A Storm of Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

shifted, pushing farther into the wench’s mouth. Her hair fell like a curtain around her, brushing his thighs and groin as she moved up and down again and again, pulling on his length until he felt his sac tauten and his release spew into her. She did not stop until every drop had been drawn from him.
    Whatever feelings of pleasure he’d experienced waned quickly, and he sat there with a girl who wasn’t the one he wanted between his legs, servicing him just as so many others had but with one difference now: the momentarily relief could not disguise the disappointment rushing through him.
    But when she began to caress him once more, sliding those experienced hands over his thighs and belly and then down to his half-erect cock, he let her.
    He just did not have the strength to fight the call in his blood. The visions were coming, and they proved his master yet again.

Chapter Three
    T he scene burst out before Connor and he was tempted to delay in his quest for the sheer enjoyment of such lightness and beauty. And clarity. The sky filled with huge white clouds. The sun’s rays traced their outlines on the sea and ground below, barely able to keep up as they raced on the Highland winds. Following the coast, he searched for the cliffs and the loch that sliced into the land, making a path toward the higher mountain peaks.
    As though a bird in flight, Connor sighted the trail that led over the mountains and followed it, on and on, until the castle came into view. Rough stone walls topped with a wooden roof, surrounded by another ring of tall stones. Now, he searched for the way in.
    Flying lower and lower, he traced the route of a small stream and found its entrance under the walls. The location was unseen from the ground, hidden by an outcropping of rock and trees, but from his place in the sky, it was clear…and undefended. The perfect place to begin the downfall of the castle and its inhabitants.
    “Follow the trail until it turns to the north. Then look to the south for a break in the forest and search for the stream that runs there. It will lead you to the secret entrance. Use it, and you will recover your daughter,” Connor instructed.
    His hand rushed across the slate creating a chalk map of exactly what he saw before him. The trail, the entrance to the forest, the stream were now all marked on the slate for the man to follow. He did not need to say that this man and his warriors would crush his enemies as well, for he knew that once the man was inside the keep, when he saw what had been done to his daughter, death and complete annihilation for those responsible would follow.
    Even now, as he finished describing the vision and released the hand of the man who asked for his help, the scene was fading from his view. Connor handed the slate off to a servant waiting there and laid his hands on the carved arms of the chair. Clutching the strong wood beneath his palms against the pain he knew would come, he realized it was vital not to let anyone know the extent of it. Glancing in that moment around the large chamber, he nodded to his servant Ranald.
    Ranald clapped his hands loudly, drawing the attention of all who observed Connor’s use of the Sight. Ushering them out, Ranald waved off the attempt of the one requesting the vision to gift him with gold. So many tried, but Connor had learned the folly of accepting such payment a long time ago. With a nod of acceptance of the man’s show of gratitude, he turned away.
    He took in a breath and released it as the burning began. The heat filled his eyes like it filled his finger when he held his hand too close to a flame. Now, the blindness robbed his eyes of sight as the pain increased. Like white-hot iron pokers thrust there, the burning grew and grew. Fighting it long enough to allow Ranald to empty his chambers of those who came to witness the power of his gift, usually those whom Diarmid wanted to entice into his circle of allies, he held on to any vestige of control he