Chapter 6 #3
Before Cairren could respond, he eased her around and cupped her jaw, bringing his mouth within a hair's breadth of hers. When she didn’t pull away, his lips brushed hers before pressing more firmly.
His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips twice, but she did little more than part them, making Padraig realize Cairren was more innocent than he realized and didn’t understand what he wanted.
He used his thumbs to press down on her jaw, coaxing her to open for him.
When his tongue swept across the satiny depths, Cairren stilled.
She didn’t pull away, but Padraig suspected she didn’t know what to do.
Possessiveness unlike anything he had experienced before swept over him as he realized that no man before him had enjoyed the drugging effects of Cairren’s kisses.
She tentatively twirled her tongue with his, a gasp of surprise confirming Padraig’s suspicions.
He could recall every moment of his first kiss with Myrna as though he were sharing it with her again rather than kissing Cairren.
He never recalled Myrna being as hesitant.
He’d assumed her eagerness came from curiosity and long-restrained want, but as he thought about it, Myrna seemed to have known exactly what to do, her mouth open and ready to receive his tongue even before the kiss began.
His hands were almost wider than Cairren’s narrow frame, and he feared for a moment that she wouldn’t be able to manage coupling with him, let alone bear children.
But he groaned as his hand cupped her backside while the other slid along her ribs until it captured the swell of her breast. He marveled at how such a slender woman had such lush curves hidden beneath her gown.
He noticed how easy it was to hold her against him even when he had to stoop to reach her.
Cairren came to the middle of his chest, and as he held her, he had a surging sense of protectiveness blended with desire that surpassed any he’d felt with other women.
He’d been attracted to the women he’d been with between the sheets, against walls, even in haystacks, but the need to bury himself within a woman had never consumed him as it did now.
His aching cock throbbed behind his sporran.
It tempted him to push the pouch out of the way and let his sword press against her sheath.
He’d long believed that he would never desire a woman more than Myrna, but he found his body ached for Cairren with an insistence he doubted he could ever satiate.
Footsteps behind him in the bailey brought Padraig back to reality, and as he looked around, he realized the torches blazing near the doors would have illuminated everything he did to the men on the battlements.
His broad shoulders might have hidden Cairren, but they didn’t hide his obvious movements as his hands explored her body.
Shame washed over him, knowing the men would believe his actions represented his view of Cairren: she was little more than the whore the men in the Great Hall had called her if the laird’s son pawed at her in plain sight.
As he watched Cairren bring her fingers to her lips, as though still shocked by the kiss they shared, he recalled once again that Myrna had never seemed so innocent and transfixed by any of their early kisses, and he had a moment of niggling doubt that Myrna had more experience than he’d believed.
When Cairren gasped again, it wasn’t the breathy sound of surprise.
It was disgust. She covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head.
Cairren felt lightheaded and drugged as the world fell away around them while she shared her first kiss. Her head seemed to float above her body, all of her senses but touch dulled. But when she pulled away and noticed Padraig’s distant stare, her world crashed to smithereens around her.
“Even now you’re thinking of her. Picturing being with her rather than stuck here with me.” Cairren’s expression was so filled with loathing that Padraig wanted to turn away rather than accept the shame that flooded him. “Consummate this marriage, then leave me the hell alone.”
When Cairren dashed inside, Padraig remained outside.
He’d ruined Cairren’s first kiss and what was undoubtedly the most earth-shattering one he’d ever shared.
His rod throbbed with unspent need, so he opted for a dip in the loch rather than return to the Great Hall.
He stood in the same spot he had countless times before, prepared to conjure an image of Myrna as he took himself in hand, but only Cairren materialized in his imagination.
Remembering her swollen lips and glazed eyes as he pulled away from their kiss made his cock pulse and leak.
He continued to work his length as he recalled how she’d felt in his hands, and it was her name on his lips when jets of seed sprayed into the water.
He longed for the feel of her in his arms once again as the euphoria waned.
He was certain taking himself in hand while thinking of Myrna was never as satisfying as picturing Cairren.
As he trudged back to the keep, he’d never been more miserable in his life.