Page 44 of Highland Seduction

Had Ainsley truly been bold enough to lean across the table to kiss her husband?

She had, and his response emboldened her. Remembering what he had said in the furrier’s storage room, while Tor drank from her lips, Ainsley allowed her hand to wander. As Tor realized her intent, he pulled away. Again.

But this time, it seemed, he’d not be stopping her completely. Without breaking her gaze, Tor began to undress. Taking his cue, she removed her own boots as well. Piece by piece, Tor removed an item of his clothing, and she did the same.

Neither said a word.

He’d seen her nude before, so Ainsley tried not to feel ashamed. Instead, as her gown slipped to the floor and she reached for the hem of her shift, she remembered Tor nearly leaping from the table when she’d leaned over for a simple kiss.

He desired her.

And she desired him.

More than that, he’d admitted to giving thought to their situation as well. If Tor simply wished to annul their marriage still, he could have said naught. But his treatment of her these past days told her already that her husband was beginning, as she was, to reconsider their plan.

And then, he was fully nude himself. His body was so very different from hers. Honed for battle, strong enough to strike a man dead with one blow. Yet his eyes were gentle in their perusal. He groaned as Ainsley stepped over the puddle of clothing toward him.

Once again, their mouths clashed together, and this time, there was no impediment to her touch. At first, when she wrapped her hand around him—from the soft tip to hard ridges as she moved—Ainsley was uncertain. But when Tor wrapped his hand around hers, showing her how to move it, she became as emboldened as she’d been at the table.

Ainsley did not want to need him, but as her husband’s tongue tangled with her own, a sharp stab of possession struck her. The thought of him not kissing her or touching her was unbearable.

“Ainsley,” he moaned as she increased the speed of her movements. She thought then of his words in the storage room. “Ainsley,” he said again, his head tipping back, eyes closing.

“I wish for ye to find release too,” she said. His eyes whipped open. Her hand slowed to a stop. “Ye said ’twas possible,” she hedged, “if I touched ye like this.”

“Possible.” His hand snaked out and reached behind Ainsley’s neck. “And very likely if ye were to continue.”

She continued. “Ye looked at my lips as if—”

“Oh God, Ainsley, nay.”

“I am so sorry. I thought . . . of course, ’tis no’ done. I must have imagined it.” His fingers pressed against the nape of her neck. Somehow, she knew. The look in his eyes revealed the truth of it. “I didnae imagine it. That ye looked at my lips earlier when we were discussing . . .” She could not continue.

“Me spilling my seed? As I told ye, Ainsley, there are no words between us that cannae be spoken aloud.”

She nodded. “Aye.”

“’Tis done, but—”

It was all Ainsley needed to hear. He’d given her pleasure, and she would do the same. Kneeling, Ainsley pulled her hair to one side. Then, as she glanced up one last time for his approval, any doubts she had fled. The look he gave her reminded her of when she caught him peering at her at the wedding from across the hall. Before he turned away.

It was one of lust. Of longing.

For her.

She knew little of what she was doing, only that she wished to pleasure him as he had her. At the first touch of her lips, at the sound Tor made, Ainsley began to fully understand the power she held over him. When she took him more fully into her mouth, she was certain of it. His hand wrapped through her hair, guiding her.

“Ainsley.” His voice sounded unfamiliar. Pained almost. “Wife, I’m going to come if ye . . .” She did not relent. “Ainsley, ye dinnae have to . . .” He attempted to pull her back even as his breathing became more and more unsteady.

Instead, she took him deeper. Tor’s roar of pleasure was surely heard by the entire inn. Somehow, Ainsley hadn’t even realized her hands had moved to the back of his thighs just below his buttocks, but now, as she pulled away and felt the muscles continuing to tighten, she moved her hands upwards, emboldened. In response, her husband’s backside flinched.

“Everywhere I touch,” she said, standing as Tor helped lift her, “ye respond.” She licked her lips.

“Ainsley,” he said again, but never finished. Suddenly, his mouth was on her once again. Tor kissed Ainsley so thoroughly, she only realized they’d moved to the bed when he fairly tossed her onto it. Then, climbing above her, Tor nudged open her legs. He was between them before she could stop him.

Gripping the coverlet, she had no time to even utter a word as Tor touched his tongue to her very core. His fingers held her thighs, and, as he had done to her, Ainsley reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair. She did not guide him as he’d done. Tor knew well what he was about. Crying out, Ainsley’s grip tightened. Her eyes closed and her hips met Tor’s every touch. The sight of him between her legs that way . . .

Oh my.