, lass,” he managed to say, but she didn’t release him. “Kára—”

“Fill me full, Highlander.”

Her words tore through him. It was as if he could not physically leave her body as the two of them teetered on the edge with each thrust without restraint. Rising up higher on her body, he angled himself so the base of his jack rubbed against her most sensitive spot between them. Her eyes widened; her lips parted. Sweat beaded on Joshua’s forehead as their bodies strained together. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t shift his gaze from her beautiful eyes.

“My holy stars,” she screamed, and he felt her body clench.

Joshua roared as his release rolled through his body, and he swore she ripped a part of his soul from inside him. His teeth clapped together as they continued to ride out the waves of ecstasy, staring into each other’s eyes, firelight splashing gold against their skin.

Long, exquisite minutes later, they slowed. “Bloody holy stars” was right. He tried to move to the side, but she kept him there. He smiled. “Are ye keeping me prisoner then?”

Stretching her arms up over her head, he felt himself already start to harden at the rise of her breasts and feel of her body under him. “I would if I could,” she said and finally released her legs, so he could pull her to his side. He hugged her close, inhaling the mix of their scents.

The fire warmed the den that he hadn’t had time or desire to investigate before. Surrounded by interlocking stone, the walls of the medium-sized room rose up about eight feet in a rectangle. The floor was stone and scattered with woven rugs. The hearth sat in the center of the room where the smoke rose through the hole they had descended. A table and several shelves were made of stone and held baskets of food and bladders, hopefully of ale or fresh water.

Kára pulled a sewn quilt, painted with colorful flowers, over them, and he realized they lay in a nest of furs, pillows, and blankets on a thick tick on the stone floor. But what drew his eyes were the paintings on the walls. Bright renditions of birds and seascapes, of wind blowing wildflowers, and beautiful horses covered the stone all around them. When he looked back to her face, he realized she was watching him closely.

“What do you think of my den?” she asked.

“Surprising, beautiful, mysterious, and warm,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “Like ye, Calisto.”

She smiled widely and rolled out of their nest to pad across the room, and grabbed a bladder from a shelf. Totally naked and comfortable with it, she uncorked the bladder and drank. He watched the slender column of her throat as she swallowed, her lovely body laid bare to his gaze. It made him even thirstier. Her hips swayed naturally as she walked back, handing it to him.

Clear, fresh ale slid down his throat. When he lowered it, she was watching him, a tilt to her head and brows bent, studying him as if he were a riddle she must solve.

“What are ye thinking?” he asked, and she shook her head.

Kára lifted the quilt and climbed back under with him. She rolled onto her side, presenting her arse, and shifted until she pressed her entire backside into the curve of his body. His arm came over to stroke her stomach, marveling at the softness there.

“Let us sleep for a bit,” she said.

He laid his head back on the pillows, looking at the waves in her thick, golden hair. “Only for a bit?”

Her hand slid behind, her fingernail trailing along the muscles of his hip and thigh. “Until you’re ready for me to make you roar again,” she said, leaning back to smile up into his face, her earlier questioning look wiped away.

He returned her grin. “Then ye better fall asleep

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