“If he’s as powerful as you think, then he’ll find me wherever I go.”
Charon glanced at the floor. “No’ if you go to the MacLeods.”
She slapped her hands on the couch in frustration. “Who are these MacLeods?”
“People who can protect you,” Phelan said. “The Druids there shield the castle with magic so no one can see it. Their magic is extremely powerful.”
Laura looked at Charon, but once more he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She didn’t want to leave him, because she knew if she did, she’d never see him again. He’d erase himself from her life, from Ferness.
The sorrow that came sucked her under until she couldn’t get her bearings. “How long will I need to stay at the MacLeods?”
“Until this is over,” Charon answered. “I doona know how long that’ll be. We’ve been battling this evil for what seems like eternity.”
She glanced at Phelan to see him watching Charon intently. “Will you come to the MacLeods?” she asked Charon.
When he didn’t answer, she rose and walked to him. She stood in front of him until his gaze locked with hers. Growing up in England, she had been meek and subservient to her mother and sister while her father pretended everything was all right.
She did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Until one day she snapped. Laura left her family behind and began to live for the first time. But it hadn’t been until she met Charon that she realized what she really wanted. Him.
Now he was sending her away. To protect her, yes, but it would mean never seeing him again.
“For so many years I was afraid to take what I wanted. I’m not going to stand aside now,” she whispered before she rose up and kissed him.
For a heartbeat he simply stood there, his lips unmoving against hers. Then, as if a dam broke, his arms clasped her to him as he roughly turned and pushed her against the wall to cover her body with his.
He seized, he captured.
He conquered.
Laura’s fingers delved into the cool strands of his dark hair. One jeans-clad leg wedged between hers, the rough denim rubbing against her bare thigh.
He kissed her with abandon. Wildly, recklessly. Madly. His tongue touched every part of her mouth as if he were learning her, exploring her.
All she could do was hold on to him as he deepened the kiss, urging her to let go. So she did. His hands held her even when her legs gave out from the sheer amount of passion coursing through her.
Dimly, she heard the glass door open and close and knew Phelan had left them alone.
She clung to Charon as his kisses made a path down her neck and into the vee of her shirt. Her breasts swelled, eager for his touch.
“Laura,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning her skin.
Her name had never sounded so beautiful as it did coming from his lips. He spoke it like a prayer, whispered and reverent.
And then he was kissing her again.
She clawed at his shirt until she found skin. He broke the kiss long enough to yank the shirt over his head, and then he claimed her lips again.
Laura ran her hands up his chest, learning every valley and ripple of steely muscle beneath his warm skin. How many times had she seen him without his shirt and longed to touch him?
Her lungs seized when his hand touched her bare thigh and slowly, leisurely moved upward. He squeezed her butt and ground his hips against her. Instinctively, she rocked her hips, his hard arousal causing her own passion to quicken.
His hand moved to her hip, where he rested it for the barest of moments, fingering the lace of her panties, before he continued his upward journey to her waist and stopping just short of her breasts.
Laura moaned with need, silently urging him to cup her breast. She needed him to touch her like she needed the air to breathe.
His thumb grazed the underside of her breasts, causing her nipples to harden. Laura wrapped a leg around his, anything to bring him closer and quench the burgeoning need that was rapidly overtaking her.
And then, finally, he cupped her breast.
Laura sighed into his mouth, but that sigh quickly turned into a moan as he ran his thumb over her nipple.
He pressed his hard cock against her, urging her higher. Laura sank her nails into his shoulder when he rolled her nipple between his fingers.
She was panting with need. Every fiber of her being centered on Charon and his touch.
Suddenly, he gripped the edge of her shirt and ripped it open. The sound of buttons hitting the wood floor and bouncing away was drowned out by his low moan.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
Laura didn’t shy away from him as Charon gazed at her breasts. She’d always thought them too big, but with the way he was looking at her, she suddenly enjoyed them.
She tucked a finger in the waistband of his jeans and heard his quick intake of air as that same finger grazed the head of his cock.