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Back The Darkest Shore Save as PDF
Chapters (76)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Karen Brooks
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. EXPLANATORY NOTE
  7. PART ONE
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Fifteen
  23. Sixteen
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Twenty
  28. Twenty-One
  29. Twenty-Two
  30. Twenty-Three
  31. Twenty-Four
  32. Twenty-Five
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. PART TWO
  37. Twenty-Nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. PART THREE
  45. Thirty-Six
  46. Thirty-Seven
  47. Thirty-Eight
  48. Thirty-Nine
  49. Forty
  50. Forty-One
  51. Forty-Two
  52. Forty-Three
  53. Forty-Four
  54. Forty-Five
  55. Forty-Six
  56. Forty-Seven
  57. Forty-Eight
  58. Forty-Nine
  59. Fifty
  60. Fifty-One
  61. Fifty-Two
  62. PART FOUR
  63. Fifty-Three
  64. Fifty-Four
  65. Fifty-Five
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Fifty-Seven
  68. Fifty-Eight
  69. Fifty-Nine
  70. Sixty
  71. Sixty-One
  72. Epilogue: Autumn 1706
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. GLOSSARY
  75. LIST OF CHARACTERS
  76. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

He bent his head and dropped long, slow kisses on her breasts, travelling down her body, using his mouth and tongue to explore her flesh, every single cut, scar and bruise.

It was all Sorcha could do to lie still. The pain, the pleasure. Little fires were being lit all over her body, stoked until she became a furnace.

Parting her legs, he ignored her light objection and ran his nose and cheek up the insides of her thighs, speaking words that singed her flesh, sent a trail of goosebumps from her centre to her throat. She tossed her head to one side and back again. Helpless, yet powerful, too, Sorcha trembled all over.

She reached down and scrambled at his breeches, meeting his busy fingers as she rid him of the last of his clothes. She could feel and see his hardness. Dear God, he was the beautiful one. And he wanted her.

Sorcha held his head, felt his tongue, his mouth against her centre, molten, then firm. Waves of glorious pleasure overrode any pain as she lost herself in a place of starlight, moonbeams and the crashing of the ocean.

When she cried out, her body stiffening before releasing, he didn’t stop, but held her as she shuddered against him again and again. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, down her neck. Tears of joy and utter wonder.

This, she thought, this was how love feels.

Dear God… love? Did she love this man?

As he crawled up her body, a rain of light kisses scorching her flesh in his wake, she knew in her heart she did.

With a wicked grin, he kissed her mouth once again, lingering upon her lips, tugging her bottom one with his teeth. Gently, he lowered himself onto her. ‘I’m not hurting you, am I?’

‘Och, aye,’ she said, imitating his speech. ‘And it’s this kind of hurting I be wanting.’

‘Are you sure, Sorcha?’ he asked, staring into her eyes, holding himself back. ‘Because I tell you now, it’s the loving kind I want to give you.’

In their dark depths, she saw what she’d always hoped she would — desire, compassion, respect, fierce protectiveness and, above all, passion. It was what she felt too.

‘Aye, Aidan, I’m sure,’ she murmured and, as he entered her, she knew her search for the type of love she’d longed for was over.

After a time, she slid down his body, ignoring the pinch of healing wounds, and whispered, ‘Now, let me love you the same way too.’

Thirty-One

THIRTY-ONE

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Back tae auld claes an’ parritch.

(Back to old familiar things.)

As she stared out the window of her cottage one bright September dawn, Sorcha’s thoughts ran inwards.