Instead of having the effect he’d desired, his words only seemed to make her more miserable. And when, in frustration, he reached to help her undress, she pulled away from him, crossing her arms over her chest as if to ward off a demon straight from the bowels of hell.
“Dinna touch me,” she warned. “I will not stand ungarbed before you again. You can do naught but compare me to the lady Cassandra yet… yet… there can be no comparison. I am not beautiful.”
“Splendor of Christ!” Duncan fair exploded. “Did you not hear me say I care for you? Must I tell you I desire you, too? Is that what you wish to hear?” In one quick motion, he pulled her hard against his chest. “’Tis true, do you hear? I—desire—you!”
“I do not see how you can.”
“Damnation, but you try my patience,” he said, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “Saints alive, lass, think you truly I’ve slept these past nights? What kind of a man do you hold me for that I could lie there, unfeeling, whilst you let your fingers roam all o’er my body?”
Her jaw dropped. “You knew?”
“Aye, I knew,” he breathed, resting his chin atop her head and reveling in the warm, womanly feel of her. He smoothed his hands up and down her back, letting them roam lower each time until he cupped her lower buttocks and molded her so tightly against him she couldn’t deny the evidence of his arousal. “’Tis half-mad you’ve been driving me.”
“And ’tis mad you shall make me, if you dinna release me at once.” Her hands were flattened between them and she pressed hard against his chest. “Have you forgotten your own arrangement? Was it not you who said you did not wish a true consort?”
“’Tis well I remember the words, but I believe I shall exercise my rights as laird and change my mind.” He slipped one hand beneath the damp curtain of her hair and began caressing the nape of her neck.
“Mayhap you can run your hands o’er me now, whilst you ken I’m awake? Then I will not have to hide my arousal from you,” he suggested, the idea borne to him on the pounding waves of intense need surging through his groin. “’Twould be a much more interesting experience if I didn’t have to feign sleep.”
Her eyes widened, either from shock at his suggestion or from the deliberate intimacy of his slow-moving fingers upon the soft skin of her neck. She appeared more perturbed than pleasured, but Duncan couldn’t pull his hand away. The heavy silkiness of her hair flowing so sweetly over his hand made retreat an impossibility.
As did the softness of her belly pressed so temptingly close to his fully charged shaft.
“So what say you, wife?” He let go of her and stepped back, opening his arms wide. “Would you care to explore me now?”
“Oh, nay, I could not,” she breathed, the words scarcely audible over the loud patter of rain against the shutters.
“You can and you shall.” Duncan curved his mouth into the seductive smile he’d used so successfully in the past, but she still gaped at him, clearly alarmed.
“Shall I prove it to you? Perhaps with a kiss?” he persisted, lowering his arms.
Her eyes sparked protest, but when Duncan stepped forward and grasped her shoulders, she merely stiffened but did not seek to jerk away as she had before. Encouraged, Duncan pulled her close and caressed first her shoulders and back, then her hips and sweetly rounded bottom until he felt her resistance lessen.
“Aye, I think I shall kiss you,” he said, as her body reacted to his caresses. She grew soft and warm in his arms, almost seeming to melt into him despite the smoldering embers of anger still visible deep in her eyes. “One kiss, my lady, to prove the power of your passion.”
Lowering his mouth to hers, he settled his lips over hers in a soft and gentle kiss that nearly cost him his last reserves of self-control. With all the restraint he could summon, he let his tongue ease her lips apart, and gradually deepened the kiss until a breathy little sigh escaped her.
Satisfied, Duncan eased the kiss to an end. He framed her face between his hands and rested his forehead lightly against hers. “That wasn’t so painful now, was it?” he asked, still reeling from the sheer sweetness of her lips. “’Tis my desire to kiss you all the night through, sweeting. All of you.”
“Nay… please, sir,” she protested, her breath soft and warm against his skin, the way her body melted into his giving bold lie to her spoken words of denial. “Dinna do this.”
“Do you fear me?” Duncan hated to ask, but he had to know. Fire in his loins or nay, he would leave her be if she feared his touch.
