Ewan’s mouth gaped open. He was sure he hadn’t heard correctly. No skill? His mouth closed then fell open and then he snapped it shut with the force of his incredulity.
She shrugged. “ ’Tis a well-known fact that a man is either skilled in matters of loving or matters of war. ’Tis obvious that fighting is your skill.”
Ewan winced. The little wench was shredding his manhood. His c**k positively shriveled under her criticism. Anger warred with exasperation until he saw the tremble of her lower lip and the trepidation in her eyes.
He sighed. “Ah, lass, ’tis true I bedded you with all the skill of a stable boy with his first woman.”
Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and he kicked himself for his coarseness. He dug his fingers into his hair.
“You were a virgin. ’Tis unlikely anything I could have done would have made it good, but there is a lot I could have done to make it more pleasant.”
“I would have liked pleasant,” she said wistfully.
He cursed. How badly had he hurt her? He knew he hadn’t given her the pleasure or patience she deserved. At the time, all he’d known was that he had to consummate the marriage with all haste. There hadn’t been time to seduce a shy virgin. Only now his shy virgin had turned into a stubborn, unwilling wife.
“Mairin, the marriage wasn’t valid until I bedded you. I couldn’t risk having something happen before I had the chance to bed you. If you’d been captured, Cameron could have taken you and petitioned to have our marriage set aside. He would have bedded you and got you with child to strengthen his claim.”
Her lip trembled and she cast her eyes downward to where her fingers twisted nervously at her skirts.
He took advantage of her momentary distraction and closed in. He reached down and took her hands in his. She was small and soft. Delicate. The idea that he’d been too rough, that he’d hurt her, unsettled him.
He should suffer no guilt for taking his wife. Her duty was to provide him pleasure, however he saw fit to take it. But the memory of her tear-filled eyes was a fist to his gut.
“It won’t be like that from now on.”
She raised her eyes to his and her brow wrinkled in confusion. “It won’t?”
“Nay, it won’t.”
“Why?”
He tempered his irritation and reminded himself that she needed a gentle hand right now.
“Because I’m quite skilled in loving,” he said. “And I plan to show you.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“I do.”
Her mouth rounded, and she tried to take a step back. He held her hands tightly in his and pulled her back until she bumped into his chest.
“In fact, I intend to show you how very skilled I am.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
She swallowed and stared into his eyes, her own, wide and confused. “When do you plan to do this, Laird?”
He bent and swept his mouth over hers. “Right now.”
Chapter 15
Mairin put her hands on Ewan’s chest to steady herself, else she would have fallen under his relentless assault on her senses. She sighed and leaned farther into his kiss, not even protesting when his tongue slid sensuously over her bottom lip as he coaxed her to open.
The man might not be skilled in loving, but she could drown in his kisses. Maybe he’d be amenable to continue kissing and forego the rest.
“Kiss me back,” he murmured. “Open your mouth. Let me taste you.”
His words slid like velvet over her skin. She shivered as her br**sts plumped and swelled. An ache began deep in her body, in parts that didn’t bear mentioning. How was he able to incite such a response when all he was doing was kissing her?
His palms glided up her waist and then up over her shoulders and up her neck until he framed her face. The heat from his touch branded her. It felt as though she’d have permanent marks on her cheeks from his fingers, and yet he was exquisitely gentle, the tips glancing over her skin like tiny winged creatures.
Unable to deny the probing of his tongue, she relaxed her mouth and allowed him to slide inside. Warm and rough. So very sinful. It was a decadent senson, one she was certain she should deny herself, but she couldn’t.
The temptation to taste him back was strong. So strong that it beat an incessant rhythm at her temples, in her mind, at her very core. Shyly she brushed her tongue over his lips. He groaned and she immediately pulled back, afraid she’d done something wrong.
He hauled her right back and captured her mouth once again in a ravenous fashion that left her breathless.
“Do it again,” he whispered. “Taste me.”
From the sound of it, he hadn’t disliked her touching him with her tongue. Tentatively she licked over his lip again. He relaxed his mouth against hers, opening so she had access.
Feeling braver, she boldly pushed forward, hot and wet. She shivered from the sheer carnality of something so simple as a kiss. She felt naked and vulnerable, as if she was spread out and underneath him as he slaked his lust over and over. Only this time she burned for him. She wanted him over her, his body covering hers. She felt twitchy and anxious, like her skin was too tight.
“This time I’ll undress you as I should,” he whispered, as he walked her back toward the bed.
Her mind was dim and she was slow sorting through her muddled thoughts. She frowned, knowing he didn’t have the right of it again. Was she forever going to have to instruct him?
“I should undress you. ’Tis my duty,” she said.
He grinned. “ ’Tis only your duty when I say it is. Tonight I fully intend to undress you and enjoy every moment. You deserve a slow wooing, lass. This will be your wedding night all over again. If I could go back and do it all differently, I would. But I’ll give you the next best thing. I’ll give you tonight.”