Chapter 32 #2
“Oh, dear.” She felt her cheeks heat. But delicious little flames of pleasure stabbed her elsewhere. There where she knew he intended to put his mouth. “You are mad.”
“Aye, for you. I’ll no’ deny it.”
She took a backward step. “You cannot do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” Dear gods, she couldn’t think of a reason. Leastways one she was willing to say aloud.
“Sweet Isolde, I promise you this – if you do no’ enjoy it, I will stop at once.”
She considered. “I am not sure.”
“I am.”
“Faith…” Her heart knocked about in her chest, while the pulsing between her legs seemed to rebel, demanding she allow him to do such a wicked thing.
His smile deepened as if he knew. “You were made for this pleasure. Trust me.”
She raised her hands, shook her head. “If you do, should I allow it, well, then…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I should bathe again.”
“Nae, you willnae.” He shook his head, the look in his eyes almost scorching her. “Push down the clothes, lady, or I shall do it for you.”
She curled her fingers into the bunched folds of her garments. But then she remembered Evelina’s emerald bauble.
Oh, no.
She’d forgotten the slim gold chain and large tear-shaped gemstone. A courtesan’s trinket, waiting to be discovered where it rested low on her abdomen.
Her last hope had the MacLean shunned her efforts at seduction. Evelina had sworn, if all else failed, the sight of the bauble so near to her womanhood would be rousing enough to stir any man.
Even a reluctant enemy laird such as the MacLean. She just hadn’t planned on him seducing her.
And now…
She dug her fingers deeper into the fabric still bunched at her hips. “I cannot do this after all,” she declared. “Can we not just kiss?”
“Kissing you is my intent.”
She frowned. “You know what I meant.”
“And you know what I am about to do.” He began lowering her gown, the chemise with it. His fingers brushed against her hips as he worked to release her grip on the bunched cloth. Each touch excited her, made her eager to move on with this. If only she hadn’t worn Evelina’s chain.
He dropped to one knee. “Come, lass, let me give you this pleasure.”
Isolde tightened her grip on the linen and silk. “I do not want to be kissed there.”
How shocking that she did.
Somehow her fingers gave then and her clothes dropped to the floor, pooling in a heap of swirled green and transparent gauze.
She wore nothing beneath.
Only Evelina’s bauble.
“Holy gods!” Donall froze, his gaze on the large emerald that dangled just above her feminine triangle.
His heart slammed against his ribs, his length now hard as iron. He looked up at her as he pressed his lips to the warm, silken skin of her lower belly in a searing, openmouthed kiss.
“By the gods,” he ground out against her soft curls. “What siren’s trick is this?”
He lifted the gemstone, holding back, for he wasn’t yet ready to touch the slick, silken flesh hidden beneath her soft, red-gold curls. For sure, he wasn’t yet going to lick her there – he’d lose himself if he did.
“So you do appreciate jewels?” He rubbed his fingers over the emerald’s smoothness, its satiny warmth. “Will you admit it?”
“I had reason to wear this one.” Isolde said the only thing she could as she looked down at him, saw how his face hovered so close to her femininity. Even the way his fingers moved over the emerald took her breath.
Touch me that way.
The throbbing of her secret place begged the wish and he must have heard for he released the emerald and slipped one finger between her thighs, trailed its tip slowly along her very middle.
“The stone, Isolde?” He glanced up at her. “Why did you wear it? What was your reason?”
She started to explain, but he touched her again, a jolt of sensation that stole the words. He used more fingers this time, gently stroking her most sensitive flesh.
“Tell me, Isolde.”
“It was a friend’s loan.” She leaned back into the bedpost, needing its support. “To push you past your limits should you shun my attempts at seduction.”
“Who could even think you’d need such help?” His hand closed over her, his grip firm. He palmed her, and the pressure increased the exquisite tingling at her center.
“Sweet lass, you fire my lust with just a look, one smile,” he said, dragging his hand from her. “When I kiss you and we share breath, the intimacy scorches me to the bone.”
“I feel the same.”
“So I have hoped.” He caught her up in his arms, and then he eased her onto the bed’s cool linen sheets. “We will seal your pact now,” he said, shoving down his hose so that he stood naked before her.
“You are beautiful,” he said, his hard length riding against his groin. “See what you do to me.”
To my MacLean heart.
He stepped to the edge of the bed and smoothed his hand down her side.
“Is this still your wish, my lady?” His fingers skimmed along her hip. “Speak now if it is not, for I cannot withhold myself much longer.”
She watched him, too awed to speak. She gazed in wonder at the dark masculinity of his male parts, at the length and thickness of his manly flesh. Marveled at how well formed and beautiful that part of him was, how incredibly exciting.
How aroused.
Never would she have guessed a man could grow so large. Her heart leaped, her own passion soaring. Just looking at him sent a thrill through her. His manhood was so long, thick, and visibly throbbing, which she suspected meant he wanted her, and badly.
She wanted him, too.
“Well?” he pressed, his lust winning the battle over his smitten heart.
Treat her gently, laddie, for she loves you.