Chapter Twenty-Three #2
The thoughts crowded his mind, his heart, and his body joined in, hope turning to excitement and desire.
Soon he could bear it no longer. Holding the candle, he reached the landing by her bedchamber and stopped, waiting as she glided down to the step just above where he stood.
Taller, he faced her directly. Setting the candle in a niche provided for such, he reached for her.
Pulling her close, he kissed her, hard, swift, catching her close to him, the Druid prince finding his princess.
He kissed her breathless, kissed her until he felt the tension drain from her, until she sagged her weight against his chest in surrender.
Soon she danced her tongue over his, lifted her hands to frame his face.
He partook, as she did, of feelings swirling warm honey and whisky. He did not want to let go.
But the candle sputtered and he was reminded where they stood, and he drew back at last. He rested his brow against hers, his heart hammering, hers beating quickly against his chest.
I love you. He ached to say it, but silence and touch were intoxicating and truthful. He took up the candle again and took her hand to lead her down to the stone landing at his door, where she had fallen one night, and where his heart had fallen like fruit from a tree.
Opening the door, he stepped back, waiting, blood and heart pounding. She crossed the threshold and he followed. The room was shadowy and warm with a crackling fire, ready for the laird. Closing the door, he set down the candle dish and turned toward her.
She whirled with a cry and flowed into his arms. Wild with need and a joy that rushed in with it, he kissed her with the deepest hunger he had ever felt. She bent like a willow, graceful and supple, and he felt her give in to the need, as he did.
He had desired other women, had made love to them when circumstances allowed; years ago, he had lost his young heart to Dora’s pretty cousin Elspeth.
They had tumbled together in heather and hay whenever chance allowed.
Later, when she was gone, he had formed the emotional veneer that kept him safe from love and the vulnerability that went with it.
But he had never felt like this, never, filled with a pure, bright, burning need to lose himself in her, to merge and meld into a different, a better man, a better being.
Once he had believed he must never fall victim to this feeling.
Now he knew love could happen in an instant, like the sudden dazzle of a sunbeam, and yet stay and illuminate all.
He had dreamed of her years ago, when she was but a likeness in a painting.
That picture overlooked them now, lush and provocative.
But she was real and warm in his arms, under his lips, and a thousand times more seductive.
His body grew hot and firm at the sight and feel of her.
He touched the glint of fire in her hair, traced his fingers over her creamy throat.
She tilted her head, hair rippling, and he kissed her lips, her throat, and lower, then felt her kiss and her soft breath at his ear, plunging through him.
Questioning yet silent, he pulled away to look at her, and she gave her answer, nodding, leaning toward his kiss.
Then he knew she wanted this as much as he did.
He took her plaid, let it fall to the floor, then removed her little spectacles carefully.
He kissed her eyelids, one and the other.
She looked up at him with honesty, gentleness, waiting.
And he fell in love with her all over again.
The painting on the wall was but a dim shadow of the woman he held.
His mouth moved over hers, succored, withdrew, discovered again.
She seemed to melt in his arms. Deftly he untied silk and the cotton and lace beneath.
They floated to the floor. She stood unashamed before him, her body marvelous in the golden light, satiny and perfect.
His own body, hard and full, ached for her softness.
When she reached for him and tugged at his tunic, he removed it quickly, let it drop away.
He slid his palms along her waist, following the curves to span her hips, then upward around her ribs, his hands gliding over her breasts.
He felt her falter, heard her soft, breathy gasp as she surged toward him, pressing her body to his, seeking his mouth with her own.
Lowering her to the floor, he lay with her on a pool of discarded silk and wool. Tracing his lips over hers again, he slipped his mouth downward, kissing, nibbling along her throat to her breasts. He sensed her heartbeat quickening like his own.
Loving her was not wrong or shameful. Loving her, he felt clarified and whole.
This was no risk, he told himself—this was salvation in itself; it was bliss and forgiveness and nurturing.
He could not stop himself, for an inexorable current pulled him onward.
He thought it drew her, too, in its swift path.
Lying with her on the pool of fabrics, sensing the warmth of the fire on his back, he lifted slightly and traced his lips over her shoulders, over the living silk of her breasts, the nipples pearling for him, one, the other. She arched, her arms encircling him.
Her breasts filled his hands and he tasted her, tracing his mouth lower over her taut abdomen, slipping his hand downward, finding her heated, honey slick.
He touched, caressed until she shivered, moved, sighed, as her hands smoothed up over his back, around, along his abdomen, until he felt the hot leap of desire as she sheathed him with warm, firm fingers, measuring, teasing until he burned for more, until he pulled her to him and took her mouth, tasting her, all the while aching for release.
Rolling her gently to her back, she curved toward him and he surged into her, into her sumptuous heat. She moved with him, gently then more. He felt as if her secrets were his now, and his were hers. The feeling shook his soul, unstoppable, ecstatic.
I love you, he wanted to say. I love you fiercely. Silence and touch said it better, hands and lips and body said it. He felt love flowing, resonating, and he flowed with it, felt her quicken with it too, breaths in deep cadence.
Gathering her close, curled with her in his bed near the crackling fire that warmed the room with its light, he drew the plaid over them and kept silent.
Later for talk—now was the time to let the bond between them settle and complete.
As she drifted to sleep in his arms, he watched her, kissed her brow, and resolved to stay with her always, if she wanted that too. He might have found the way.