Chapter 23
His kiss enveloped her whole, and she moved her body to press closer to him. She hadn't lied to him. She had been cold; not her skin, but her insides. Ice had settled in her bones, and no amount of heat from the fire seemed to be able to put it out.
The cold was gone and replaced by an ache she'd only ever felt with Liam. She needed him in the most intimate ways. So when he broke the kiss, she growled at him.
“Lass,” he sighed softly. “I want everything ye are offering, but ye are feeling vulnerable.”
“That does not mean that I dinnae know what I am asking for.
That first night, on the way to the river, I wanted ye.
I realized that ye feared everyone saw me as a woman because ye saw me as a woman.
When ye kissed me, I wanted ye. I hoped ye would pull me into the darkness of the woods and take away the strange ache.
If ye had pressed at any other time, I would have been yers.
Now, I need ye. I need the feeling I get when ye touch me.
Kiss me. I need to feel what ‘tis like to be with ye.”
Liam’s eyes darkened with lust, and then he pulled her leg over his lap so she straddled him. She instinctively moved her hips against his hard ridge, and he groaned.
“I cannae take ye before yer wedding night, Jean. I willnae, but I can still give ye what ye want. It will change things between us. Ye understand that?”
Hands trembling, she reached out and touched his lips. “Will it change anything? Or have we always been making our way here? I have always been yers.”
“Mine,” he growled in agreement and moved his hands down to her bottom. She gasped, and he pulled her hard against him. “The dreams I’ve been having about ye, Jean, are positively wicked.”
“Tell me,” she demanded. His lips skimmed the side of her neck, and her toes curled.
“Spread out on my bed, gloriously naked. Nothing to keep me from touching these lovely breasts ye try to hide away.” He undid the buttons of her shirt and spread the fabric.
Jean held her breath as he traced the fabric tightly binding her breasts.
“So this is how ye have been doing it. It doesnae seem comfortable.”
“It isnae,” she whispered as she straightened. “I think I shall sleep better if ye undo it.”
His body tensed beneath her thighs when she undid the button she'd sewn onto the fabric to hold it together. When her breasts fell, she sighed in relief. “Are they as ye imagined?”
“Better.”
“And in this wicked dream ye had of me, what did ye do with them?”
“I touched them in various ways to see how ye might like it.” His voice was hoarse as he held the weight of them in his hands. She grew even more embarrassingly wet as the anticipation built. Then he stroked his thumbs over her nipples, and pleasure shot through her.
“That does seem wicked.”
With a husky chuckle, he brushed his knuckles over her and watched her tremble. “Wait until I use my mouth.”
When he leaned forward and took a nipple in his mouth, Jean lost the ability to breathe. Then his tongue slid across her, and she yelped.
“Liam!”
“Do ye like that? Or should I stop?”
“I….” Her mind was so scrambled, she couldn't think straight. “I liked it, but I need something, I just dinnae know what!”
In one fluid motion, his hands gripped her waist, and he pushed her off his lap. One hand cradled her head while he laid her back, and he settled over her. Gently, he kissed her. “Dinnae fret, my love. I know what ye need.”
Her heart hammered against her chest as he slid his fingers under the waist band of her breeches and slid them over her thighs. “There are perks to wearing a dress,” he said under his breath. “Efficiency comes to mind.”
“Not if ye wear all the things that ye are supposed to under it,” she reminded him. Heat tinged her cheeks. It was the first time anyone had seen her naked. In her head, she could hear the clan elder screeching at her to cover up whenever she showed too much ankle frolicking about.
Now she was showing far more than ankle and doing something far more wicked than practicing running through the grass with a sword in hand.
“Ye are so beautiful,” he whispered and gazed at her with his dark eyes. The feverish look in them should have scared her, but Liam would never hurt her. She knew that with a certainty.
And she knew that her own gaze no doubt looked just as urgent.
“Please,” she whispered. “I want to see ye as well.”
