Devil in a Kilt (27 page)

"‘Tis
well I remember the words, but I believe I shall exercise my rights as laird
and change my mind." He slipped one hand beneath the damp curtain of her
hair and began caressing the nape of her neck.

"Mayhap
you can run your hands o'er me now, whilst you ken I'm awake? Then I will not
have to hide my arousal from you," he suggested, the idea borne to him on
the pounding waves of intense need surging through his groin. "‘Twould be
a much more interesting experience if I didn't have to feign sleep."

Her
eyes widened, either from shock at his suggestion or from the deliberate
intimacy of his slow-moving fingers upon the soft skin of her neck. She
appeared more perturbed than pleasured, but Duncan couldn't pull his hand away.
The heavy silkiness of her hair flowing so sweetly over his hand made retreat
an impossibility.

As
did the softness of her belly pressed so temptingly close to his fully charged
shaft.

"So
what say you, wife?" He let go of her and stepped back, opening his arms
wide. "Would you care to explore me now?"

"Oh,
nay, I could not," she breathed, the words scarcely audible over the loud
patter of rain against the shutters.

"You
can and you shall." Duncan curved his mouth into the seductive smile he'd
used so successfully in the past, but she still gaped at him, clearly alarmed.

"Shall
I prove it to you? Perhaps with a kiss?" he persisted, lowering his arms.

Her
eyes sparked protest, but when Duncan stepped forward and grasped her
shoulders, she merely stiffened but did not seek to jerk away as she had
before. Encouraged, Duncan pulled her close and caressed first her shoulders
and back, then her hips and sweetly rounded bottom until he felt her resistance
lessen.

"Aye,
I think I shall kiss you," he said, as her body reacted to his caresses.
She grew soft and warm in his arms, almost seeming to melt into him despite the
smoldering embers of anger still visible deep in her eyes. "One kiss, my
lady, to prove the power of your passion."

Lowering
his mouth to hers, he settled his lips over hers in a soft and gentle kiss that
nearly cost him his last reserves of self-control. With all the restraint he
could summon, he let his tongue ease her lips apart, and gradually deepened
the kiss until a breathy little sigh escaped her.

Satisfied,
Duncan eased the kiss to an end. He framed her face between his hands and
rested his forehead lightly against hers. "That wasn't so painful now,
was it?" he asked, still reeling from the sheer sweetness of her lips.
"‘Tis my desire to kiss you all the night through, sweeting.
All of
you."

"Nay
... please, sir," she protested, her breath soft and warm against his
skin, the way her body melted into his giving bold lie to her spoken words of
denial. "Dinna do this."

"Do
you fear me?" Duncan hated to ask, but he had to know. Fire in his loins
or nay, he would leave her be if she feared his touch.

"Nay,
sir, I do not," she said, and the heart Duncan wasn't supposed to have,
soared. "I have told you why I am not desirous of your attentions."
She met his gaze full on, her voice surprisingly firm. "I will not compete
in a battle I have no fair chance of winning."

Duncan
bit back the dark invective that rose in his throat. "There never was a
battle, lass, and if there had been, you would have won."

As
tenderly as he could, Duncan set her away from him. Her pulse fluttered wildly
at the base of her throat, and the sight of it made him vow to take her gently,
to use restraint. With an iron will, he pushed aside his own misgivings, his
reluctance to breach his self-imposed pledge of monkishness, and concentrated
on winning his lady wife's trust.

That
she no longer tried to bolt away from him, emboldened him much, but she'd
surely go scrambling for cover if he unleashed the full fury of the passion she
stirred in him. Never had he kissed a woman with such tenderness, never had it
been more difficult to hold himself back.

But
if he meant to thoroughly pleasure her, and he did, he must proceed slowly and
make use of every scrap of knowledge he possessed about seduction. Duncan
resisted a bitter laugh at the thought. Whatever such skills he'd e'er made use
of, was long ago and all but forgotten.

