Page 32 of Captured by a Laird
Was he jesting? With Blackadder, she had known what to expect, but Wedderburn was a paradox, by turns threatening and considerate.
He lifted the weight of her hair over his arm and slowly drew the comb through it from her scalp to the ends.
“How was that?” he asked.
“You’ve a gentler touch than the women who combed it earlier,” she said.
He chuckled, a deep, reassuring sound. “I do?”
“Aye, though ’tis not saying much,” she said, hoping to make him chuckle again.
“If they treated ye roughly,” he said, “they will be punished.”
“Please don’t,” she said quickly. “I am sure they didn’t mean to.” Of course, they had, but the women would find subtle ways to make her suffer in retribution if they were punished.
His “hmmph” in response could mean anything, but she had greater worries at the moment than disrespectful servants. Despite her fears, she felt her body begin to relax as he combed her hair with smooth, rhythmic strokes.
After a long while, he set down the comb, and she tensed again as he knelt in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her head. She tried to control her panic, but he could crush her head between those powerful hands. When he began to rub her temples, she drew in a shaky breath.
Why was he doing this?His handsome face was unreadable. After a time, she found it difficult to stay on her guard. As the tension left her body, it was replaced by an overwhelming tiredness, and her eyes drifted closed.
“By the heavens, you’re beautiful,” he said.
Her eyes flew open, and she found herself staring into piercing green eyes just inches from hers. She could not breathe with him so close.
“I want ye so badly it hurts,” he said in a rough whisper, looking as though he would like to swallow her whole.
She braced herself, knowing what would come next.
“But we can take as long as ye like to become…acquainted.” His eyes held hers as he spoke, but his fingers drifted down the length of her arm and then encased her hand.
Her breath caught in her throat when he pushed her shift off her shoulder.
“I intend to become well acquainted with every lovely inch of ye,” he said, and pressed his lips to the skin he had just bared. “And I’ll have ye wanting me when we consummate this marriage.”
His pledge to wait until she wanted him was an empty one, unless he was willing to wait for all eternity. Still, Alison was grateful for whatever time it bought her.
He pulled her to her feet. When he cupped her cheek and locked his gaze on her mouth, her throat went dry. Her breath hitched as he dragged his thumb across her bottom lip.
He was going to kiss her. She knew it would be different from Blackadder’s kisses, but she did not know how. Her heart beat wildly as he leaned down, inching closer and closer until she felt his breath on her mouth. When his lips finally touched hers, they were surprisingly soft, and hers parted on a sigh. Despite her fears and the harrowing tales she’d heard about him, her only thought was,This is how a kiss should be.
Except for his hand on her face, only their mouths touched. His tongue gently probed her mouth, sending darts of pleasure to her toes. His fingers slid through her hair, massaging her head. Her mind grew sluggish, as if drugged by a potion, while her skin became far too sensitive. Every fiber of her body seemed drawn to the heat of his, so near but not quite touching.
She had heard poets speak of kisses that enthralled like a spell, but she had thought they exaggerated, if not outright lied. She had been wrong. Of their own accord, her hands went around his neck, and with the pressure of just her fingertips, she brought his powerful body against hers.
He groaned and pulled her into deeper, wetter kisses, and she sank into him like warm honey over hot bread. When he broke the kiss, she felt dazed and unsteady on her feet. By the heavens, that was nothing like Blackadder’s slobbering kisses.
Before she could recover, he swept her up into his arms, carried her to the bed, and laid her down. She could not catch her breath. After barely touching her before, his hands and mouth were everywhere.
“Ye feel so good,” he said as he pressed kisses to her cheeks, her eyelids, her hair, her neck.
He paused just long enough to jerk his breeks off, and she got an eyeful of his enormous, pulsing erection. Fear coursed through her as he sprawled half on top of her and locked his arms around her. She felt trapped, suffocated.
She told herself it would be over soon, and she mustn’t aggravate him. Still, a small gasp of alarm escaped her lips when she felt his shaft, hard and urgent, prodding her hip. He drew back at once and examined her with a furrow between his brows.
“Ach, I frightened ye.” He was breathing hard. “From the way ye kissed me, I thought…Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
He moved to lie beside her and propped his head up on one elbow. The candlelight played over the hard, handsome features of his face, picked up the gold glints in his hair, and lit his skin with a warm glow.
