Chapter 19
Elspeth paced the room. Despite her best efforts, her nerves were wound so tight she thought she might fly straight out the window if she got startled now.
She’d brushed and arranged her hair loosely down her back, and she wore the same flimsy fantasy that she’d worn on her first night at Linneliath.
Perhaps this time her husband would actually see it.
As they came up from supper, Struan had said he’d give her a half an hour to prepare for bed, and then he’d knock on the connecting door.
But her preparations took far less time than that, which left Elspeth pacing and fretting.
What if he changed his mind? What if he did come in and then changed his mind?
What if he didn’t change his mind, but she did?
What if she was a horrible disappointment to him and he decided to never come to her again?
Ellie twisted her hands together, mostly to avoid fidgeting with the silk and wrinkling it beyond repair.
She looked around the room. In deference to Struan’s wishes, she had doused every single candle, and the fire grate held only the half-consumed remains of a single log, which occasionally spat forth a yellow flame for half a second before subsiding back into colorless, smoldering heat.
When would he knock?
She got up and walked to the connecting door, as if that would speed his arrival. Then she wheeled around and paced to the far corner, afraid of seeming overeager, a shameless woman desperate for a carnal act that she’d never actually experienced.
Two short, soft raps against the oak door made her start.
“Come in,” she gasped.
Struan opened the door but didn’t step in. His own room was dark as well, so she couldn’t see much of him, other than to notice that he wore a banyan-style robe, belted at the waist.
“Please come in,” she said again, trying for a more welcoming—and less terrified—tone.
He closed the door softly behind him. “You made the room dark.”
“I thought you would prefer that.” She moved toward him, half afraid he’d turn and leave. When she put one hand on his arm, he went still. “Thank you for…listening to me.”
He sighed. “It was a mistake for me to wait this long. I never meant to hurt you by staying away. It’s just that we didn’t know each other at first, and then I wasn’t sure how to proceed.”
Ellie smiled, though he couldn’t see her expression. “What’s done is done. Shall we just pretend that tonight is our wedding night?”
“Aye,” he agreed, his voice warming. “And speaking of that, I’ve brought a gift.”
“You have?”
He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her. Ellie touched a roll of buttery smooth satin, and soon unwound the coil to discover a long sash of black.
“I’ve never received a blindfold before,” she joked, despite the shivers rolling up her body.
“I’ve never given one.” Struan took it back and stepped around behind her. He tied it around her head. “I didn’t catch any hair in the knot, did I?”
She shook her head, and suddenly found herself pulled against his chest as he put his arms around her, his own big limbs covering her shoulders and practically her whole upper torso.
He said, “Ellie, this is daft.”
“Nonsense. I don’t mind.”
“You’re far too trusting.” His tone was filled with amazement more than warning.
She relaxed against him, realizing that all her nervousness had fled. “I think you trustworthy,” she murmured. “Now, tell me what I should do.”
“Nothing,” he said as he shifted to scoop her up in his arms. “You’ve done enough.”
He walked her to the bed and laid her down on it. Thanks to the blindfold, Ellie’s other senses were heightened. She felt the softness of the linen sheets and smelled the smoke of the dying fire, then heard Struan’s breath quickening.
“You’re beautiful, Ellie,” he said. “It’s not right that you’re so beautiful when I’m…”
“Stop that,” she ordered, her lack of sight somehow giving her more latitude to speak her mind. It was easier when she couldn’t see Struan’s often forbidding expression. “I’m glad you think me pretty, because I want to please you. So you don’t find this task difficult.”
That earned her a low laugh, and heat spread though her belly at the sound. “Ellie, the only difficulty I’ll have is delaying the inevitable. Just thinking about you makes me hard. Now, seeing you…”
There was shift in the mattress as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to her. The sensation of his bare leg sliding against hers sent shivers up her body. He’d disrobed while they’d been talking.
“I’m going to touch you now,” he said. “If you don’t like anything I do, you have to say so. Yes?”
“Yes,” she agreed instantly.
“I mean it, Ellie. I don’t know you well enough to guess, and I don’t want you to dislike any part of this. So you’ll speak up?”
“Aye. Yes, Struan. Please go on.” She hadn’t fully accepted how much she’d been aching for this. She was wildly curious about this mysterious act that was so important and yet so secret.
