She nodded, too nervous to reply. They were finally going to be together as man and wife. It was wonderful and terrifying at the same time.
He bent his head so they were eye to eye. “Do you trust me, Ainsley?”
She snorted. “Of course, you booby. More than anyone in the world.”
“Then everything will be just fine.”
His expression was so tender and loving that her fluttering insides began to settle. Of course it would be all right. This was Royal. If she couldn’t open herself to him, then she would remain forever closed off from her emotions, always afraid. She didn’t want to be that woman anymore. She wanted to be free—free to both give and to accept love.
“Yes?” her husband said quietly.
“Yes.” She stretched up to press her lips to his.
He cradled her close as he returned her kiss. The tips of her nipples rubbed against his chest, and heat coursed through her veins. Her stays suddenly felt so tight.
Embarrassed by her body’s reaction, she repressed the shocking urge to wriggle against him.
Royal’s chuckle vibrated against her lips.
Ainsley pulled back. “What’s so funny?”
“You.” His heavy-lidded eyes gleamed with sensual heat. “You’re allowed to move. In fact, I would encourage it.”
She sighed. “I told you I wasn’t very good at this.”
“My darling, you are splendid. Besides, we’re just practicing, remember? We’re finding out what feels good.”
When he gently turned her head and kissed the most sensitive part of her neck, Ainsley shivered.
“And what feels even better,” he whispered, working his way across to her mouth.
Feeling quite a bit better, she shifted closer, almost toppling into his lap.
Royal slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You need to get more comfortable, love.”
Before she could reply, he tipped her back into the cushions piled at the head of the bed, and arranged her snugly against him. Slightly disconcerted by her sudden change in posture, Ainsley blinked up at him.
Royal toyed with the curls falling down around her cheeks. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes?” she whispered.
“I’d like to start by kissing your pretty little feet and then working my way up to the top.”
She gave this intriguing suggestion the attention it deserved. “I think I’d prefer that you start at the top and work your way down,” she said after a moment.
His smile transformed into a grin so boyish and happy it made her want to laugh.
“In fact,” she said, suddenly feeling quite bold, “let me help you get started.”
When she started on the buttons at the top of her bodice, Royal’s gaze narrowed on her hands. “Be my guest.”
Since there were only three buttons, she didn’t do much more than expose the lace and ribbons that trimmed her shift. But from the expression on Royal’s face, it was like she’d stripped off her clothing and was prancing naked about the room.
When he leaned down to kiss her, the hungry swipe of his tongue stole her breath. His mouth was silky and hot, and his kiss so possessive that her body vibrated with an arousal that had her trembling in his arms.
When he eventually pulled back, Ainsley had to struggle to clear her muddled brain.
“For so long, I couldn’t even kiss you.” His brogue was deep and husky. “To have you in my arms and to be able to touch you is heaven. Right now, I don’t need anything else.”
For a long moment, emotion threatened to overwhelm her. “Really? Because I want a great deal more out of you,” she finally replied in a wobbly voice. “I didn’t just marry you for your sterling intellect.”
“Such a shocking confession, my lady.”
He leaned down to flick a tongue between her lips, and before she could kiss him back, his mouth drifted down to her neck. He kissed his way lower, leisurely building her arousal. Ainsley closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations sparking to life in her body. A spike of heat flared in her belly, and a delicious ache began to gather between her thighs.
She knew her body, and she knew what it was capable of—had once been capable of. To know she could still respond to a man’s touch—her husband’s touch—flooded her with unspoken gratitude.
Royal’s hand moved to her bodice. “These fripperies are almost too pretty to take off. So much ribbon and lace.”
His hand traced along the top of her stays, his calloused fingertips making her shiver. When one finger dipped down to touch her nipple, she bit her lip to hold back a groan.
He glanced up. “Do you like that?”
She nodded, too breathless and shy to reply.
“Splendid. You are, however, rather laced up.”
She grimaced. “Drat. They’re back-lacing stays. Silly of me to forget that.”
As wonderful as his attentions were, and as much as she wanted them, Ainsley wasn’t sure she was ready to strip off her gown and allow Royal to unlace her stays. But considering how far she’d gone, it seemed silly to develop such qualms now.
She tried to struggle up into a sitting position. “Here, let me—”
Royal gently pushed her back down. “No need. Just relax.”
“I’m trussed up like a Christmas goose. It won’t be easy to get to the good bits.”
“Never fear, I’ll get to all of them in good time. There’s no need to rush into anything.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re practicing, remember?”
As usual, he knew what she was feeling without her having to say a word. “And what are you practicing at the moment?”
“How to undress my wife without embarrassing her.”
“I suppose it’s silly of me to be so shy about it.”
He kissed her eyebrow, then wandered down over her cheek, slowly making his way to her mouth. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, exerting a gentle, provocative pressure. Ainsley clung to him. Within moments, she was once more trembling in his arms.
“Still feeling shy?” he asked.
“Me, shy?” She sounded breathless. “You must be joking.”
“Good. Then let’s practice some more.”