“Nay, sir, I do not,” she said, and the heart Duncan wasn’t supposed to have, soared. “I have told you why I am not desirous of your attentions.” She met his gaze full on, her voice surprisingly firm. “I will not compete in a battle I have no fair chance of winning.”
Duncan bit back the dark invective that rose in his throat. “There never was a battle, lass, and if there had been, you would have won.”
As tenderly as he could, Duncan set her away from him. Her pulse fluttered wildly at the base of her throat, and the sight of it made him vow to take her gently, to use restraint. With an iron will, he pushed aside his own misgivings, his reluctance to breach his self-imposed pledge of monkishness, and concentrated on winning his lady wife’s trust.
That she no longer tried to bolt away from him, emboldened him much, but she’d surely go scrambling for cover if he unleashed the full fury of the passion she stirred in him. Never had he kissed a woman with such tenderness, never had it been more difficult to hold himself back.
But if he meant to thoroughly pleasure her, and he did, he must proceed slowly and make use of every scrap of knowledge he possessed about seduction. Duncan resisted a bitter laugh at the thought. Whatever such skills he’d e’er made use of, was long ago and all but forgotten.
Concentrating, he delved deep into his past, to the distant time before Cassandra. Slowly, bits and pieces came back to him, but they were fleeting and too elusive to grasp, drifting away before he could make any use of the memories he’d deliberately suppressed.
Then he remembered something his king had once shared with him. The Bruce had sworn that speaking of love primes a lass faster than all else. A slow smile curved Duncan’s lips. Aye, he’d follow his liege lord’s advice and woo his lady wife with words.
Feeling more pleased with himself than he had since entering the chamber, nay since years, Duncan took one of his wife’s hands and smoothed it languidly down his chest. Encouraged when she didn’t attempt to withdraw from his grasp, he began to guide her hand in slow circles, letting her feel the texture of his skin, the contours of his muscles.
A sudden, loud crack of thunder shook the window shutters and a burst of lightning lit the chamber, its eerie whitish silver glow lasting just long enough for Duncan to see Linnet had closed her eyes and parted her lips.
As if awaiting, desiring, another kiss.
His loins tightened at her increasing responsiveness. Very gently, lest he break the spell he felt stirring between them, Duncan brought her hand to rest against his pounding heart. “Can you feel how you make my blood race? Do you like the feel of me beneath your hand?” he asked, his voice husky. “Is touching me pleasing to you?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
’Twas not a vigorous nod, but it’d been one just the same.
“Would you like to touch all of me?”
She almost nodded, but stopped mid-nod and turned her face away. Duncan could almost feel the furious heat of her blush.
“You’ve no reason to be shy with me, Linnet,” he said, smoothing the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “I will never ask you to do aught you do not wish to do.” Taking her chin between his fingers, he turned her face back to his. “But you have learned you can enjoy touching me whilst I’m awake, have you not?”
Duncan narrowed his eyes at her, trying to hold her captive with the power of his gaze. “And you are enjoying this, are you not?”
“Aye,” she admitted after another
long moment’s hesitation.
A tremendous feeling of triumph coursed through Duncan. “Would you deny me the same?”
Taking her lower lip between her teeth, she slowly shook her head.
“Good. Then shall we finally have done with your damp garments?”
She still looked uncertain, nay, embarrassed, but she removed her arisaid, then raised her arms to accept his aid with the rest. At her acquiescence, the pull at Duncan’s groin became unbearable. Fighting hard to keep a hold on his mounting passion, he made haste to rid her of her gown.
When at last he’d drawn her thin undertunic from her body, his need raged sharper than ever before. The sight of her, standing naked before him, freed to his gaze, and not attempting to shield herself, nearly undid him. He knew it was hard for her to remain still, arms at her sides, whilst his gaze raked over her.
Yet she did, and her very willingness to comply with his wishes despite her unfounded shame awakened a deep and primitive need he’d thought long dead.
