Page 40 of The Guardian
She opened her mouth to tell him she would not be here to do it, but stopped herself. Ian was set on doing his duty to his family and clan, and he had decided that duty included making her his true wife. It was best, then, that he not know she was making other plans.
“And what are you good at?” she asked instead.
“Just as ye say,” he said, leaning closer, his even white teeth gleaming. “Seducing my wife.”
She felt herself blush to her roots. “I’m no your wife.”
“But ye are,” he said.
“Ye did not claim me for five years.”
He slid a hand beneath her hair and cupped the back of her neck as he leaned toward her. “Well, I’m claiming ye now.”
The saints protect her, Ian was going to kiss her. The memory of waking to his kisses sent an unfamiliar rush of desire through her. His lids were half lowered over eyes that held a molten heat like the blue in a hot fire. She felt herself leaning toward him, like a moth flying into the flame.
His kiss was soft and sensuous, caressing her lips with a tantalizing suggestion of all that a kiss could be. When he drew away, she followed him. He smiled against her lips, then ran his tongue lightly over her bottom lip. How could that small movement fill her with such a powerful yearning? She gripped the front of his linen shirt in her fists to steady herself.
He made a sound deep in his throat that she felt more than heard. When he pressed his mouth to hers this time, it wasn’t a teasing brush of lips but a kiss that sent the blood pounding through her veins. She felt his heart beating beneath her hands as he pulled her against him.
Her own heart pounded in her ears as he deepened the kiss. She didn’t remember opening her mouth to him, but their tongues were moving together in a rhythm that resonated deep inside her. She felt a growing urgency in him that was both frightening and exhilarating.
His fingers were buried in her hair, and his body was taut with the same tension that ran through hers. As he ran hot, wet kisses beneath her ear and down the side of her throat, she cupped his jaw with her hand. The rough day’s growth of beard tickled the sensitive skin of her palm and sent shivers of pleasure up her arm.
She loved his face. Touching it now made her realize that she had been longing to hold it in her hands since the first night he returned.
She sucked in a shaky breath as he worked his way along the top of her bodice with his mouth. Now. She should stop him now.
But she was hungry for a man’s touch. For this man’s touch. For Ian.
She stopped breathing as he slowly slid his tongue over the curve of her breast. It was as if Ian read her body, for no sooner was she aware of a low ache between her legs than he made it worse by resting a warm, heavy hand on her thigh. When she made a sound at the back of her throat, he lifted his head to capture her mouth again.
She was light-headed, drowning in his kisses. How long they kissed she could never have said. When he pulled away, she became aware of his hand moving up her thigh and his breath hot in her ear.
“We need to move to the bed,” he said, his voice rough with longing, and she wanted to go wherever he was taking her. “I don’t want to make love to ye the first time in a chair.”
Putting to words where this was headed finally brought her to her senses.
“No,” she said, pushing him away.
He dropped his forehead on her shoulder. “Sìl, don’t say no,” he said, sounding as if he were in pain. “Please.”
The room had become sweltering, and the only sound was their harsh breathing.
“I want ye something fierce.” Though he didn’t touch her except where his forehead rested on her shoulder, the air vibrated with the tension between them.
“I said no.” She didn’t try to push him away again, for fear that if she touched him she could not make herself let go again.
He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Whatever ye say,” he whispered, then he leaned back on his stool. “But will ye tell me why?”
The heat in his gaze burned her skin. She bit her lip but wouldn’t answer.
“Ye can’t tell me ye don’t like it when I kiss ye,” he said, his voice rich like honey on her tongue. “Or that ye don’t like the way I touch ye, because I can tell ye do.”
His words sent another wave of heat through her.
“I believe ye would enjoy… the rest.”
Oh, aye. She used to wonder if she would enjoy marital relations, but now she was quite certain she would—at least, she would if it were with Ian. Her heart was still pounding as if she’d run a race.
