I grab his face and turn him towards me, instantly serious.
“No. Don’t say that. Ever.”
“Fine, lass. It’s a figure of speech, that’s all.”
I kiss him. Passionate, yet gentle. Relaxing into the kiss, and though we only just finished, his manhood rises between us, ready for another round. There’s a lot to talk about, things to explain, but none of that is important.
He threads my hair through his fingers, then traces the line of my neck and shoulders while our lips taste one another. Exploring, savoring the taste of him. The smell of him. The feel of him. I shift, throwing a leg over so I’m straddling him, and lower myself onto his cock. We gasp in unison as he enters. The soreness in my pussy is somehow soothed by his reentry.
I seat on him fully, sitting and waiting, enjoying the sensations. We explore each other, small touches, tracing, trailing, and seeking while the kiss never stops. I give him everything and he returns it tenfold.
Murmurs of “I love you” pass between us, barely words, more thoughts given over to physical form of our connection. Power flows between us and I realize, on some level, that I no longer feel burned out like I did when I first got back. And when the power passes through him and returns to me it feels different, like it’s echoing on itself.
I raise myself up slowly and then make an incredible slide back down his shaft. I gasp and shiver, unable to contain myself it feels so good. He lifts my ass with me, pushing his hips up then pulling them down.
Then the baying of hounds bounces off the rocks, echoing in my ears.
ChapterTwenty-Five
In surprise,I twist towards the sound without thinking, only stopping when Duncan cries out in pain.
“Oh god, I’m sorry,” I say, rising and freeing his poor cock.
The dogs bay once again, followed by shouts. Fear makes my heart race and forms a cold sweat on my back.
“The clan!” Duncan exclaims, sitting upright.
He struggles to get to his feet, and I give him a hand up. His kilt is still hiked up and now I see that his leg has a nasty wound that looks infected. Which explains the way he’s been walking. He hops on his good leg a second to stabilize himself.
“We have to get back,” I say. He dropped his sword in the midst of our lovemaking. I grab it and hand the weapon to him. He draws it, the sound of the steel sliding free a whispered promise of death. “Your leg. Let me help.”
“There’s no time,” he says as a scream reaches us. I don’t ask permission again. Kneeling next to him I let the magical energy swirling in my guts flow. It goes so much easier and it’s stronger. I clasp my hands on his thigh above the infection. He yelps in surprise, hopping on his other leg. “Ach, that’s cold.”
“Hold still.”
I close my eyes and let the power build. Something resists, darkness in his leg pushes back against the light of my power. Then, when I increase the juice, it recedes, trying to hide in cracks and crevasses. I know very well there are no cracks and crevasses in his leg, but it’s a concept and makes sense in my head.
I flow more power, flooding his leg, then it feels like something pops. Duncan gasps loudly and he presses his leg down.
“Quinn, it worked.”
He sounds surprised as I rise so I smile.
“Come on, we need to help them.”
I take his hand and together we run for the clan. Before we get to the edge of the cliff where we can see, there are the sounds of battle, steel ringing on steel. Men roar battle cries which are followed by screams of pain, loss, and despair. Smoke rises in long dark columns and the scent of burning is choking.
Adrenaline is making my muscles jittery as we run to where we can look over the edge of the cliff. Below us is chaos. Packs of dogs run wild through the MacGregors, baying, snapping, and biting. Three children run into the cave with four hounds right on their heels.
A blinding rage bursts in my head. I reach out my hand and magical energy coalesces. I pull my fist back and thrust it forward, punching the air. The magic blasts out and the dogs are thrown back, yelping in pain.
“Come on,” Duncan yells, already partway down the trail.
I run and am at his side in moments. We race down the narrowing trail, skid around the switchback, and then are on the angle down to the camp. Gunshots fire and stone explodes next to my face. Sharp shards cut my face, but I don’t slow down. They’re killing indiscriminately. The hunters are monsters and if I am going to embody being a Destroyer, then they are going to feel that wrath.
“Back.” Alesoun’s voice.
She’s in the cave entrance holding a broom by the handle and swinging it wildly. Dogs growl and snap, dodging around her erratic swings. I don’t know any magic spells or really have any clue how to use my powers. I’m sure there are ways to do this with style and finesse, but I’m a bumbling, inept sledgehammer.