The need to truly please a woman.
And to be as one with her.
Her unassuming manner, so innocent and pure, so very uncontrived, stirred to life something buried deep within him. The devil might take him for being a fool, but he even suspected she desired him.
Truly wanted him.
Something akin to happiness pumped through him at the possibility. An empowering and uplifting sensation that sent a portion of his pain tumbling away, freeing him, and shining a beacon of light into the darkest region of his soul.
A wondrously giddy, pleasure-laden feeling as powerful and deep-reaching in its emotional intensity as the sharp pull at his groin was fiercely carnal.
An unfamiliar emotion he’d not thought to experience, had never hoped to achieve. Not with Linnet, not with any woman. So soundly had his first wife crushed the dreams of his youthful heart.
Never truly enjoying passion, she’d taken her pleasure in the knowledge her beauty and uninhibited sexual appetites was a potent enough mix to make him, or any man who caught her eye, crave her lascivious charms.
Yet just gazing at his new lady, so unaffected and innocent, aroused him more than Cassandra’s practiced wantonness ever had.
His comely Linnet with her rounded curves and fire-bright hair stirred him so, even the thought of her could no longer chase away his desire.
Drinking in his wife’s lush enticements, so different from Cassandra’s sleek form, Duncan swallowed hard, his mouth gone dry with need.
How had he ever thought his first wife’s slender body so desirable? Not once had she enflamed his blood the way Linnet did. Ne’er had he yearned to love Cassandra as sweetly, as thoroughly, as he meant to pleasure Linnet. As if testing the strong attraction he felt for her, Duncan fastened his gaze onto the luxuriant nest of red-gold curls at the juncture of her shapely thighs.
Saints, but he ached to touch her there, to build her passion with his fingers, then feast upon her sweet woman’s flesh with his lips and tongue until she moaned her bliss, fully consumed by the thundering release he meant to give her. Only then would he slake his own lust.
Sharp bolts of white-hot longing shot through him at the mere thought of all the ways he wanted to pleasure her. The urgency of his need gripped him so strongly he felt it clear to the tips of his bare toes. If he didn’t take his ease soon, he would burst asunder.
“Sir,” his lady’s voice cut through the haze of his passion. “Do you still mean to kiss me again?”
His brows rose in surprise, but, truth to tell, her directness pleased him and fired his blood even more. “Aye, I do,” he said, his voice heavy with passion, his shaft so full, so eager, he could scarce speak. “I shall kiss you all the night through, and not just upon your lips.”
She drew a sharp intake of air at his last words, and Duncan caught a fleeting glimpse of her tongue. ’Twas enough. Nay, too much. With a ragged groan, he pulled her into a savage embrace, slanting his mouth over hers in a hard, deep, and possessive kiss.
A kiss meant to hurl away the last vestiges of her doubts and awaken the ardor he suspected would burn as brightly as his own. Reining in his own desire as best he could, Duncan focused only on hers. He meant to assault her senses until she surrendered completely, and began assaulting his in return. He wanted full, total abandonment from her.
Proving the fire she possessed, her mouth suddenly opened wider beneath his and she boldly met the thrustings of his tongue, tangling hers with his in an erotic dance that sent the remaining shards of his restraint spiraling out of control.
Driven by urges more powerful than he’d ever known, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Without breaking their kiss, he used his shoulder to shove aside the bedcurtains and eased her down, careful not to crush her beneath his weight. For a long moment, he remained poised atop her, fair drowning in the honeyed nectar of her mouth, seared by the heat of her body, consumed by his burning need to possess her.
Their kiss became fevered, their very breath mingling as one until it seemed he’d lose his soul in the taste, feel, and scent of her.
And, might the saints help him, he wanted to!
Like a desperate man, too long starved of sustenance, he ravished her lips, slaking his thirst, his hunger, as one possessed.
She cried out in protest when finally he pulled away. “Dinna cease,” she whispered, her soft plea going straight under his skin, gouging another hole in his defenses.
