Battered Not Broken by Celia Kyle

wiped the snow and bark debris from her
hair, her fingers came away smeared in blood. Now they’d never let
her out of the house by herself. After a few minutes, the bleeding
seemed to stop and she hoisted her body from the ground. Ass soaked
from sitting in the snow, she looked around, trying to find the
trail. She couldn’t see the “unmissable” trail, but could hear the
gurgle of water in the distance. Hoping the sound came from the
river the brothers had said Conner liked to sit near, she took off
at a slow plod toward the noise.
    Coming through the trees, she found Conner
just where Ronan and Max said he would be—sitting on a twenty-foot
high natural outcropping of rocks along the river’s edge, staring
into the water. The sound of the water muffled her approach, and he
didn’t turn to look at her until she’d nearly crawled onto the
mound next to him. When he did notice her, he acted as if the world
was coming to an end.
    “Gillian! God! Are you okay?”
    He jumped to his feet in one fluid movement
and pulled her into his arms. The Bearclaw brothers sure did seem
to have a thing with holding her. He lowered the two of them to the
cold stone, cradling her weight in his lap. As soon as he’d settled
her, he tugged off a glove and his cool fingers stroked the hair
out of her eyes. She leaned into the touch, craving the feel of his
skin against hers.
    “Are you okay, Gillian? What happened,
poppet?”
    She sighed and let her eyes close as she
snuggled closer to his warmth. She really did like his nickname for
her.
    “Nothing. Well, a tree sort of happened, but
it doesn’t matter. I wanted to come looking for you. I heard you
three arguing, and I told Ronan and Max I wanted to leave…”
    “You’re not leaving.”
    His arms tightened around her. Smiling she
looked into a pair of eyes which seemed so like Ronan and Max’s,
but different just the same.
    “No, I’m not. At least, I’m not if I’m
satisfied with our conversation.”
    Conner stiffened beneath her, it felt like
she now sat on a wooden board instead of Conner’s fleshy lap, but
she snuggled closer, ignoring the tension humming through him. Good, let him be the one on edge for once.
    “What do you want to know? What can I say to
make you want to stay?”
    “The truth. Nothing more than the truth.”
    “You might not like the truth, and then
you’ll leave.”
    She gazed at him and ran a finger down his
cheek. His stubble scratched her skin and causing goose bumps to
rise along her arm.
    “Would you want to keep me with a lie?”
    “No, of course not.”
    “Then trust me the way I’ve trusted the three
of you for the past two days. Can you give me your trust,
Conner?”
    Instead of answering, he lowered his head to
hers, brushing his lips in a soft sweet caress of skin against
skin. His weather-cold lips warmed with each kiss. Infused with
daring, she snaked her tongue out to slide along the seam of his
lips, savoring his flavor as she begged for entrance. Conner
obliged, spreading his heated lips he gave her free reign to
explore the moist cavern of his mouth.
    Gillian surged closer to Conner and slid her
arms around his neck, tugging his chest to press against hers. More. She needed more. Sliding her hands beneath his jacket,
she clutched his back ran her fingers over the taut,
flannel-covered muscles.
    Her tongue devoured Conner’s mouth, licking
and tasting his very essence; a mixture of hickory smoke and earth,
musky and strong, like him. He moaned against her lips as she
sucked his tongue, showing him others things she could do with her
mouth, her lips. She made sweeping, swirling motions in his mouth,
teasing and dancing as they both fought for dominance. Each time
she won, and she arched closer, pressed harder, demanding more.
    Sliding her hands to his chest, she kneaded
the tightened muscles, felt the tense jerks each time she sucked
hard, and the delicate release of muscle as she released the
suction. His cock, hard and thick