Concentrating,
he delved deep into his past, to the distant time before Cassandra. Slowly,
bits and pieces came back to him, but they were fleeting and too elusive to
grasp, drifting away before he could make any use of the memories he'd
deliberately suppressed.

Then
he remembered something his king had once shared with him. The Bruce had sworn
that
speaking of love
primes a lass faster than all else. A slow smile
curved Duncan's lips. Aye, he'd follow his liege lord's advice and woo his lady
wife with words.

Feeling
more pleased with himself than he had since entering the chamber, nay since
years,
Duncan took one of his wife's hands and smoothed it languidly down his
chest. Encouraged when she didn't attempt to withdraw from his grasp, he began
to guide her hand in slow circles, letting her feel the texture of his skin,
the contours of his muscles.

A
sudden, loud crack of thunder shook the window shutters and a burst of
lightning lit the chamber, its eerie whitish silver glow lasting just long
enough for Duncan to see Linnet had closed her eyes and parted her lips.

As
if awaiting,
desiring,
another kiss. His loins tightened at her
increasing responsiveness. Very gently, lest he break the spell he felt
stirring between them, Duncan brought her hand to rest against his pounding
heart. "Can you feel how you make my blood race? Do you like the feel of
me beneath your hand?" he asked, his voice husky. "Is touching me
pleasing to you?"

She
hesitated, then nodded. ‘Twas not a vigorous nod, but it'd been one just the
same.

"Would
you like to touch all of me?" She almost nodded, but stopped mid-nod and
turned her face away. Duncan could almost feel the furious heat of her blush.

"You've
no reason to be shy with me, Linnet," he said, smoothing the backs of his
fingers down her cheek. "I will never ask you to do aught you do not wish
to do." Taking her chin between his fingers, he turned her face back to
his. "But you have learned you can enjoy touching me whilst I'm awake,
have you not?"

Duncan
narrowed his eyes at her, trying to hold her captive with the power of his
gaze. "And you are enjoying this, are you not?"

"Aye,"
she admitted after another long moment's hesitation.

A
tremendous feeling of triumph coursed through Duncan. "Would you deny me
the same?"

Taking
her lower lip between her teeth, she slowly shook her head.

"Good.
Then shall we finally have done with your damp garments?"

She
still looked uncertain, nay,
embarrassed,
but she removed her
arisaid,
then raised her arms to accept his aid with the rest. At her acquiescence,
the pull at Duncan's groin became unbearable. Fighting hard to keep a hold on
his mounting passion, he made haste to rid her of her gown.

When
at last he'd drawn her thin undertunic from her body, his need raged sharper
than ever before. The sight of her, standing naked before him, freed to his
gaze, and not attempting to shield herself, nearly undid him. He knew it was
hard for her to remain still, arms at her sides, whilst his gaze raked over
her.

Yet
she did, and her very willingness to comply with his wishes despite her
unfounded shame awakened a deep and primitive need he'd thought long dead. The
need to truly please a woman. And to be as one with her.

Her
unassuming manner, so innocent and pure, so very
uncontrived,
stirred to
life something buried deep within him. The devil might take him for being a
fool, but he even suspected she desired him. Truly wanted him.

Something
akin to happiness pumped through him at the possibility. An empowering and
uplifting sensation that sent a portion of his pain tumbling away, freeing him,
and shining a beacon of light into the darkest region of his soul.

A
wondrously giddy, pleasure-laden feeling as powerful and deep-reaching in its
emotional intensity as the sharp pull at his groin was fiercely carnal.

An
unfamiliar emotion he'd not thought to experience, had never hoped to achieve.
Not with Linnet, not with any woman. So soundly had his first wife crushed the
dreams of his youthful heart.

Never
truly enjoying passion, she'd taken her pleasure in the knowledge her beauty
and uninhibited sexual appetites was a potent enough mix to make him, or any
man who caught her eye, crave her lascivious charms.

