Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Marian pulled back suddenly, nearly stumbling as she tore her lips from his.
Her chest heaved as Lachlan watched her, his eyes darkening as they burned a fiery trail down her body.
She bit her lip and stepped closer again, as though an invisible string drew her to him.
Somewhere between their ravenous kisses, she must have pulled open the front of his tunic. Her eyes fell to his chest, and she swallowed, her fingers aching to draw a line down the middle until she reached his—
Goodness, Marian.
She looked away quickly, her cheeks flushing at the impropriety of her thoughts.
Lachlan breathed heavily, his eyes flashing as he walked toward her. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and something about the quiet intensity of the moment loosened the armor she had worn her entire life.
Perhaps…
Marian threw her head back, exposing her neck to his lips as he kissed his way down the sides, stopping at her clavicle.
“Marian,” he groaned against her skin, the sound reverberating through her, and she swallowed. “I would love to show ye somethin’.”
Marian swallowed and nodded before she could give it any further thought, her lower lip catching between her teeth.
Lachlan released her hands, and they instantly went around his neck, anchoring her to him as he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her back against the wall, burying his head into the crook of her neck.
“Lachlan…” His name escaped her lips, and she wasn’t sure if it was a protest or a moan.
He hummed against her. Then he looked up, his dark eyes piercing into hers, and she knew instantly that she could trust him.
She raked her fingers through his long brown hair, pulling on it as he trailed kisses down her clavicle. Her dress slipped off her shoulders, and she felt his muscles flex at the sight, a low groan escaping him.
Lachlan took her lips again. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, deeper this time, clawing at his back.
He allowed her to tear his tunic off.
Her fingers moved tentatively, trailing slowly from his hairy chest to the hard, ripped muscles that lined his abdomen.
Marian felt wetness pooling between her legs. Her whole body tingled with a sensation she’d never felt before.
Eventually, Lachlan set her down. Her feet wobbled for a moment as they touched the floor, but she quickly steadied herself against the wall.
He stepped back, allowing her eyes to feast on every inch of his upper body.
Marian’s gaze traveled from his neck to the taut muscles of his abdomen, then down the V that disappeared beneath his kilt. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her eyes widening as she took in the sight before her.
She had seen nude sculptures of the male body before in England, but none of them had ever possessed the sort of protrusion that seemed to tent Lachlan’s kilt beneath his belt. Her breath caught in her throat.
She did not expect what he did next.
Lachlan kneeled in front of her, pulling up her dress ever so slightly until her legs were exposed. He held her skirts in one hand and reached up with the other to push her undergarments aside.
She gasped as she felt his lips press against her sex, pleasure shooting through her at once. Her hips bucked, and her hands stiffened by her sides. She bit down on her lip to suppress the moans that threatened to escape her.
Marian had never felt anything quite like it before.
Her body stiffened as his tongue parted her nether lips, and suddenly, a bolt of electricity shot through her. She nearly screamed. Her fingers tugged at his hair, pressing him against her harder until his tongue slid deeper inside her, and her entire body convulsed.
She let out a sound, primal and almost like a sob, as her thighs shook around his head.
Lachlan reached up, his strong, muscular arms holding her hips in place. He continued to kiss her, not stopping until the pleasure had ebbed.
Her body quivered as he stood up, and he held her tightly, kissing her again so that she could taste herself on his lips.
They paused for breath, and her head came to rest against his chest. She could feel his hard member poking her belly.
It was all so overwhelming, far more than propriety would ever allow.
Marian’s eyes remained closed in disbelief for a second longer before she opened them, realizing with quiet astonishment that something inside her had awakened for the very first time.
Good heavens.
Lachlan stepped back a fraction, his expression tight with restraint, as if the control he had fought to maintain was hanging by the thinnest thread.
“Are ye still leavin’?” he whispered, his lips curling into a wicked smirk.
Marian’s lips parted. She wanted to say something, but her cheeks flushed deeper. She looked away, unable to hold his gaze after the moment they’d just shared.
Lachlan’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing across her flushed cheek. “Mairi,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him, still breathless. Her lips trembled slightly. “I…”
She did not know what to say.
“I was wrong,” he said, his voice low and rough. “What I said in the hall. About ye nae belongin’ here.”
Marian’s throat tightened. “Lachlan—”
“I was wrong,” he repeated firmly. “And I was a fool.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “It is the truth. I never should have said those words to ye.”
Marian’s eyes stung with a feeling far more pleasant than what she had just experienced. She forced back a smile as she looked at him, her chest tight with something she didn’t dare name.
“Lachlan, I—”
The words caught in her throat. What could she say? That she’d fallen in love with a man who’d spent weeks trying to drive her away? That standing here with him felt more like home than London ever had? That she didn’t want to leave, not now, not ever?
Her lips parted again.
Just then, a sudden shout rose from the courtyard.
Marian started, and Lachlan stepped back, his face hardening as he listened again for the sound.
“That’s nae normal,” he said, picking up his tunic from where she had dropped it on the floor.
He hurriedly put it back on as Marian fixed her hair, her cheeks flushing harder at the awkwardness of the situation.
He rushed toward the door, and she tensed.
“Wait!” Her voice rose slightly in panic. “Where are you going?”
She bit her lip at the obvious question, but he answered anyway.
“To check what has happened.”
Marian swallowed.
If these are invaders…
Her heart thumped as she watched him, realizing that she would not be able to bear it if he got hurt.
“Then I am coming with you,” she declared, following him into the corridor.
Lachlan did not argue. He led her quickly down the corridors in the other wing, where she’d never been before.
They stopped outside a door.
“Where—”
“Me chamber,” he said, pushing it open.
Marian’s breath caught.
His chamber.
She’d never been in a man’s private rooms before, and despite what they had just shared, she still felt hesitant to enter. But Lachlan was already crossing to the window, and curiosity pulled her forward.
“It has the best view of the courtyard,” he said.
Marian stepped up to him, close enough that their arms brushed. Her body tingled slightly at the brief contact as she looked out the window. But then, she saw who stood below.
Her eyes widened, and she let out a gasp. Her knees trembled slightly, and Lachlan immediately took her arm to steady her. He looked down at her, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Do ye ken who that is?” he asked, pointing at the impeccably dressed man who was speaking to Finn at the gate.
Marian nodded, swallowing. “Yes,” she said, her voice tight. “He is my uncle.”