His hands were gentle, moving over her so lightly, as if checking that she was all there, and not a mirage. His fingertips grazed her flushed skin, and she raised her own hands, only to have him capture her wrists and lift her arms up to the pillow.
“Don’t touch me back,” he cautioned, his tone low. “I can’t let you do that. Not yet.”
“When?” she asked, unconsciously straining against him. There was something surprisingly arousing about being held like this.
“When I tell you that you can. Can I trust you to obey me on that, Ellie?”
“Yes,” she said, meaning it. She’d agree to nearly anything when he asked it in that voice.
He slowly released her wrists. “But keep your arms up like that,” he said. “It’s a pretty picture.”
“Is it?”
“Aye. Bare arms against your hair. The blindfold against your face…and what you’re wearing…Christ. What the hell is this?”
“Do you like it?” she asked nervously. “I wore it on our wedding night, but you never got the chance to see it.”
“That was my mistake,” he muttered. He skimmed his hands over her breasts at the same moment, and her nipples hardened instantly at the heat through the silk. She gasped, and he groaned.
Then she gasped again, because his mouth was where his right hand had been, sucking her breast through the silk. Ellie twisted beneath him, heat spreading through her.
“Struan!” she whispered.
“Do you not like it?” he asked, stopping immediately.
“No! I mean I did like it. Keep doing it?”
“I’m going to pleasure you, Ellie,” he said. God, she loved his voice. “It took me far too long to be here, but now that I am, I intend to make it count.”
He’d resumed his suckling and she lost the ability to explain her thoughts, or even have thoughts. Struan’s lips roamed her breasts, creating havoc wherever he went. Ellie arched her back in an attempt to give him more of herself, to bring their bodies closer.
Only when she was whimpering with need and the silk negligee was soaked with moisture did he sit up.
“How does this damnable thing come off?” he asked gruffly.
“There are ties at the back.”
“Turn over,” he ordered.
She flipped onto her belly. He pulled up the fabric around her legs and hooked his thumbs into the ribbons at the shoulders, tugging until the fabric untied. He lifted her enough to slide the negligee over her head, but then kept her in that position, her back pressed to his chest.
“Get your knees under you,” he urged. “Christ, I like you like this.”
In this position, she couldn’t see him even if she weren’t blindfolded. He must feel better that way. She’d have to remember that.
“Keep me like this, then,” she gasped out. “Please, Struan. If you like me like this, I do too.”
“Oh, Ellie.” He held her against him with a strong left arm, while his right moved freely over her breasts, fondling and petting until she didn’t know how to breathe.
Then his hand moved down to her stomach, long smooth strokes that took pleasure in the softness of her bare skin.
She inhaled, smelling salt and sweat and the smoky air, and whatever that smell was that was uniquely Struan.
A male scent that she was fast learning to love.
His hand continued exploring, pausing at the curls between her legs.
“Spread your knees a little more,” he told her, his voice low, commanding.
She did, and then his fingers were there, slipping into the folds of her sex, teasing her with light caresses. He paid special attention to the hardened nub at her center, drawing the moisture from her body to glide his fingertip over it with maddening slowness.
“Struan,” she moaned.
“You like that?”
“Yes, and you must know it, beast, or why do you linger so?”
His chuckle reverberated in his chest and seeped into her own. “Would you have me finish you so soon?”
“Is it soon?” she gasped.
“Too soon, but I’ll do it if you say so.”
“What is…finishing?” she whispered, wishing she could see the man who was doing such wonderful things to her.
“Bringing you to your peak. Or have you never touched yourself like this?”
She shook her head. “Not like this.”
He stilled for a moment. “You’ve not felt an orgasm before?”
“I don’t think so?”
“Christ, what are they teaching women these days? Ellie, you’ll have to trust me.”
He renewed his attentions, slowly at first, and then speeding up to keep pace with her gasps.
Ellie sensed that she was nearing some border, and that crossing it would bring her to a new place.
Struan murmured encouragement, his mouth by her ear, his body searing hot against hers, his arousal hard and insistent, pressing into her bottom in a way that only heightened her desire.
She rocked her hips against his as she chased the finish he hinted at. Lord, his touch was magical, stirring up so much want in her that Ellie had no words for it.
She realized she was gasping out his name with every exhale, and that her voice was so urgent it sounded panicked. “Struan, Struan, please, oh, please, oh, please, oh—”