Torrin hissed a curse; he was observing her most private parts just as she was his. Her first instinct was to close her legs, but she couldn't. He was sitting between them. But more importantly, she wasn't afraid of him, nor ashamed.

He moved over her again, his elbow on the ground by her head. He gave her a fiercely erotic kiss while the tip of his shaft brushed against her most intimate spot.

"Aye," she whispered, widening her legs. He moaned, nudging against her, into her. She drew in a breath and held it.

"Breathe, Jessie," he whispered.

"I am." Her voice was uneven.

"Look into my eyes."

She did, unable to believe the depth of emotion she saw there.

With a gentle but persistent thrust of his hips, he pushed deeper. A stitch of pain caught her and she gasped.

He halted. "Did I hurt you?"

"Nay, 'tis only… it has been a long while since…"

He nodded, his look darkening. "Just relax and trust me. I'll make you forget about him."

Torrin was right; a moment later, he was the focus of her existence. His scorching kisses mimicked the erotic moves of his body. He surged into her and away at an ever intensifying pace. Naught but pleasure and need ricocheted throughout her entire body. She no longer remembered who she was, only that she never wanted him to stop what he was doing.

Cold water from Torrin's wet hair dripped onto the sun-warmed skin of her face and neck as he pounded into her. Hot shivers spiraled through her, along with pleasure that darted and whizzed along her limbs.

He growled in her ear and slowed.

"Nay, keep going," she begged.

"Saints, lass," he hissed and moved his hand between their bodies. When he stroked her, she thought she would explode. She cried out, holding her breath with the increasing sensations. Nay, she could not breathe while he did that… whatever he was doing with his thumb, circling some especially sensitive spot. It felt like magic.

He slid deep, then away. Something inside her caught like throwing whisky on a fire, and she burst into flames. Her body bowed and shoved against his, beyond her control. What was happening? What sorcery had he worked on her? She knew she was screaming but couldn't stop. His mouth closed over hers, muffling her cries and his body ground against hers, deep into hers, over and over, the most perfect feeling in the world. She held onto him, grasping him to her, never wanting him to let go.

He roared in her ear, his body shuddering forcefully against hers.

A moment later, he breathed a curse and collapsed on the sand beside her, rolling her to face him, pulling her tight against him. "Saints! That was heaven on earth," he whispered between harsh breaths.

"Aye." 'Twas true. She didn't understand what she'd felt—that moment of pure bliss that had taken her breath and her mind—but she was too embarrassed to ask him about it.

Observing her a long moment while they caught their breaths, he grinned. "You have a beautiful smile."

She hadn't even realized she was smiling, but indeed she was incredibly happy for the first time in a very long time. Of course, her family made her happy, too. But even with them, she sometimes felt lonely or incomplete.

But Torrin had given her joy such as she'd rarely experienced. And why shouldn't she take her happiness where she could find it? She was no longer a young lass, needing to keep her virtue intact for some future husband. If she was barren, a tumble on the sand wouldn't matter. And if she wasn't… if Torrin got her with child… she didn't know. Did she wish to marry him? Before today, she hadn't thought so, but after what they'd just shared, she was certainly tempted. The emotion and passion in his eyes had held her spellbound. But would he lose interest and desert her as the other men had? Just the thought of it sent an ache through her stomach. If she fell for Torrin and he rejected her, she would never recover. There were too many unanswered questions and unfortunately she couldn't see into the future.

"Come, let's go for a swim." He stood and helped her up.

Her face heated for she still couldn't get used to his naked body, despite what they'd just shared.

"But you must get rid of this first." He bent and raised the hem of her smock, but her arms prevented him from lifting it over her head.

"Nay! What if someone should come along?" She glanced up at the cliffs and the high bank surrounding them.

"Do you see anyone? We're over a mile from the village and further than that from the castle."

She bit her lip. His suggestion was tempting. How glorious it would feel to swim in the sea naked. She hadn't done so since last year.

"We'll spread the garment over this rock and it will dry in the sun and breeze by the time we're done swimming."

She glanced around, making sure no one was above them looking down. "Oh, very well." She lifted the smock over her head. He took it from her and spread it over the boulder.

His gaze skimmed over her, then lingered on her breasts. "Saints. You are the loveliest of sights."

She suppressed the urge to fold her arms over her breasts. "You're not so bad yourself, MacLeod."

He gave her an amused smirk. "Come. It's been a while since I swam in the sea for any length of time. And today's a rare warm day."

He dove under the water and she didn't see him for several moments, until he emerged thirty feet away. Not to be outdone, she took a deep breath and dove beneath the waves. Seconds later, she grabbed onto him and rose above the surface.

"I don't ken any other lady who could do that," he said.

She savored his compliment, but at the same time, it made her wonder. "Do you ken a lot of ladies?"

"Nay, not that many." He grinned.

Jealousy arose, unbidden. "Liar. I'm certain you have known many in the Biblical sense."

"I remember none of them."

"I don't care for insincere sweet talk."

"Nor do I. I've not so much as looked at another woman, much less touched one, since the night we met."

She searched his gaze, looking for insincerity, but could find none. Either he was telling the truth or he was a very skilled liar.

"I knew then that I wanted you and no one else would suffice."

Why? How? She had a thousand questions to ask him, but she didn't wish to get into any serious discussions now.

He grasped her around the waist as her toes barely touched the sandy bottom. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she slid her arms around his neck. His salty, sweet kiss was like the best of treats.

He trailed his tongue down her throat and, lifting her into the air, fastened his hot lips onto one of her nipples. She gasped as fiery arousal blasted through her.

Torrin pulled Jessie's long legs around his waist and strode from the water with her. Damnation, he must have her again. Now. It had only been a few minutes since his release but he was already fully aroused again. The first time with her had been astounding, earth-shaking, and far beyond his wildest dreams. He could've never imagined such pleasure as that which crashed through him with his release.

Gently, he lay her on the sun-warmed woolen plaid—her arisaid—their bare, wet skin sliding together.

"Saints, Jessie. I want you again," he said against her luscious lips.

"Aye. Take me." Between kisses, she whispered those sweet words in a desperate tone that only aroused him more.

After positioning himself, he pushed into her slowly, gradually, savoring each glorious inch. Her delicious, wet heat enveloped him. He looked into her dark blue eyes, seeing more passion than ever before. Though it might be sacrilege, he prayed that she could love him, that she would need him as much as he needed her.