Chapter 35 #2
“Of course I did,” he muttered, his words quiet and almost awkward.
He was building up to telling her the last pieces of his seeming indecisiveness.
“Ye are me wife, and ye were the most bonnie lass in the entire Hall. Only a fool would have left ye to stand along the wall the whole night. One of me regrets is that I dinnae come to dance with ye sooner.”
“One of them?” she whispered, glancing up at him through her eyelashes.
Her curiosity was clear, but it was tempered by something else.
There was a sort of trepidation there. She understood there were memories in his past he had not yet shared, but she was ready to listen to them all.
Margo was not afraid of him. It seemed that she welcomed the dark parts of him, that she wanted to shine a light on the bits that lived in the shadows.
“I have never feared me desire for ye,” he said, starting with the easiest truth.
He cleared his throat, his hands tightening into fists on his thighs as he forced himself to hold her gaze.
“I think that somewhere deep inside, I kent that wantin’ ye made me stronger.
What frightened me was becomin’ the kind of man that would hurt the woman I loved.
I saw me father drive women to the end of their lives.
I vowed to meself I wouldnae turn out like him. ”
His hand found Margo’s, threading their fingers together over her knee. It felt as though their bodies were made for one another. She leaned in closer, their sides flushing against each other.
“Me desire for ye is so… vast that I felt meself tryin’ to control ye to keep ye safe,” he admitted.
Each syllable took a considerable amount of strength to deliver, coming out strained and stilted.
Still, the way her entire body seemed to glow with the spark of his truth made him continue.
“So, I stayed away and tried to admire ye from afar. But it seems I just cannae stay away from ye.”
She hummed, the sound accepting, contemplative. As he began rubbing the length of her thumb with his own, she said, “I think that you have failed to see that you are unlike any other man alive. Or, at least, you are unlike any other that I have met.”
A fond scoff left his lips before he could stop it. It did not seem to disturb Margo, though. She tilted her head just so, unabashedly studying him.
“Under your brutishness and your cold armor, you are the most caring man I have ever met,” she said, barreling right through the image of himself that he had always seen in his mind. “Your touch is the most gentle and kind that I have ever felt.”
The picture of him that she painted was so vivid that Cameron felt he did not have a choice but to believe it.
For the first time since his mother’s death and his sister’s tragedy, he felt he did not have to restrain himself.
He could have Margo, all of her, and she would not break.
In fact, she thought she was better because of his affections, not worse.
She seemed to draw him in again, her body inviting him closer without words. Unbidden, his eyes dropped down to her lips for a fraction of a second. Meeting her eyes again, he saw nothing but fondness and amusement and, now that he knew what he was looking for, love.
“Me touch is only gentle and kind because it is ye that I am touchin’,” he said, his voice low and raspy, weaving through the creak of the carriage as it ambled steadily down the rocky path. He swayed closer to her, their lips brushing together for the briefest of moments.
The negligent space between them seemed to disappear. Cameron was not sure if it was he or Margo who had leaned in and closed the gap. It may have been both of them, but he did not care about anything other than how soft and pliant her mouth was against his.
With a growl, he deepened the kiss, one hand coming up to anchor itself in her hair. The touch was undemanding, acting like a tether rather than a request for more. His other hand found the curve of her waist, his grip firm and possessive, leaving no question as to whom she belonged to.
She tilted her head to the side, a silent invitation to take everything that he wanted. The gesture bordered on a challenge, and he answered with a light nip of his teeth to her bottom lip. A whimper floated between them. It seemed to linger there, going straight to his head and between his legs.
“I want all of ye,” he said against her mouth, every word punctuated by another kiss.
Putting both hands beneath her rump, he moved her onto his lap, careful to keep from jostling her or the carriage too much.
He just needed her closer. The solidity of her weight on top of him, her warmth that penetrated the layers of fabric separating them, they were just a taste, and that was all it took.
Once her knees had settled on either side of his hips, the intensity of the kiss became greater. Using one strong palm to keep her body upright and steady, his right hand trailed down to her ankle. Slowly, he dragged his fingertip up her leg, taking her gown along with it.
A shuddering sigh left her lips, and it felt like pure relief. This moment was a culmination of every bottled feeling he’d had since he’d met her. His cock pressed against her inner thigh, his desire an insistent thing that refused to be ignored any longer.
“This wasnae how I imagined takin’ ye apart the first time,” he groaned as he felt the soft skin of her inner thighs for the second time. “But I cannae wait long enough to get ye to a bed.”
“I cannot either,” she said, panting against his mouth.