Oh, goodness! Where did that thought come from? Quickly. She must push that idea to the back of her mind. Along with the mattress on the floor and how warm she’d grown from that wee fire in the grate.
“Stop thinking. I can hear yer brain talking,” Evan mumbled against her lips.
Thinking? She still couldn’t remember what number she was at to keep her mind focused. It seemed her brain had walked off and returned to the castle, which was where she should be right now. Away from this man and his temptation and behind the securely locked door of her bedchamber. With, perhaps, a chair pushed in front of it. Dressed in several layers of clothing.
It amazed her with how loud the storm had seemed such a short time ago that now all she coul
d hear was her heart thumping and the rapid breaths coming from both her and Evan.
“Ye need to remove yer coat, lass. ’Tis quite warm in here.”
“Aye. It has grown quite warm.” She repeated his words because she had forgotten most of her own vocabulary.
He helped her out of her coat. In a daze she watched him toss it on the arm of the sofa. Then he removed his tartan, which joined her coat. Next he removed his cravat to reveal the skin at his neck. Darker than hers. Her eyes moved down to the curly hair that rose from his linen shirt.
He grinned as he watched her watching him. “Aye. Ye like what ye see, lass?”
Her eyes flew up to his, but before she could offer a retort, he pulled her against him, his fingers linking at the base of her spine. “I hope ye like what ye see.” He smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “At least as much as I like what I see.” His head dipped and his mouth covered hers hungrily, his lips hard and searching.
His mouth left hers to nibble at her earlobe. “I love the taste of ye. The softness of yer skin.”
She soon found herself sprawled on top of him. When did he lie down?
Her hands roamed his shoulders, his sinewy muscles rippling under her touch. Even through his linen shirt, she could feel the warmth from his body. He returned once more to her mouth, and she quivered at the soft tenderness of his kiss. Unlike the others.
The room was growing warmer every minute, but all she could think about was this man, his lips, and how wonderful he made her feel. She hadn’t noticed his nimble fingers unfastening her frock until he pushed the bodice down, and he stared at her breasts through the almost invisible chemise, his lips curled in a slight smile. “Beautiful.”
She should be concerned. She should pull back, stop this nonsense right now, adjust her dress, and put an end to this. But why deny herself what he had her aching for? She would never marry, and at least this would give her something to hold onto once he left.
What number was she at again?
…
I should not be seducing the lass.
Evan had repeated the words to himself ever since he lowered his mouth to hers for the “one kiss.” He kenned as well as she that there would not be just one kiss.
His desire—and need—had reached the point where he just had to kiss the lass again. Of course, he could control himself if she truly said “nay,” but everything in her response to him screamed “aye.”
He moved back and viewed her breasts, which were nicely presented to him from the top of her stays. The thin chemise underneath covered nothing and only whetted his appetite to taste her. To feast on her breast, nibble on the dusky-rose nipple.
“What do ye say we make use of that mattress?” He tilted his head in the direction of the lumpy thing. ’Twas certainly not the place to take a woman for the first time, but he’d work with what he had. However little it was.
How he wished they were in his bedchamber at MacDuff Manor. Fine linen sheets, fresh smelling from blowing in the outdoor breeze. A warm counterpane to cover their chilling bodies when they were finished and cuddled up together, and fluffy pillows on which to rest their heads. She deserved as much, but with the temperature rising with their kisses and touches, the sorry mattress would have to do.
When she didn’t answer but merely nodded, he stood and scooped her into his arms. He walked the few steps to the mattress near the fireplace and gently laid her down. He came down alongside her and rested his head on his propped-up hand. With a slight smile, he slowly loosened the pink ribbon that held her chemise together. His shaky fingers made one final tug, and the two ribbon pieces separated. He took a deep breath as he moved the sides apart to reveal her perfect breasts.
“Ye are tempting, lass. So verra tempting.” He bent and took one rounded, plump breast into his mouth—suckling, teasing, and swirling around her nipple with his tongue.
Her hands fisted in his hair as she tugged him closer. “Aye. Oh, aye. That feels so good.” She threw her head back and softly moaned. He shifted to the other breast while his fingers continued to pluck on her other nipple.
She tasted like honey and smelled like a flower garden in full bloom. He pulled back and whipped his shirt over his head, tossing it in the direction of her discarded jacket. She whimpered her displeasure at his abandonment. “No worries, lass.”
Evan took her hand and placed it on his bare chest. “Touch me, mo chridhe; I want to feel yer hands on me.”
Not a shy miss, her hands roved over his chest, her fingers tugging on the curly hairs. “Yer so warm.”
“Aye. Ye make me warm, lass. Hot, even.” He pulled her against him for another searing kiss, his hands busy pushing down her frock. “Lift, darlin’.” She raised her hips, and he slid the dress, stays, and chemise down and off, leaving her in just her stockings and half boots. He studied her in the scant light from the candle.