The Draig's Woman

by Wadler, Lisa Dawn

  With the pitcher and cup on the table, she stared at the back of Ian’s head and waited for him to acknowledge her presence. Ian’s voice was gruff with a quick dismissal to whomever had brought the drink. When Claire noticed the chess piece in his hands, she asked, “Would you like to finish the game?”

  After a ragged breath was released, Ian finally turned to see her. Claire could see the exhaustion in his eyes. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t slept last night. Not sure how to even begin a conversation about what was left unsaid between them, she sat in her customary seat. “I believe it’s your move.”

  With a sad smile, Ian moved his chess piece. His mind was not on the game, but on all the day had brought and what was not to be. Ian was not even sure if he valued Claire’s companionship this night or if it brought only more torment. Pouring a cup, he offered her the first drink.

  For the first time, Ian noted strain in their conversation. Claire spoke of the simple things she did each night: Cerwyn, the household, what happened with the clan, and the gossip of the women. These were all of the matters his wife should speak of to her husband and laird. Not for the first time, Ian wondered if Claire knew how she behaved. Normally, Ian would have asked more of these small events, and their conversation would fill the hours of the evening. This night it all reminded him of how his life would have little meaning.

  Finally unable to bear the talk that filled the silence, Ian gruffly said, “Forgive me, Claire. I am poor company this night. Mayhap the game can wait a bit longer.” He forced his gaze to the fire and fought not to look at her. She had become a temptation he could no longer bear. His lips wanted to cry out his rage at her refusal. Ian stayed silent rather than succumb to the alternative, which was to beg Claire to stay by his side.

  “I came here to check on you to see if you wanted to talk about what happened today,” Claire said quietly.

  Ian wondered if it pained her to ask as much as it pained him to hear the words. It was a while before he answered.

  “Mayhap another night we will speak.” He cocked his head to the side. “Will you sit with me some nights, Claire? Will you still spend your evenings with me?”

  “Of course I will.” Claire offered a smile, but Ian turned back to the fire, the pain too much to bear. “Ian, I wanted to talk to you . . .”

  “Tis late, lass, you should seek your rest,” Ian’s words were harshly spoken while he stared at the fire. He didn’t know what she wished to say, but he knew that he needed her gone. Her company had become more than he could politely bear this night. Silently, he cursed his harsh tone when a quick glance revealed a look of hurt on her sweet face. There was little he could say to erase the sting as Claire rose and walked to the door.

  She was leaving. Ian made his voice was firm. “There is one thing I would ask of you this night, lock your door. There are too many here I dinna trust.” He waited to hear the cold sound of the chamber door closing behind her, the sound that would leave him utterly alone. Instead, he heard a noise that he would never have dreamed possible.

  In a heartbeat, Ian realized what she had done and what made that blessed sound. He was on his feet with no delay, turning to see Claire facing the door, her wee hand still on the bolt that locked the chamber. For a single heartbeat, he thought he should send her away, certain what he asked of her was wrong. He knew she deserved more; she deserved all a man could give. He knew this was what she meant last night. She deserved everything. He banished the idea; he would never send her away. His need for her was too great.

  Ian stepped behind her and wrapped one arm around her waist while his hand gently pulled her fingers from the bolt. He inhaled her sweet fragrance as she leaned back against him.

  “I tried, but I can’t stay away. I don’t want to be without you,” Claire said quietly.

  “‘Tis nay just a night in your arms I seek.” Ian whispered, his mouth just above her ear. “We can build a life together, sweet Claire, with you and me as one. We will spend our days and nights with one another. My home and hearth are yours to keep as your own. This is nay what you should be offered or what I would pledge to you. In my heart, I wish to give you all. Everything I can give you except my name and title. Can this be enough for you?” He paused, afraid of her response. “I heard your words last eve and felt their meaning. For my life, I would never see you hurt. I need to ken that this is enough for you.”

  Claire turned within his arms, and her hands reached to hold his face. “It will have to be enough.” She pulled his head down and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. “I just need to be with you. Together we will find our way.”

  Joy burst through his heart. “Aye, Claire. Together is all that matters.” Without further delay, his lips touched hers with a kiss, gentle and sweet. Their lips moved as their arms bound them together, and this tender moment was even sweeter for the promise it brought to his heart.

  Ian spoke against her lips. “This will be our beginning. This night we will start our lives together.” He bent to scoop her into his arms and carried her to the bed. After placing her gently in the center, his body quickly covered hers. He braced himself on his elbows to see her how he had pictured her so many nights with her hair spread on his furs. “Once again, sweet Claire, you have saved my life. You have saved me from an empty future and given me hope. Together we will find joy in this life, I swear this to you.” He lowered his mouth to find hers and kissed her with all the passion in his heart. One taste of the wine in her mouth, and he was lost. He thought of every night she had sipped his wine and how she would have tasted. His hands could not touch her enough and moved from her hair to her sides and back again.

  The plaid was pushed from his shoulder as Claire’s hands explored. Her delicate hands lifted his shirt and forced it over his head. As the kiss reconnected, Ian relished the soft sighs she made as her hands roamed his back, sides, and the planes of his chest. The feel of her soft skin on his threatened to rush the moment, the fire from the previous night too quickly rekindled.

