William touched a hand to her shoulder. “Killing isna easy. It shouldna be easy. Ye’ll remember this for the rest of yer life.”
Her blue eyes were fixed on his, luminous and wide. As if she were searching into his soul. She reached up, lightly cupping his face in her hands and rose on her toes to press her mouth to his.
Her lips were warm as they moved over his, tentatively at first, then boldly as her tongue brushed his. A helpless groan rumbled in his chest as he drew her toward him without thought, desperate for the sweetness of her mouth. She tilted her head back to deepen the kiss and slid her hand over his shoulder.
Fire raced through his veins and made his cock swell with insistent need. But even as his hands glided over her waist, doubt edged into his thoughts.
He shouldn’t be in her room, and he most certainly shouldn’t be kissing her.
She arched her body against him, grinding her pelvis to his arousal. Pleasure tingled through his groin.
Her hands eased over the back of his neck, holding him to her, wanting him with her.
This.
This was what he knew about women. Desire. Lust. The euphoria of that slow, sweet burn.
His hands skimmed up her narrow waist to the sides of her breasts. She exhaled a sigh and arched her chest into his waiting palms as his thumbs brushed over the smooth linen of her kirtle, finding the peaks of her nipples.
She sucked in a breath, and he knew he’d found exactly the right spot. He teased the small buds through the fabric until they rose hard and eager under his fingertips. How he wished the linen between them was gone, and it was his tongue touching her silky skin instead.
With one hand still on her breast, he slid the other lower to her bottom, cupping her round, firm arse and pushing her more snugly against his raging need. She cried out as her kisses became more urgent. Her thighs parted around one of his, and she rubbed over him in a desperate rhythm he knew all too well.
Aye, this was what they both needed.
The bed was near. He wanted her underneath him, so they could fit their bodies together properly. So he could ease her neckline down and free her breasts for him to lick and suck and tease.
He lowered both hands to her thighs and pulled, gentle but firm, lifting her onto his hips, where her thighs locked around him.
It would be so easy to shift her skirt aside. She was already spread open for him, and he knew without a doubt that she would be slick with yearning, that he could easily plunge into her.
But, nay, he’d spent too much time waiting for his moment to rush. He wanted to take his time with her.
He carried Kinsey to the bed, braced himself on the coverlet with one arm, and carefully lowered them both to the mattress. Her legs remained spread over his hips, her fingers now freely roaming over his chest, his arms, his stomach.
Her touch brushed over his cock, and he hissed out a breath.
At that point, there was a line drawn, one he knew once crossed would be difficult to turn back. He looked down to gaze at the woman he wanted so badly, the woman he’d been restricted from having.
Aye, she was beautiful, more so than ever before, if such a thing were even possible. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair in wild disarray and her mouth rosy from their frantic kissing. He wanted to make her cry out with pleasure. To sate her in ways she never dreamed.
Then his father’s image, of all unwanted things, appeared in William’s mind. How Laird MacLeod’s mouth had curled around the word “whore.”
He drew back.
What was he doing? She was upset over the man she’d slain, over the ugliness of a raid. She needed comfort, not passion.
Kinsey reached for him. “Nay.”
He shook his head. “This isna what ye need right now.”
“I need to forget.” She looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a heavy-lidded stare, her hair flowing in a tangle of curls. “I need ye.”
Such exquisite temptation.
“Ye have me,” he said, the admission was more sincere than he cared for it to be.
She arched her hips where her thighs still locked around him, so their pelvises ground against one another. Her head dropped back with a moan.
His ballocks tightened with the bliss of that sweet friction. There was, of course, something he could do for her while still ensuring she remained pure.
He moved off of her, and she gave a small whimper of protest. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he lay on the bed beside her.
“Lean against me,” he said.
The bed creaked on its ropes as she adjusted her position, so she nestled her back against him. She wriggled closer, pressing her round arse against the hardness of his cock. He gritted his teeth and focused his thoughts.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, her expression coy.
This might be the most difficult thing he’d done in his life: to give gratification and not accept it in return.
* * *
Kinsey’s mind spun with an intoxicating lightness, bringing pleasure and frustration alike.
William’s body was a wall of strength against her backside. She arched into him, unable to cease the flex of her hips any more than she could snuff the flame of her desire.
When she was kissing William, when his hands were on her, she wasn’t thinking of the man she’d killed or the woman who had been slain. There was no missing her family and home or having her heart break just a little more at the loss of Fib. There was nothing but the transcendence of their intimacy.
William brushed her hair over her shoulder. Awareness heightened every one of her senses and the simple touch
