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fountain’s rim behind his knees.
    "Are you so sure you would rather not have me stay?" She advanced, gliding toward him on silent feet,
    and reached out a slim hand to touch his cheek.
    Conar groaned, low in his throat, deep in his soul. Her touch was like velvet, like the warm kiss of the
    sun’s rays of a spring day after a harsh, dark winter. He shivered, savoring the touch, marveling in the
    deep, sensual need running rampant through his quivering body. As her fingers moved, caressed his
    chilled flesh, he stared into eyes as black as onyx.
    "Would you have me go and never know the feel of my lips on yours?" she asked and moved so that her
    body touched his.
    Conar gasped, sucking in his breath at the sensation of her lush curves easing along the hard length of his
    body. He couldn’t breathe; couldn’t speak; couldn’t seem to move. He was drowning in her gaze, his
    blood boiling.
    "Would you not wonder what my mouth would taste like?" Her thumb eased over his mouth and
    smoothed the flesh along his upper lip, parting the full flesh and stroking his lips so tenderly he wanted to
    cry with the pain of it. The silk of her thumb slipped slowly into his mouth, pulled down the lower lip and
    slid across its length. Her fingernail grazed his teeth.
    His knees wanted to buckle. He whimpered, his ache building to the point of release. He wondered that
    he could stand there, trembling as he was, without sliding to the ground in a mangled heap.
    "Would you not forever wonder what it would have been like to return my kiss, Conar McGregor?" She
    took her thumb from his lip, brought her hand to her mouth, slipped her index finger between the scarlet
    lips, and sucked on it. She wet it before putting the tip to Conar’s mouth, circling his lips with her
    moistened finger, tracing his flesh with her own saliva.
    An animalistic groan came from him, the sound of a creature in the throes of some great exacting torture.
    His eyes flared with shock, with intense desire, and it was all he could do not to crush her to him, to
    ravage her like the rutting beast he felt he was becoming.
    "You want me as you have never wanted another woman. Don’t you, McGregor?"
    For a moment he couldn’t speak. His need was too great, his agony too intense. He held her gaze,
    feeling her index finger slip between his lips. Without thinking, without conscious awareness that he was
    doing so, he sucked it deep into his mouth, wetting it, circling it with his tongue, drawing on it as though it
    were her nipple, until she withdrew it and brought the moist tip to her own lips.
    "Do you want me, McGregor?"
    "Aye," he forced out between parted, gasping lips. "I do want you!"
    Again, her smile grew evil. Her fingers came to him, threaded through the gold of his hair to bring his
    face forward, toward hers. She lifted her head and covered his mouth with her own, drawing on his lips
    as though she would drain every ounce of resistance from his body. Her kiss was mind numbing, as
    intoxicating as an expensive vintage wine. When she pulled back to look at him, he felt a hunger such as
    he had never known.
    "I want you," he said gruffly.
    "I want you, as well."
    With their gazes locked, she put her arms around his neck, pressed herself to him, and molded her body
    as tightly to his as their clothing would allow. She rubbed against him and a light laugh came from her
    seductive lips as his needful groan came barreling up from his soul. As her lips again took his, the heady
    sweetness of the touch was nearly his undoing.
    Of their own volition, his arms went around her, drawing her to him, tightly clasping her body, his lips
    moving beneath hers until his mouth became the captor; he, the ravisher. He deeply thrust his tongue into
    the sweetness of her mouth and growled, feeling her own slip around his as she suckled him.
    He lifted her free of the ground and slid her rump onto the rim of the fountain behind him. He slipped
    between her legs, pushed up her gown, his