  Ian shifted his weight to grant better access to the laces of her gown. He forced his movements to slow and broke their kiss to explore the skin of her neck. He tasted the soft flesh at the top of the bodice. The feel of her leg as it wrapped around his caused him to grin. “You still wear your boots, sweeting.”

  Her foot touched the top of his boot. “So do you.”

  To erase the smirk on her mouth, he planted one more kiss hard upon her lips. “I will see to the boots,” Ian growled as Claire shifted to sit. “Dinna move, sweeting. I have waited far too long to see your hair spread on my furs.” He kissed down her clothed body, and her body moved into his hands and mouth. Ian stopped his pursuits and rose to his knees to push the gown to her thighs. His fingers made quick work to untie the first boot and throw it to the floor. Unable to resist the temptation, Ian kissed a path from her ankle to her bare knee. The gasp of breath at this small touch made him vow to find every spot on her body that caused the same reaction. He moved to the next boot. With the boot cast aside, his mouth once again tasted the delicate flesh of her bent leg. Her shudder was his reward, as he tasted her skin. When he lifted his head to gaze upon her, her eyes locked on his, and his body tensed with need.

  Ian’s first boot hit the floor without delay. The curse reached his lips before it could be stopped. Immediately, Claire sat on her knees in front of him with the passion in her eyes replaced by uncertainty. Ian reached for her and pulled her into him as he kissed her with all the fire within him. “There is a knot in my laces.” Her soft laughter against his mouth brought forth his own. With a soft kiss for her cheek, he sat on the edge of the bed to free himself from his boot.

  Her continued soft laughter teased his inability to remove the boot. “‘Tis not that amusing.”

  Claire leaned forward, and her soft fingers skimmed his back. She untied his hair and spread it across
his shoulders. Ian forced air into his lungs as her fingers moved again over his skin. The task was forgotten while gentle lips danced over his shoulder. His movement ceased as her mouth traveled to graze the back of his ear, and his breath came out in a whoosh as her hands wrapped about his chest.

  Claire whispered, “You are still wearing your boot, Ian.”

  “You are distracting me from my task.” Her laughter was a soft caress on his neck. As she continued her exploration, his head fell to the side. The moment her tongue touched his skin, he could handle no more. Ian grabbed the dagger from the table next to the bed and cut the rawhide string on his boots. Throwing the boot aside as he replaced the knife, Ian turned quickly to face her laughter.

  Looking at the boot on the floor and then to him, she asked, “Did you really need to do that?”

  Without an answer, Ian brought her face to his and nearly crushed her mouth. The kiss demanded acceptance, and he groaned as she gave it. Any dominance was replaced by his desire being met.

  One hand held her head and buried in her hair as the other finished untying her gown. With the laces loosened, he abruptly broke the kiss and pushed back to stare at her.

  A gasp broke from Claire as she saw his look. The weight of his stare brought a tremor that Ian did not fail to notice. He bent slightly to pull up the material gathered around her knees, and in one fluid motion, her dress and shift were gone.

  With a silent prayer of thanks for the light of the candles within the chamber, Ian took a moment to enjoy what was exposed. He saw her blush as her gown left for the floor. Ian stroked her shoulders and moved his fingers down her arms and back up again. Her skin was soft as he touched his way down her chest, his fingers barely making contact with her breasts and then moved down to her small waist. She still wore it, that little scrap of fabric he saw that night at the inn. His fingers traced the line of skin above the fabric. “I have often wondered if this covered you beneath your gowns.”

  Claire again found the humor in the moment. “I need to wear something under that gown.”

  Ian offered no laughter in return. “In this you are wrong, sweeting. I would ken there is nothing beneath.” The slight shock on her sweet face was enough to satisfy him. He pulled her roughly to him, and their bare skin touched, and his need exploded. Her hands caressed him everywhere their skin did not touch.

  Claire’s gentle touches were excruciating. With hands that shook far more than he cared to note, he removed the belt and undid the knots that held his plaid in place. As her gaze explored him, her hands followed. He watched her face as she gazed upon him when the plaid hit the floor. Claire’s soft touches continued down his stomach to lightly skim the length of him.

  Ian sucked in a ragged breath through clenched teeth as the torment continued. Her hand had barely closed around him before it slid up and down his length. Ian gasped for breath as Claire stroked him gently. He forced his body to still as she closed the last distance between them.

  Ian was ready for gentle lips but was ill prepared for what was given. Her lips met his with a force beyond imagination, while her tongue took full advantage as his ragged breathing and invaded his mouth. Within four heartbeats, his control shattered. With one motion he removed her hands and threw her back onto the bed. Launching from the floor to brace his body over her, he held back and would not let any part of them touch. He waited for her soft brown eyes to meet his gaze.

  “This is how I want you, Claire, breathless and reaching for me with your hair strewn over my furs. This is how I have seen you in my mind every night. Every night when you left my chambers, this is what I wanted. You are what I have wanted.” Not waiting any longer, he lowered his body on top of hers, and they gasped at the contact. Ian’s mouth seized hers in a frenzied kiss, and any thought of slow passion was gone from his mind.