He hooked two fingers into the top of her stays. They were laced quite snuggly, but with several firm tugs on the quilted fabric and some wriggling on her part, Royal was able to slip a hand inside her shift and ease her breasts up over the top of her undergarments. It took some doing, since her curves were generous, but her husband didn’t seem to mind.
Neither did she. His warm, caressing hands felt utterly delightful.
“There you are, my beauties,” he murmured when her breasts finally eased free. “You were certainly worth the wait.”
Ainsley couldn’t help but giggle.
He gave her a lazy smile. “Do I amuse you, Mrs. Kendrick?”
“You’re talking to my bosom, Mr. Kendrick.”
“I told you once that I wanted to build a monument to your breasts. Now that I’ve actually seen them, I’m going to begin construction immediately.”
“Perhaps not quite immediately.”
“Perhaps not,” he said with a deep chuckle.
He curled a hand around her breast, cupping it. “You’re so damn pretty, Ainsley. I can hardly believe I’m finally touching you.”
“I love you touching me,” she whispered.
When he scraped a gentle thumb across her nipple, Ainsley caught her breath. As he played with the rigid tip, gently flicking it, she couldn’t hold back a whimper. Pleasure arced from that tight point to the gathering arousal in her sex.
“Och, that’s lovely,” Royal growled.
He slid his palm back and forth over the tip. Ainsley arched her back, pushing her body into his hand, silently begging for more.
With a husky laugh that sounded close to a groan, he complied. For deliciously agonizing minutes, he played with her breasts, sending her into a daze of sensual pleasure. When he wrapped his fingertips around her n
ipple and gently twisted, Ainsley all but levitated.
“Royal,” she gasped, “you’re driving me insane.”
“But you want more, don’t you?”
“Yes, you booby. Do something!” She froze, mortified. “Oh, God, I sound like an idiot.”
His only reply was a knowing smile before his head came down to her breast.
Ainsley gasped when he took her nipple into his mouth. It was a thrilling sensation, and she’d never felt anything like it. For long, luxurious minutes, he went from one breast to the other, nipping, tasting—and slowly driving her into sensual frenzy. Her breasts felt heavy and full, and her nipples ached, deliciously tormented by his hungry mouth.
She curled her fingers into his thick, silky hair, holding him close. She squirmed beneath him, still wanting, still needing more.
He finally drew back with a gentle, lingering pull. His gaze glittered with passion, making her lightheaded. It was almost terrifying to feel so much and know that she’d also roused him to such heady desire.
Despite his devouring gaze, his mouth lifted in one of his lovely, tender smiles. “I’ll give you whatever you need, sweetheart. Just tell me if it’s all right to touch you.”
“You’ve been touching me quite a lot, in case you’ve failed to notice,” she hoarsely replied.
His hand drifted down to rest low on her belly. “Down there, I mean.”
Ainsley sucked in a breath. Her breasts, still damp from his attentions, quivered. He’d worked her into such a state that she barely knew what to do with herself.
Actually, she did. “If you don’t touch me, I’ll be forced to do the job myself.”
Then she clapped a hand over her mouth. What an appalling thing to say to one’s husband, especially during their first time together.
Royal choked out a startled laugh.
“What is so blasted funny?” she asked.
“You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?”
She sighed. “May I remind you yet again that I’m not very good at this sort of thing?”
“Nonsense. You’re splendid at this sort of thing, though I must admit that I would quite enjoy watching you pleasure yourself.”
“Royal Kendrick!”
“Another time, perhaps?”
She grabbed the collar of his nightshirt. “If you don’t get on with it, I can safely promise that there won’t be another time.”
When he laughed again, Ainsley contemplated boxing his ears. Fortunately, he pressed a firm hand between her thighs, right on the perfect spot. Even through the bunched fabric of her garments, it felt wonderful. When his fingers shifted, gently rubbing her, she didn’t even try to hold back a moan.
“My beauty,” he murmured. “Does that feel nice?”
She curled a hand around his neck and drew his face down to hers. “Very nice.”
Then she took his mouth, pouring all her pent-up emotions into the kiss.
Royal quickly took control, feeding her desire with kisses that robbed her of all coherent thought. He seduced her with deep glides of his tongue, tasting her with urgent passion. All the while, his hand stroked her through the fine linen of her shift. As the fabric grew damp, tiny contractions began in her womb, building toward her climax.
Ainsley arched her hips, pushing into his hand, seeking the burst of heat and light that would bring her relief. She hovered close to the brink, but then Royal gentled his movements, stoking her frustration as well as her desire.
Feeling more than a bit desperate now, she wrapped both hands around his neck and thrust her tongue deep into his mouth. With a frantic whimper, she pressed close, seeking both shelter and pleasure within his strong embrace.
“That’s my beautiful girl.” His mouth devoured her with a hunger that made her shiver.
Seeking release, Ainsley rubbed her breasts against his brawny chest and felt his erection jerk in response. She squeezed her thighs together, trapping his hand. For a wild moment, she wished his hard length was parting her damp folds and filling her up until she came apart in his arms.
When Royal finally released her from the soul-stealing kiss, he loomed over her, his eyes glittering like the green lights that lit up the northern night sky. His whisky-scented breath washed over her in hot, short bursts, and his features were tight with masculine need.
