She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper into her. The euphoric grip on him tightened as her cries pitched. Suddenly her core spasmed around his cock, enticing him toward his own orgasm. A low groan tore from his chest as it crashed over him, taking him to a place where stars flashed before his eyes.
Hot and cold all at once. Tingles dancing over his skin. And through it all, that incredible clench squeezing him as Kinsey experienced the same pleasure.
Finally, the world came back to him, starting first with Kinsey gazing up at him with a languid smile. Never had he seen anything more beautiful.
Never had he cared for a woman more.
The revelation was terrifying. They could never be, especially when he knew his obligation.
Even if she did possess his heart.
* * *
Lying with William had been a mistake. Mayhap the greatest, most exquisite one of Kinsey’s whole life, but a mistake, nonetheless.
It was the first thought that came to her the following morning when sunlight framed the shutters, when the blaze of lust had long since cooled. He was behind her still, a wall of heat and strength, his arm protectively thrown around her.
It wasn’t the act she regretted, for the pleasure she experienced was worth every brilliant moment. Nor was it the loss of her maidenhead, which had always been of little consequence to her. Nay, it was the effect the act had on her heart.
She’d meant for the intimacy to be something without meaning. The way men discussed it, the act was supposed to simply sate lust.
But as she lay in the cradle of his embrace, the intimacy between them made a place within her glow with unexpected warmth.
He shifted at her back and nuzzled her with his unshaven jaw, sprinkling kisses over her sensitive shoulder and neck. She shivered with pleasure.
“Did ye sleep well?” His voice was gravelly with sleep.
Too well.
Everything in her ached to arch back against him. “Aye.”
His hand brushed down her naked shoulder. “Ye’re no’ too sore?”
She squeezed her thighs together, where there was a hint of soreness, though it was nearly drowned out by the thrum of desire.
How could she want more of him when she’d been so thoroughly sated the night before? And if her heart were already falling into his palms, wouldn’t it only hasten the path if she gave in to her need?
His hand slipped beneath the blanket and caressed her hip.
The pulse of desire quickened, and she found herself questioning if they would have time to couple once more, rather than mulling over reasons why she ought not to. “When must we depart?”
“Soon.” He gave a low, sensual chuckle in her ear. “No’ enough time to do everything I want.” His hand left her hip and went to her face instead, turning her toward him. “Especially watching ye when ye climax.”
Self-consciousness flooded her. Knowing he had observed her in such an uncontrolled moment scalded her cheeks with heat. “Why?”
“’Tis as though I can feel yer pleasure as ye experience it.” He propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at her, taking his time, as if they had scores of it. “The way yer cheeks flush, how yer lips part around yer cries. That time ye came for me, I couldna clear it from my mind. I would harden at the mere thought of ye.”
She recalled his solid arousal and a quiver of anticipation squeezed through her. She had done that.
“The men will be waiting for us.” He brushed a kiss across her lips and pushed up from the bed. She’d enjoyed the front of his nakedness before. Now, she sat up to better follow his finely sculpted backside as he padded over the wooden floor to the ewer.
His broad back rippled with muscles at every small movement and tapered to a narrow waist and hips with a firm arse. A light sprinkling of dark hair covered his thighs and calves.
Aye, he was indeed a handsome, well-built man.
He tugged on his trews. “I’ll return to my room and ready to leave from there."
His statement was a reminder of the ugly truth sitting between them: that their passion had to be kept a secret, and he would need to marry for his clan.
Not that Kinsey wanted marriage. It sounded like more rules and structure than she cared for, especially being a laird’s wife, which was not a role she’d ever wanted. She craved freedom, adventure, the life she was living now. A man would only impede such liberties.
Or so she told herself.
William approached the bed with his gambeson untied, and his leine untucked and gave her a lopsided smile. “Dinna be late, my warrior.” He lowered toward her and swept his mouth over hers.
With an affectionate wink, he snuck out into the hall and was gone. It wasn’t until the door closed behind him and she was left alone that she longed for nothing more than to have him back at her side.
She roused herself from the bed they’d shared and washed as best she could. The Englishmen’s packs they’d stolen had some clothing in them that had been passed between the men. There had even been one with trews and a tunic small enough to fit her. She dressed in the English clothes now, marveling at how costly they were. A squire’s attire, no doubt.
William was already downstairs by the time she finished readying herself.
Duff slapped him on the shoulder as she approached. “I saw ye creeping back to yer room no’ an hour ago. Where were ye at, pray tell?”
William smirked in response.
“Ach, then ye were with a lass.” Duff nudged him. “He always gets closed up when he’s spent the night with a wench.”
Something gripped Kinsey’s heart. Dread. Humiliation. Shame.
What would they all think of her to