“Alas, my clothes are staying on tonight. Safer that way, my love.”
Annoyed, she narrowed her eyes and pushed herself up on her elbows. “What?”
“Easy there, lass. I will give ye exactly what ye want, but as I said, I willnae take ye tonight.”
“What are ye planning —” her words were cut short when his finger slid along her sex, and suddenly, there was no more breath in her lungs. Every nerve in her body awakened, and she gasped at the pleasure that coursed through her. “Liam!”
“Oh, aye. Dinnae worry, Jean. We are still going to enjoy ourselves.” He slid his finger up her, hitting a spot that had her body bowing with pleasure and her voice ringing out with need. “I have thought of all the ways I might bring ye pleasure. Tonight will just be a taste.”
He stroked her softly, occasionally slipping his finger inside her, but every time she thought she would break, he stopped with a knowing smile and would kill her gently only to start the torture back all over again.
When she thought she might tear out her hair, he chuckled.
“Speaking of tastes, I have wondered how ye would taste.”
What could he possibly mean by that?
Her skin warmed when he moved over her and then slid down her body and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Liam, please,” she keened. “I dinnae think I can take much more of this!”
He pressed his lips to her most intimate part, and she could not form a single thought.
As his skillful tongue darted out, she thrashed and cried out, succumbing to the pleasure, certain that she would lose her mind if he stopped.
But he did not, and when everything in her shattered, she screamed his name, and it echoed up into the night sky.
They arrived exhausted at the Armstrong Keep by mid-morning, but Jean’s busy mind had kept her up for the remainder of the night.
Liam seemed to never fall asleep either, instead holding her gently after he’d helped her dress.
They hadn’t said a word about what had happened between them, but she knew everything had changed.
He didn’t hide his gaze from her or shy away from touching her. It was nice.
Someone had alerted Laird Armstrong and her parents because they were all waiting for her. Her father walked up to her horse and helped her dismount. With a hand under her chin, he tilted her face up and studied her. “There is blood on ye, daughter, and bruises on yer face.”
“Aye. We were attacked. Alistair is looking for the perpetrators.”
Her mother gasped, but Connor looked at Liam. “Are ye unhurt, lad?”
“Nothing a bath willnae fix, sir.”
“Ye have my thanks for delivering my daughter safely to me. Yer father will want an update, but then come find me.’
“Aye, sir.”
Before her father could whisk her away again, she reached out and took Liam’s hand. “Thank ye,” she whispered. “For letting me help and for keeping me safe.”
“I will always do whatever it takes to keep ye safe, Lady Jean, just as I will always trust yer intuition.”
“Laird Armstrong, I apologize for any strife I have caused yer keep in my absence. I am often accused of acting without thinking of others, but I hope ye understand that I was thinking of others this time.”
Creighton looked at her thoughtfully and nodded. “I understand, lass. There is a bath waiting for ye. Let yer mother tend to ye. She has fretted.”
With a small smile, she allowed her father to lead her up the steps and to the keep. “I wish for a full report, but first a bath and a nap. Ye look as though ye might fall over on yer own feet, lass.”
“I killed someone, Faither.” It wasn’t the first thing she had planned to tell them, and at her mother’s horrified gasp, she thought perhaps she’d made a mistake, but she needed to tell them.
She needed someone else to know. “I could have left him to suffer for what he did to me and what he wanted to do to me, but I could not. I felt ill afterwards and thought maybe ye were right all along. I was not meant to be a warrior.”
“Jean, how many times have I told ye that ‘tis not just the fight in someone that makes them a warrior? It is what is in their heart. Wash. Rest. Let yer mother hold ye, and then we will talk.” They stopped at her bed chamber, and he kissed the top of her head.
When her mother walked with her inside and the door closed behind her, her mother burst into tears.
She allowed her mother to embrace her and hold her, something she had not done in a long time. Afterwards, her mother helped her undress and bathe, and they curled up on the bed together and drifted into sleep.