“God, lass, you’re so bloody gorgeous. And your body . . .”
He cupped her breast, feeling the voluptuous weight before rubbing his palm over her aching, stiff nipple. Ainsley cried out as her climax danced just out of reach.
“Please, Royal,” she gasped. “Please don’t stop. I need you to touch me everywhere.”
“I need that too, more than I need to breathe.”
Then, finally , he slipped his hand under her skirts. His blunt fingertips gently parted her, finding the tight bud slick with her arousal. When he flicked it, a bolt of fire shot through her, and she couldn’t hold back a strangled cry of need.
“Let yourself go, my love,” he crooned. “I promise to keep you safe.”
Held securely in his firm embrace, Ainsley did just that. When he spread her legs, exposing her fully to his touch, she shut her eyes and let sensation—and Royal—rule her body. His fingers danced over her sex and teased the sensitive opening of her body, building pleasure in a relentless wave. Her mind turned soft and dark, as if wrapped in plush velvet.
Clumsily, Ainsley reached for him, vaguely needing to pleasure him, too.
Royal pressed her back into the mattress. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered.
She didn’t have the strength or the will to resist.
His heat surrounded her, his body brawny and hard. Everywhere he touched, fire raced through her veins to burn deep in her core. All the while, he poured out his love for her in tender, arousing words, telling her how beautiful she was, how strong she was, and how he adored her.
Finally, it was all too much. Her body, heart, and soul needed release.
She dragged open her eyelids and met his searing gaze.
“Look at yourself, Ainsley,” he rasped. “Look at how magnificent you are.”
She glanced down at her body, disheveled and half-naked, her clothes twisted around her. Her breasts were full and pink from his attentions, and her legs had fallen open, pliant and weak from his touch. But it was the sight of his hand on her sex that truly gave her a jolt. He cupped her gently but possessively, claiming her in a way that was shocking yet utterly erotic.
He smiled down at her. “My brave lass, I am the luckiest bastard on the planet to hold such beauty and heart in my arms.”
For a moment, she blinked back tears. Then he did something with his fingers that drew a cry from her lips. His hands slicked over her tight bud, circling and teasing, quickly driving her into a sensual frenzy.
“Royal,” she gasped.
“Yes, now. Let go, my love.”
One final stroke from him and she tumbled. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the joy explode throughout her body. For once, she didn’t hold back. For once, she let herself feel everything , knowing she was safe and secure in his arms.
Eventually, her shudders subsided. Royal kissed her damp forehead and smoothed back her hair with such tenderness that she had to stifle a sniffle or two. Ainsley settled into his arms, trying to catch her breath and find herself after the release that had swept through her like a summer storm.
Yes, she’d felt desire before, but nothing like this. Her husband’s touch had sparked a fire that had all but consumed her.
It was earth-shattering—and thoroughly disconcerting.
She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Royal tucked her close, cradling her with the protectiveness that was second nature to him. There was nowhere safer than in her husband’s arms, despite what her old, damaged self was trying to tell her.
Even so, she couldn’t hold back a few sniffles. Gratitude, vulnerability, and love were all mixed in one confusing, glorious mess, and she’d need more t
han a few minutes to sort it out. She’d probably need a lifetime—a lifetime with Royal, she hoped.
He caressed her shoulders, his touch warm and gentle. She felt him shift a bit, and his mouth brushed the top of her ear.
“All right, love?” he murmured.
She rubbed her face against the soft linen of his nightshirt, drying her tears and feeling more than slightly embarrassed by her overwrought reaction. The last thing her poor husband needed was a hysterical wife who came apart at the seams whenever he touched her.
“I’m very well, thank you,” she said, mustering a smile. “Although I’m acting rather like a foolish chit, aren’t I? I suspect I’ve ruined your shirt.”
His malachite gaze glittered with banked passion, but his smile was tender and so loving that it threatened to bring more tears to her eyes.
Stop being a watering pot.
“You can ruin all my shirts, especially if it gets you into my bed.” He passed a thumb over her cheek, catching a stray tear. “But you’re sure I didn’t hurt you or upset you in any way?”
“You mean you couldn’t tell? I would think it quite obvious what just happened to me.”
He flashed a rather smug grin. “Yes, I was aware of that part of the business, but I’m not used to you crying. You hardly ever cry. Twice in one night is disconcerting, to say the least.”
Ainsley patted his chest. “Just like a man. Runs at the first sight of tears.”
He pulled her closer. “Do I look like I’m running?”
The evidence of his arousal was still apparent. “Thankfully, no,” she said with a choked laugh.
“Good.” His smile faded as he tipped up her chin. “But tell me why you’re crying.”
“It’s nothing to worry about, dearest. I was simply a little overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment. You have to admit it’s something of a milestone—for both of us.”
He tenderly cupped her cheek. “One I am most happy to have achieved with you, my dearest heart.”
She couldn’t resist wriggling against him and had to suppress a smile of glee when he sucked in a breath.
“It’s only a partial milestone,” she said, “given the state you’re in.”
The Highlander Who Protected Me (Clan Kendrick #1) Page 30
