She was startled and alarmed at first, but he softened the kiss. When she realized what he’d done she relaxed against him.
He released her just enough to free his hands to roam down her back. A sound escaped her lips that she’d never made before in her life. A pleasure-filled moan. He answered with an enticing groan of his own.
His tongue tickled her lips, and she opened enough for him to enter and tease her. His heat surrounded her, and she shivered with nervous excitement.
“You don’t really snore,” he said as his lips found her neck.
“I don’t mind that you take the blankets,” she confessed. “It means I get to snuggle against you while you sleep.”
He raised his head to look at her with a sly grin. “I steal the blankets so you have no choice but to sleep closer against me.”
“You naughty—” She didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence because he was kissing her again. Gentle kisses intentionally kept away from the side of her mouth that was cut.
She hadn’t noticed he’d moved her backward until the backs of her thighs touched the edge of the bed.
The bed.
She knew what would happen next. Or what should.
When she tensed, he backed away, giving her room. “What is it? Did I hurt ye?”
She almost cried at the difference between the two men she’d married. One constantly worried he’d hurt her when he had not, while the first had hurt her deliberately over and over with no regret.
However, that was not what worried her at the moment. She had braved an argument with Cameron only to end up faced with the next problem.
The marital bed.
It had always been the source of her late husband’s anger, but she didn’t want to risk turning Cameron away. He’d told her she could tell him anything and he wouldn’t be angry. But certainly he had expectations now. She did not want to disappoint him.
There was no time to write it in a letter. She’d have to figure out a way to communicate her concerns.
Instead of speaking, she reached for him and drew him down to kiss her again. Because of his response to her, she felt more powerful than she ever had before. She had initiated this kiss and it was wonderful.
They got caught up again in their kiss. Her earlier worries faded slightly as passion took over.
“I want you,” he whispered. “Can I remove your shift?”
The fact that he asked meant the world to her. She nodded, even as her heart sank. Things between them would change as soon as he saw her body.
She expected him to reach for her immediately, but instead he removed his own shirt, freeing it from his waistband and pulling it over his head in one fluid movement. He smiled and stepped closer. She looked up from the sight of his sculpted chest into his happy, golden eyes. Slowly he reached for her.
It felt so good when her body didn’t automatically flinch away. If he took it slowly enough, perhaps she could control those negative reactions after all.
He tugged up her gown and pulled it over her head. She couldn’t help but cover her chest with her arms, yet another thing her body did without her permission.
Gently he took her wrists in his hands and drew them aside so he could look at her. His head tilted to the side, and his eyes narrowed on her breasts.
Oh, God. Here it comes—the disgust, the revulsion.
She tried desperately to cover herself, but he didn’t release her hands.
A familiar panic began to rise at being held. Her heart pounded, and she had to take a deep breath to remain calm. This was Cameron. He would release her. She only needed to ask.
She didn’t.
“Do they hurt you still?” His voice cracked as his gaze lingered on the scars across her breasts.
“No. They are years old,” she said, her face flaming.
“I wish the bastard wasna already dead so I could have the pleasure of killing him myself.”
The vehemence of Cameron’s vengeance didn’t scare her. He was a war chief, a fierce warrior who had killed men. Yet, she was not afraid of him. At least not at the moment.
“He was my enemy,” she said quietly, as she’d told Kenna.
“Aye. I hope someday you will stop having to fight him in your dreams.”
He spoke of her nightmares and the fear that still lived in her mind and in the way her body responded.
“I do not fear you, Cameron MacKinlay.” She lifted her chin to show her courage. It was the truth, she wasn’t afraid of physical harm.
However, she was worried about what would happen next.
He kissed her as his fingers loosened her braid and tangled in her hair. She reached up, placing her hands on his broad shoulders, his neck and shoulder muscles moving under her palms as he bent to kiss her. Such power harnessed by such a kind heart.
She gasped in surprise when he touched her breasts, lifting them into his hands and kneading them tenderly. It was…pleasant, but she felt acutely self-conscious about all the scars.
Then he went to his knees before her and kissed her stomach, her abdomen, and breasts, and her thoughts scattered in a flood of pleasure. He paid special attention to her left breast, where the nipple was twisted and puckered.
She’d expected him to be disgusted when he saw her naked, but his groan of need told her otherwise. He truly didn’t mind the scars. He stood, and the hardness of his arousal pushed against her through his kilt.
She didn’t want the barrier of fabric between them any longer. Reaching for his belt, her fingers trembled as she made short work of the buckle. His kilt dropped to the floor with a thump. She was both too afraid to look and too excited not to.
She glanced down and wished she hadn’t. She swallowed in alarm,
