Chapter 29 #2
“I suspect you must look some more.” He lifted her hands and kissed all ten fingertips. “You still appear unnerved.”
“I have seen enough.”
“Nae, you haven’t.” Releasing her hands, he spread his arms and turned in a slow circle. “You’ve no properly admired my knightly form,” he said, his tone teasing. “Remember, knights admire wenches with steel in their blood.”
He leaned toward her. “Cheeky wenches.”
“Is that so?”
“Perhaps you should find out,” he suggested, his eyes crinkling.
“I do not believe I have a choice.”
“To be sure, you do.” He straightened. “Think well.”
She pretended to consider. But her wild heart took over as everything Evelina taught her landed in a rush by the tops of her thighs - the female place where a hot-tingling ache threatened to madden her.
“Well?” He stepped closer, sure of himself, and so attractive. “Have you decided?”
She shook her head. “It is hard.”
His smile flashed. “So it is, aye.”
“You, sir, are beyond redemption.”
“So some say, but ne’er you worry.” He sounded proud. “That is your purpose, is it not? To rouse me?”
“It was,” she owned, wanting to sink into the floor rushes.
He arched a brow. “It is no longer?”
“Nothing has changed.”
“Then all is well for I am mightily stirred.” He leaned toward her again. “Are you?”
“You are bold, indeed.”
“Aye, well.” He seemed amused. “We are no’ here to discuss the weather, are we?”
“Nae, but…”
“Your plan will no’ work otherwise, sweet.”
“I know.” She didn’t want to appear timid, so she glanced at his manhood. His knightly hose hid nothing. He looked large and hard, so daunting.
He followed her gaze. “You will soon be as eager. I will touch you to help you along.”
Lifting a hand, he smoothed his fingers down her cheek. She leaned into his touch, silently urging him not to take away his hand. Not to withdraw its magic.
“Will you do something for me?” He slipped his hand around her neck, let his fingers caress her nape. “Will you do two things for me?”
“If you wish,” she agreed, her belly fluttering.
He looked sharply at her. “Have you been taking more of that potion?”
She started to shake her head, but before she could, he seized her shoulders and lowered his mouth to hers. But rather than the deep, open-mouthed kiss she’d hoped for, he merely flicked the tip of his tongue over her lips.
A soft, gentle lick, a taste to see if he could detect a trace of the anti-attraction potion.
Not caring, Isolde slid her arms around his shoulders and thrust her fingers into his hair. She pressed herself into him, needing the long, deep kisses as he’d given her before.
“So eager, my love.” He set her from him, the endearment melting her heart as surely as his touch quickened her desire.
He rested his forehead on hers, his breath soft and warm on her skin. “Nae worries,” he said, lowering his head to nip the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “You shall have all the kisses you want.”
He straightened to look at her. “Before I give them to you, you must fulfill your two promises.”
“What do you wish?” She held his gaze, knowing she’d do whatever he asked of her.
He lifted one of her braids then, rubbed his thumb over the thickly woven strands. “You are no’ blessed with much restraint, are you?”
She shook her head, beyond speaking, so fiercely did she crave his touch.
He let the braid fall. “There is much I would have us enjoy,” he said, his voice low and deep. “But first I want you to undo your hair.”
“That is all?”
“That is the beginning.” His eyes smoldered. “I want to see your loosened hair, feel the strands slide over my palms, through my fingers.”
“Oh…” The tingling in her woman’s parts increased, and with a greater urgency than before. Faith, but he could work a fine wizardry with his words.
“What is your other wish?”
The slow burn in his eyes flared hotly. “I want to see your breasts.”
Shivers raced over her skin, prickling every inch of her. She’d fretted all evening about this moment, worrying she’d not have the nerve after losing Evelina’s special rouge. Now, his wish unleashed a thrilling awareness in her breasts, the intensity much like the fluttery sensation in her belly.
She swallowed, hoped her voice wouldn’t hitch. “You want to look at my breasts?”
“I want to do more than look.” He smoothed the backs of his fingers lightly along the outer swells of her still-covered breasts.
“I will touch and kiss you everywhere, and in many ways.” He let his gaze roam over her, then slid his fingers down, around, and under her breasts, moving in light circles that sent more shivers rippling through her.
“And when I am done, I will begin again, pleasing you until you are so sated and limp you beg me to stop.”
“Oh, my. I can see why women love you,” she said, stunned by the admission.
But not caring either. She needed this to be pleasurable.
She did not mind if her child came into this world a bastard.
He would bear her name, which was a good one.
He would also have her love, always. Lastly, she would do him the honor of having him sired in passion – by a man she desired.
She also wanted the memories. And she would not be damned for that weakness.
Once the MacLean left Dunmuir…
She would relive these hours of longing and arousal all the rest of her days.
Was it bad to enjoy such deeply satisfying abandon? She didn’t think it was wrong at all. So she lifted her chin and met his gaze, letting her wildness run free.
“Please keep touching me.” She felt herself melting, surrendered to her need. “I will not deny myself this pleasure.”
“You shouldn’t,” he agreed, and his eyes darkened, turning almost as black as peat. “I shall make this as enjoyable for you as I can.” He rubbed and palmed her breasts, looking deep into her eyes as he did so. “When I ready you for our joining-”
“I am ready.” She surely was, for that part of her ached for him. “Nor am I afraid.”
“You needn’t be,” he said, now brushing his thumbs back and forth over her nipples. “But I will ready you all the same.”
She curled her fingers into her skirts, finding the tingly warmth between her legs almost too pleasurable already. “You mean to do more?”
“Indeed,” he promised, the heat in his voice making her tremble. “I will please you with my lips and my tongue. I shall kiss, savor, and-” He broke off, hopping on one bare foot.
“What the…” He reached down to retrieve something from the thick layer of floor rushes. He examined whatever it was, then held out his hand, a little earthen pot resting on his palm.
Isolde’s eyes rounded. Heat seared her cheeks.
It was the blush of rose.
“Is this yours, my lady?” He snatched his hand back when she reached for it. “I see it is by your flush.”
He opened the jar and peered inside. A look of astonishment, then recognition flashed over his face.
He knew what it was.
He looked up at her, amusement in his eyes. “This is vermilion,” he said, staring at her. “Whore’s paint.”
“Some say courtesan’s rouge,” Isolde amended.
The MacLean glanced again at the little jar. “You meant to use this to seduce me.”
“I did, aye.” She wouldn’t lie. “But I lost the jar.”
His dark eyes twinkled. “And here it is again.”
“So?” Her heart began to pound.
He smiled. “So, indeed.”
Mercy, he wanted her to use the cream.
“I want you to put this on.” His words confirmed what she knew.
“If it will please you.” She accepted the little pot when he handed it to her. She wasn’t a coward. But she did feel somewhat disappointed. The surprise effect she’d hoped to achieve with the cream had been lost.
He frowned. “The use of such a cream should please you as well, my lady. I will no’ see you distressed.”
“I am not.”
“What then?”
She took a breath. “It won’t be the same if you know it’s there.”
He shook his head. “Sweeting, surprising me is no longer the paint’s purpose.”
“It’s not?”
“Nae.” He set his hands on her shoulders. “How bold can you be, lass?”
“As bold as your pleasure.”
He smiled. “Then let me watch you apply the paint.”
Isolde gasped, the idea first embarrassing her, then arousing her.
“I would like that very much,” she agreed, aware of the heat blooming on her cheeks – and elsewhere – as she curled her fingers around the earthen jar.
Blush of rose.
An apt name. And she could hardly wait to sample its power.