He swallowed as she let her gown fall to the floor and stepped out of it. Before he could get his breath, her chemise followed it.
Apparently, his wife had decided to set a tone for the nights of their marriage. It seemed like a fine one to him. And he was pleased that she’d ceased to fret over her scars as well.
He let his gaze travel over her, from her shining mass of wavy hair, which fell over her bare shoulders and breasts like a wood nymph, to the tight curls that covered her secret place, and then down her long legs, all the way to her slender ankles and feet.
“Ach, ye are beautiful, Sileas.”
“Your clothes now.” When he sat down on the bed and reached for his boot, she pushed him back. “I’ll do it.”
He never knew how provocative it could be to have a naked woman at his feet pulling his boots off. The glimpse of heaven she gave him had his cock standing straight. When she knelt between his legs and ran her hands up his thighs, he unfastened his belt and tossed it aside without looking to see where it fell.
He was breathing hard as her hands moved up his legs, under his long shirt. Of course, he wore nothing under it. His cock pushed up the cloth calling attention to itself.
She locked eyes with him as she ran her hands up the sides of his hips. “Your shirt?”
“Aye!” He rose up enough to pull it out from under him and whipped it off.
This time, she tortured him by running her hands over the tops of his legs, along the sides of his hips, and then over his chest. Finally, she wrapped her hand around his cock.
As she moved her hand up and down his shaft, he gripped her shoulders and kissed her with all the passion he felt. It was long moments before he remembered he had meant to make love to her slowly. When she broke the kiss, it came back to him… but it was hard to hold on to the thought. Her hair brushed his thighs and belly as she kissed his chest.
When her kisses drifted lower, his mind stopped working altogether.
“Ahh!” The air went out of him when he felt the soft touch of her lips on the tip of his shaft.
“Is that how it’s done?” she asked.
He couldn’t answer, but she must have taken his groan as encouragement for she continued her efforts. They were quite good, but finally, he was able to get the words out to offer a suggestion. “Ye can use your whole mouth, love.”
Sileas had good instincts and needed no more instruction. Ian lay back on the bed, panting. Vaguely, the thought came to him that he should stop her and make love to her properly, but he couldn’t make himself. What she was doing felt too damned good.
He came in an explosion that nearly killed him—and left him grateful. He pulled her up on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. “Ah, love, that was… that was… verra, verra nice…”
He fought the weight of his eyelids, but he hadn’t slept much for close to a fortnight.
He awoke to the smell of the summer heather in her hair. When he opened his eyes, she was sitting up, leaning on one arm and watching him with a smile on her face. She looked pleased with herself.
“Tell me I didn’t sleep long.”
“No. Just a wee doze.”
Judging from the height of the candles, she was telling him the truth. Still, he must have dreamed of her, because he woke up wanting her. He rested a hand on her thigh.
“How did ye know to do that?” Thinking of her mouth on him made him harder.
“I heard the married women talking about how men liked it.”
He’d never appreciated women’s gossip before.
“They were laughing, so I wasn’t sure if they were joking.” She gave him a crooked smile. “I guess they weren’t.”
The candlelight played across her skin. Her nipples were rosy and peaked, and her eyes went dark when he cupped her breast and rubbed his thumb over the hardened nipple.
“I did like it,” he said.
He pulled her down into a deep kiss and slid his hand between her thighs. She was hot and wet for him. From the way she was kissing him, she didn’t want to wait.
Next time, for certain. Next time, he would take her slowly.
He did. And the time after that as well. They dozed between bouts of lovemaking.
When he awoke for the last time, the candles were gone, and the first light of dawn was coming through the window. He propped himself up on one elbow to watch her sleep. Though her tangled hair looked like a wild storm across the pillow, her face was peaceful.
Ian felt so much tenderness for her that it was like an ache inside him.
Though he’d told her in Stirling he would let her choose another man if she didn’t want him, he knew that now for the lie that it was. He could never have let her go.
He loved her. He didn’t know when it happened, but he suspected it was long before he realized it. With the back of his hand, he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
Sileas didn’t know her own value. He loved her strength, her good heart, her curiosity, and her courage. Though
