Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Her body was rigid from holding herself so stiffly, and she stumbled as he drew her into his arms.
“I will always be there to catch you if you should fall,” he whispered in her ear. “And I know you will do the same for me, for we love each other.”
A tear trickled down her cheek as she looked into his eyes and he kissed it away.
“I cannot promise I will kiss all your tears away, but I will promise that I will never make you cry and I will never let you cry alone.”
She did not hesitate to kiss him; she needed to kiss him, to know that this was not a dream. His lips were warm and welcoming and so very gentle.
He eased his lips away to say, “I love you, believe that I love you.”
A faint brush of his lips over hers had tingles racing through her and she eagerly captured his lips for a more fervent kiss.
As the kiss heated so did Fiona’s body and she grabbed at his tunic, wanting desperately to rip it off his body and feel his naked flesh.
She refused to end the kiss, her need for him growing more potent as their bodies pressed tightly to each other.
Finally Tarr grabbed the back of her wild red hair and yanked her head back, freeing their lips. “Keep this up, Fiona, and it will end in my bed.”
Her answer was to reach for his lips.
He gave them to her, grabbed her around the waist, she wrapping her legs around him as he carried her to the bed. They fell down upon it as one, she on top of him and he tugging at the ties to her blouse.
Her breast finally fell free and his mouth caught her nipple. She gasped, her head falling forward to rest on his forehead as he teased her nipple unmercifully with his tongue. Her hair fell around them, concealing the intimate act. She straddled him while he feasted at her bosom, sending a rush of power through her, firing her desire beyond reason.
She shifted her body until it fit against his potent erection and then she rubbed against him until she was wet.
He grabbed her backside and yanked her skirt up. His fingers squeezed at her bottom then hurried forward to touch her wetness. She yelped at the shot of passion that hit her like a bolt of lightning, and she moaned as his fingers played with her.
“You’re mine,” he said, his free hand grabbing her around the neck and pulling her mouth to his. “Always mine.”
His words suddenly hit her like a splash of icy cold water to her face and she tore free of his grasp and flew off him to stand, nearly breathless, at the end of the bed.
“What is wrong?” His own breath was labored.
She shook her head and, realizing her breast hung free of her blouse, she slipped it in and with shaking hands tied the strings tightly.
Tarr sat up and Fiona backed away.
He remained still. “Tell me what is wrong.”
She continued to shake her head and fled the room, leaving him sitting on the bed stunned.
Fiona raced up the flight of stone steps, praying Aliss was in their room by now, but she found Anya sitting in the chair near the hearth instead. Her frantic entrance had Anya jumping up and once she saw the tears in her daughter’s eyes, she held her arms out to her. Fiona did not hesitate, she rushed into them and released her tears on her mother’s shoulder.
When Fiona’s tears were finally spent, mother and daughter sat on the bed together, Anya’s arm remaining firm around her daughter.
“The talk did not go well with Tarr?”
Fiona sniffled. “I am a fool.”
“We are all fools when it comes to love.”
“He does not love me.”
“Why do you think that?” Anya asked.
Fiona wiped at her red swollen eyes as she spoke. “He attempted to convince me with simple, thoughtful words then while he—”
Anya patted her hand, understanding what she could not say. “Intimacy is natural between those in love.”
Fiona sighed. “He said always mine, which meant he thought I belonged to him since first we met. He does not love me, I am but chattel to him, no more.”
“I can see why you doubt him.”
“You can?” Fiona asked with a breath of relief.
“Of course. You want to trust him completely, and how can you? He lies.”
Fiona’s eyes rounded. “He does not lie. He is a man of his word. A true warrior.”
“Is he now?”
“Aye, he protects his clan with pride and strength and provides well for them, which is why he sought a marriage with me.”
“Then you are his chattel.”
“A good marriage was necessary for his clan’s survival,” she defended
“He told you this?” Anya asked.
“Repeatedly. He was honest with me from the very beginning.”