Yet
just
gazing
at his new lady, so unaffected and innocent, aroused him
more than Cassandra's practiced wantonness ever had.

His
comely Linnet with her rounded curves and fire-bright hair stirred him so, even
the thought of
her
could no longer chase away his desire.

Drinking
in his wife's lush enticements, so different from Cassandra's sleek form,
Duncan swallowed hard, his mouth gone dry with need.

How
had he ever thought his first wife's slender body so desirable? Not once had
she enflamed his blood the way Linnet did. Ne'er had he yearned to love
Cassandra as sweetly, as thoroughly, as he meant to pleasure Linnet. As if
testing the strong attraction he felt for her, Duncan fastened his gaze onto
the luxuriant nest of red-gold curls at the juncture of her shapely thighs.

Saints,
but he ached to touch her there, to build her passion with his fingers, then
feast upon her sweet woman's flesh with his lips and tongue until she moaned
her bliss, fully consumed by the thundering release he meant to give her. Only
then would he slake his own lust.

Sharp
bolts of white-hot longing shot through him at the mere thought of all the ways
he wanted to pleasure her. The urgency of his need gripped him so strongly he
felt it clear to the tips of his bare toes. If he didn't take his ease soon, he
would burst asunder.

"Sir,"
his lady's voice cut through the haze of his passion. "Do you still mean
to kiss me again?"

His
brows rose in surprise, but, truth to tell, her directness pleased him and
fired his blood even more. "Aye, I do," he said, his voice heavy with
passion, his shaft so full, so eager, he could scarce speak. "I shall kiss
you all the night through, and not just upon your lips."

She
drew a sharp intake of air at his last words, and Duncan caught a fleeting
glimpse of her tongue. ‘Twas enough. Nay, too much. With a ragged groan, he
pulled her into a savage embrace, slanting his mouth over hers in a hard, deep,
and possessive kiss.

A
kiss meant to hurl away the last vestiges of her doubts and awaken the ardor he
suspected would burn as brightly as his own. Reining in his own desire as best
he could, Duncan focused only on hers. He meant to assault her senses until she
surrendered completely, and began assaulting his in return. He wanted full,
total abandonment from her.

Proving
the fire she possessed, her mouth suddenly opened wider beneath his and she
boldly met the thrustings of his tongue, tangling hers with his in an erotic
dance that sent the remaining shards of his restraint spiraling out of
control.

Driven
by urges more powerful than he'd ever known, he swept her into his arms and
carried her to the bed. Without breaking their kiss, he used his shoulder to
shove aside the bedcurtains and eased her down, careful not to crush her
beneath his weight. For a long moment, he remained poised atop her, fair
drowning in the honeyed nectar of her mouth, seared by the heat of her body,
consumed by his burning need to possess her.

Their
kiss became fevered, their very breath mingling as one until it seemed he'd
lose his soul in the taste, feel, and scent of her.

And,
might the saints help him, he wanted to!

Like
a desperate man, too long starved of sustenance, he ravished her lips, slaking
his thirst, his hunger, as one possessed.

She
cried out in protest when finally he pulled away. "Dinna cease," she
whispered, her soft plea going straight under his skin, gouging another hole in
his defenses.

"I
shall kiss you many times over this night, lady," Duncan said, smoothing
his hands over and around the well-rounded globes of her breasts, reveling in
the glory of them. "But first I shall give you the same pleasure you've
given me. And this time ‘tis my hands that shall do the roaming,
I
who
shall explore.
You
shall lie back and allow me."

She
seemed to melt, to soften, upon his spoken intent. Staring at him from eyes no
longer a dull brown, now a rich, molten amber, she offered herself to him. Her
thighs were still tightly pressed together, and she said not a word, but Duncan
knew.

He
had but to take and she would give.

His
arousal at the sight she made, so temptingly displayed beneath him, and her
willingness to accept his need, made him forget all else.