Chapter 24 #2
“I almost feel bad for thinking my problems are worse than yours,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself.
He eyed her, an eyebrow rising as if asking her to continue.
“I’m talking about my life in England,” she explained. “I used to hate it there.”
Her words escaped her with a heavy breath, and she realized that was the first time she had ever truly expressed how she had felt all those years.
Whenever her father had asked why she had wanted to stay home rather than attend balls or events, she had always made flimsy excuses, unable to say exactly what she wanted because it wouldn’t have changed anything.
“Why?” Ruaridh asked.
“You know my father now and see how weak he is to confrontation,” she said. “He has been that way all my life, and I learned early not to expect him to protect me.”
“What did they do to ye?” he asked, looking as though he wished to kill someone.
She giggled softly. “Do you worry for me, Ruaridh?”
“Aye,” he answered.
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just smiled.
“I’m sorry I interrupted yer tale,” he sighed.
“I don’t mind,” she assured. “There’s not much left to tell.
The ton, as you know, don’t take very kindly to people they think beneath them, and my father’s rank ensured that I was treated as an outsider.
On good days, it was with cold detachment, but on bad days, I found myself the butt of many unkind jokes.
My father never once stood up to them because he wanted to remain in their good books.
It was a most frustrating way to grow up, but I survived. ”
“Aye, ye did,” he said, shaking his head. “I did find it odd ye didnae fight as hard to return home or to Westall. Now I understand why ye didnae protest much.”
“I would rather have died at the hand of a wild beast than return to him,” she huffed, shivering. “I was actually glad you interrupted my wedding. I did not, however, like how you carried me like a sack of potatoes or how my reputation was tainted as it was.”
“I apologize for doing that,” he offered, looking chagrined.
“It is not as though it could have been helped.” She shrugged. “And you never once asked what I wanted.”
“I assumed me handsome looks would win ye over easily.”
Her eyes widened at the casual words and the humor lacing them, but when she saw the proud look on his face, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Was that supposed to be a joke?” she asked.
“I am only completing the last item on yer list.”
She furrowed her brow, trying to recall which item remained. As far as she was concerned, he had completed it already.
He leaned in then, surprising her.
“Isnae this how English lords flirt?” he asked.
She gasped. Was he trying to… flirt with her?
She laughed again, throwing her head back, unable to help herself, but when he ran a lone finger up her arm, she choked.
“I daenae think gentlemen take kindly to being laughed at when they’re trying to flirt with a beautiful woman,” he cautioned, voice as silky as sin.
Violet swallowed, wondering who this suave man was in front of her. His eyes were alight with mischief, and he had a naughty smile on his lips, which she found even more beautiful than the other looks he gave her.
“Why?” she asked.
His eyes were on her lips when he spoke. “It makes one want to try harder.”
She swallowed, feeling her heart racing in her chest.
There was a tension between them akin to what she had felt that night in her chambers, and instantly her body warmed, remembering how he had touched her.
She had missed him in the days that followed, burning with a need she could now name after every brief touch they had shared and at the sight of his shirtless figure.
She eyed his chest again, now safely covered with a crisp linen shirt. She wanted to see him again, wanted to feel his hands on her body.
“And what if I wanted him to try harder?” she asked boldly.
He reacted as she had hoped, and when his lips met hers, she sighed with relief. It had been too long since he had last kissed her, and she had missed him.
It seemed he felt the same, for he moaned as well, his hands cupping her face almost desperately. She buried her hand in his hair, and he groaned, shuddering.
His reaction to her ministrations emboldened her, and she fisted her hand in his hair once again. This time, his lips left hers and went to her chin, then her neck.
There was a frantic urgency to his movements, as though he couldn’t control his desire for her, and she felt some pride that she could affect a man like him.
She leaned back, and he climbed over her, kissing a trail down her neck to the swell of her breasts.
“There is nay time, or else I’d have undressed ye here so I may feast on ye,” he whispered.
Yet his hands were not deterred, roaming over her body and gripping her in all the places she yearned to feel his hands on.
“Ye’re a bonny lass, Violet,” he rasped against her neck. “Yer scent and taste have haunted me dreams endlessly.”
She bit her lip, not knowing what to say in response.
His eyes were wild with a need she knew would be reflected in hers, and the brashness of his tone showed he was only trying to rein in his self-control.
She kissed him then and felt him stiffen for a moment before his hands roamed lower, hitching up her skirts. The kiss of the cool wind against her thighs had her stiffening, but his touch eased her anxiety.
Seeing his head dip was almost too much, and the graze of his teeth against her inner thigh made her back bow off the ground. He stilled her with a firm hand on her hip, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from writhing when he buried his face in her sex.
She felt her breath hitch, her nails sinking into his scalp as his tongue and lips drove her to near madness with pleasure, and when his fingers slid into her, she gasped.
The pleasure was maddening, but he didn’t relent, not even when she pulled at his hair.
“Please, Ruaridh,” she cried out.
He groaned against her and increased the pace of his tongue and fingers, and soon she couldn’t hold back her moans as white heat began to build in her core.
“Ruaridh!”
She felt the world shatter into nothing as everything in her began to spasm. It was even better than the first time.
She fell back limply onto the ground, unable to do more than look at him, but when she noticed him pulling back, she sat up.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “Is that…” She swallowed. “Is that all?”
His eyes widened, but then he gave a knowing smile, leaning in till her body thrummed in anticipation.
“Daenae worry, lass,” he muttered darkly. “There are only a few days left until our wedding, and I daenae intend to stop meself any longer.”
Her face reddened at his dark promise, but when he kissed her and then turned to pull her against his chest, she found herself smiling softly. She didn’t have anything to fear with this man, who treated her tenderly even when his lust burned as hot as it did.
Her heart was thudding in an unsteady rhythm as she lay against him, but his was even faster, and she smiled, burying her face in his chest. He was so warm and solid that it felt as though she were living in a dream she did not want to wake up from.
“Let us return to the castle before we’re missed,” he said suddenly, rising to his feet and helping her up.
She nodded with a pout and let him lead her by the hand. Her knees still quivered, and her body thrummed with the echoes of his touch. Their proximity did nothing to quell the flames of desire in her belly, and with how gently he guided her, her heart swelled in her chest.
This was what she had been looking for in a match—softness, desire, and… love.
The realization hit her with a force that had her heart racing in her chest. She had fallen in love with this kind man, and for once, she felt no fear of the future.
A disbelieving laugh escaped her, drawing his concerned eyes to her.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing is wrong,” she answered. “Everything is perfect.”