He hadn’t been able to think of anything else since she’d brought it up, lust driving away the lingering darkness from the nightmare about his mother, taking his mind off Jack’s murder. His cock was half-hard, his body hyperaware of her—every motion, every touch, every glance.
They explored the castle’s prison, walked through the barrel-vaulted basement, and climbed the iron ladders up to the top of the northeast tower, her ass enticing him all the way. A fence formed a border around the edges of the tower, giving them a view of southeast Glasgow below.
“Beautiful.” Elizabeth came to stand just in front of him, reaching back to rub her hand over his fly. “What’s that river?”
“That’s Levern Water.”
At one time, he had hated this place. Growing up, he’d thought of nothing but getting away. But the city had changed in the past decade, and so had he.
Below, the older couple walked down the hill.
She looked back at him. “They’re leaving.”
“I see that.” Anticipation whipped through him, his jeans now uncomfortably tight. “Come.”
She wanted sex in a public place, pure gaggin’ for it, and he would bloody well give it to her.
He led her down the ladder to the room below. There was only one window, daylight streaming through an arched opening in the wall, the air thick with the scents of rain, moss, and the ancient echo of wood smoke.
Quinn moved in on her the moment her shoes hit the floor, backing her up against the wall, desire rushing through his veins. “You’re wantin’ pumped the now, aye?”
“If you’re asking whether I want you to fuck meright now, then, hell, yes.”
He kissed her hard, already on fire for her. She kissed him back, reaching down to unzip first her jeans and then his, freeing his erection, stroking the length of him. Then she did something Quinn would never have imagined.
She stepped away from him into the middle of the room, pushed her jeans down to her ankles, and dropped onto her hands and knees, giving him a glorious view of her bare ass, exposing herself to him completely.
“Jesus!” He took in the sight of her, his heart slamming.
He dropped to his knees behind her, grasped her bare hips, and nudged his cock into her, entering her with a single, slow thrust.
It felt so good, her quim tight and hot. He’d meant to go slowly, but the thrill of fucking her here was too much, the element of danger heightening his excitement. He pounded into her, hard and fast, but he didn’t want to leave her behind.
He reached around to stroke her clit, doing his best to please her.
Her response was immediate, her moans echoing through the castle.
Then Quinn heard it—voices.
“Shhh.” He clamped a hand over Elizabeth’s mouth—but he kept fucking her.
When he was certain she understood, he went back to stroking her clit, still driving into her, the first hint of orgasm dragging at him, his balls tight.
The voices grew nearer.
Still, he didn’t stop, thrusting into her luscious body again and again and again, the risk of being discovered very real now—and very exciting. She was getting close, her hands clawing at the stone floor, her head tilted back, her eyes squeezed shut.
She went stiff, gasped, arched, bliss like sunshine on her face as she came.
That was all he needed, his hips a piston as he finished inside her, orgasm hitting him with the force of a blast wave, the release scorching and sweet.
“I’m certain I was wearing both gloves when we climbed the tower.” Quinn recognized the voice. It was the Englishman they’d seen earlier. “You stay here, dear, and I’ll go up to see if it’s there.”
Quinn withdrew from Elizabeth’s body, stuffed his half-hard cock back into his jeans, then helped her to her feet. Fighting laughter, she pulled up her jeans and had just zipped them when Quinn heard the man’s shoes on the ladder.
“What year did you say it was built?” Quinn asked, pretending to be in the midst of a conversation.
“Fourteen-hundred.”