“I shall kiss you many times over this night, lady,” Duncan said, smoothing his hands over and around the well-rounded globes of her breasts, reveling in the glory of them. “But first I shall give you the same pleasure you’ve given me. And this time ’tis my hands that shall do the roaming, I who shall explore. You shall lie back and allow me.”
She seemed to melt, to soften, upon his spoken intent. Staring at him from eyes no longer a dull brown, now a rich, molten amber, she offered herself to him. Her thighs were still tightly pressed together, and she said not a word, but Duncan knew.
He had but to take and she would give.
His arousal at the sight she made, so temptingly displayed beneath him, and her willingness to accept his need, made him forget all else.
He pushed up to sit straddling her thighs, then stared down at her, devouring her with his gaze. Never had a woman been better suited for a man’s ardor.
Never had a woman fired his passion more.
And never had he felt more helpless, more victim to the pulsing heat at his fevered loins.
Half-crazed with wanting her, and the need to go slow, Duncan brought his fingers to his lips and licked the middle finger of each hand, thoroughly wetting the ends of each. As she watched him, her sweet lips parting in growing desire, Duncan touched his moistened fingers to the hardened tips of her breasts.
A sharp cry burst from her lips at the contact. Pleased beyond measure, Duncan used the dampened tips of his middle fingers to lubricate her nipples with slow, little circles. Idly, he toyed with them, plucking gently, or simply grazing the tip of one finger back and forth over each taut peak until his wife’s hips lifted off the bed, her woman’s mound instinctively seeking the same aching pleasure he showered upon her aroused breasts.
Her hips began moving in a gentle rocking motion, and consciously or unconsciously, her thighs parted. When they opened wide enough for him to see all of her, the very last dredges of his ridiculous vows of abstinence flew, scattered to the four winds and swept away as thoroughly as if he’d tossed them into the full force of a raging summer gale. With a deep groan that started in his very bones, Duncan realized he was lost. Naught would keep him from having her.
Not now, not with her sweetness spread open so invitingly beneath him.
She was his wife.
He’d already taken her virginity.
Why should he deny himself pleasure? Or her? Didn’t she seem to crave his attentions? To abstain was nonsense and would serve no one.
The saints knew,
he’d favor her well.
And teach her to favor him.
Theirs would be a lusty and enjoyable union. Mayhap he’d keep her abed for a sennight, pleasure her until she was limp with exhaustion and begged him to cease.
He’d give her his all… all except his love.
That, he could give no one, for he did not believe in such fool emotions. But he would give her pleasure.
Nights and nights of pleasure.
She tensed beneath him then, the rocking motion of her hips slowing, her legs stretched taut. The warm, musky essence of her arousal drifted up from her as she instinctively sought her release, the deep womanly scent nigh driving Duncan wild. Then she moved again and the silken flesh of her thighs brushed against his swollen sex. The contact, fleeting as it’d been, nearly caused him to spill his seed.
“I’m sorry, lass, I canna withhold myself much—” his words broke into a ragged groan as his lady rested two fingers against his lips.
“’Tis as well, sir, for neither can I.”
Locking her gaze with his, she arched upward, boldly rubbing herself against him, her body leaving no doubt of what she, too, needed. She opened her thighs to him, not quite fully, but in an invitation no man could deny.
Still, Duncan paused before he urged them wider. He searched her eyes, looking for fear and found none.
Only desire.
“It may hurt, once is not enough for a maid to accept a man without pain,” he cautioned, his voice deep with raw emotion and desire.
“It does not matter. I will not shatter,” Linnet encouraged, her gaze steady on his. Then she closed her hand around the length of him, guiding him to her sweetness, arching her hips up to welcome him.
Duncan’s control fled in an irretrievable rush at her touch, her show of complete and utter acceptance. Unable to deny himself any longer, he plunged deep inside her. Greedily, he took all she offered… including her virginity.
His heated shout of passion froze on his lips, blending with her sharper cry of pain even as he tore through the barrier he’d thought no longer existed.
Devil in a Kilt Page 19