  He left her soft mouth to taste her jaw, her neck, and shoulders, and inched slowly down her body to feast on her supple skin. Claire clung to his scalp as his mouth latched onto her breast. Her back arched off the bed to bring him closer. Switching to the other breast, his hands and mouth feasted while her soft cries and moans urged him on.

  As Claire’s leg reached to cover him, the intent to join their bodies was abundantly clear. She whimpered as his mouth left her body, and his gaze locked on her as he shifted lower on her body. He whispered while he tasted the skin of her stomach, “Dinna think to rush this night. We have only begun.” He tasted the skin on her hip and then enjoyed the skin of her long thighs.

  Never in his life had Ian moved with such deliberate thought. Every kiss, each touch was intended to give her pleasure and to create a burning need though this punished him with the same want and desire. He slid the last barrier off her hips and threw the tormenting scrap of fabric to the floor. This night would bind Claire to him. He would use every tool and trick possible to make her crave him tonight and all nights.

  Claire had thought she understood desire and that their one night together had given her a true taste of what desire meant. As Ian’s mouth moved up her thigh to the delicate skin on the inside of her leg, she knew that had only been a glimmer of what want truly was. Her hips shifted to accommodate his shoulders as Ian moved between her legs and the first touch of his tongue sent her neck arching to the heavens. Her breathing became labored as he continued his skillful assault. There was no concern that her hips moved against him, while her body craved the pleasure offered. Her fingers gripped the furs beneath her as Ian held her hips tightly. He offered no break from the onslaught of sensation. She felt the pleasure build, the demand for release, and the need for this to continue. There was only the certainty that she needed him. A strangled cry escaped her mouth as his fingers entered her body. Their mimicry, the gentle thrust mixed with his tongue, made it all too much to bear. This time she knew she begged him not to stop and gasped for air as her orgasm hit, the wave of pleasure consumed every part of her being.

  Her body was still quaking, and yet she needed more. Claire was grateful to feel Ian’s warmth once again as it covered her. She pulled him in as her legs wrapped around his thighs. Her hips shifted to answer his body’s request as his hard length pressed barely into her. A moan of frustration escaped her as Ian stopped and rested his forehead against her.

  “I need more than just a bedding, Claire. Give me all that I have dreamt of, promise it all to me.” He shuddered with desire and want, but Ian demanded, “Give me the words.”

  She knew what he asked for, and her hands moved to hold his face away from hers so she could see his expression. “I am yours, Ian. I have always been yours.” She saw his grin, and then her eyes closed as his body answered for him and he thrust hard into her. There was shock at the intrusion, yet the feel of him buried so deep inside her awed her. His length filled her. He pulled almost completely out only to claim her again. As she arched to meet him, there was no control, only the fire burning between them.

  Ian’s kiss claimed her mouth. His tongue thrust against hers as his body did the same. She tried to hold on and to keep her body wrapped around his. The sensation of his soft chest hairs against her, the muscled legs within hers combined with his scent stole all thought. When his hand on her hip moved to her backside, the change was immediate. His hips ground against hers and reached a place inside that she had no idea ever existed. The kiss broke as her body arched off the bed. The ecstasy of her climax was prolonged by his hard thrusts. A second wave crashed over her as Ian cried out, “Claire!” as his release hit.

  The only sound in the chamber was of their labored breathing. His lips were soft against her neck as she slowly caressed his sculpted back. She touched her lips to his, and both of them sighed into the softness of the moment. Gently, he eased their bodies apart and rolled to his side. She willing followed and rested against his chest.

  Ian slowly brushed her hair from her cheek as she nestled against him, noses touchi
ng. He whispered words filled with regret. “I fear I lost control. Did I hurt you, sweeting?”

  “No,” Claire answered with soft laughter.

  His kiss contained a smile. “Sweet laughter mixed with such passion, ‘tis a fine thing.” Their lips touched as their passions cooled and soft kisses completed the moment.

  Even now, she couldn’t get enough wrapped in his embrace, warm and tingly down to her toes. When Ian shifted away from her reach she was not sure what to do next.

  As if reading the question in her mind, Ian said, “Dinna move, sweeting.” Ian rose from the bed.

  He gracefully moved to the washbasin. Claire heard water being poured and couldn’t help but admire the view of his strong back. His eyes were soft and warm as he came back to the bed with a cloth in his hands. When Ian moved the cloth between her legs, all she could choke out was, “I can do that.”

  Ian leaned down to speak against her lips. “Allow me this. Let me care for you.” Gentle hands washed away the evidence of their loving. “I should have done this for you last time but was unable.” When he finished cleaning them both, he once again left her side to replace the cloth and pour wine into a cup. As was his way, he offered her the first sip.

  Sliding down the layered covers on the bed, Ian urged, “Under the covers before you catch a chill, sweeting.” Once again his hands traced her features as she lay with him. “I dinna have the words to tell how happy I am that you are here with me. We will build a fine life together, I swear this to you.”

  His oath pulled her out of the sleepy contentment of his touch. “I believe you, Ian.” Claire hesitantly asked, “Maybe I should head back to my chamber?”