"I’m up to them," he said, with another of those gravelly laughs that made her bones dissolve with yearning.
He caught a handful of her hair in his fist and leaned in to kiss her again. His lips soothed her uncertainty, but not her curiosity. In fact, it was his…upness that troubled her.
"You said you wanted me," she said against his lips.
He frowned as he lifted his head. "Good God, you can’t doubt that."
"I’m beginning to."
He sat up and stared at her in consternation. "What the devil…"
Explaining this was difficult, not least because she still trembled after those extraordinary moments when she’d flown free of the world’s bounds. Her explanation emerged in a breathless rush.
"I thought you’d be in a hurry. I thought there would only be…hurry." She scowled as she sat up, clutching the sheet to her bosom. "Now you’re trying not to laugh at me."
"Actually I think we’re both rather funny."
"Why? What am I meant to think? You haven’t even taken off your kilt."
"I was trying not to frighten you." She saw he, too, struggled for words. "This is your first time with a man. I want it to be good for you, so I’m—"
"Preparing the ground?"
This time he did laugh, although with a bashful note that made her susceptible heart contract with adoration. "If you like. I’m…big all over, you see."
He certainly was. She remembered his rampant virility from their chaotic wedding night. When she felt bereft without him, she’d often let her mind dwell on the image as a naughty pleasure. Now when she thought about that hefty organ invading her body, she began to see the problem. "You’re saying you won’t fit?"
Hamish started to blush. "I’m saying things might be somewhat painful, at least the first time. So I’m trying to make you as…relaxed as possible first."
"When you touch me, it’s not relaxing," she said emphatically.
"It’s not?"
"No, it’s exciting and stirring and—"
He groaned and closed his eyes. "Stop, Emily. Or you’ll get your rushed coupling after all."
As she stared at him sitting beside her, she realized that caught up in her unprecedented responses, she’d missed the signs of how he was reacting. He wasn’t nearly as at ease as she’d thought. Tension bunched in those broad shoulders, and the angle of his masterful jaw told her he fought to rein himself in. "You’re being…kind again."
Another agonized groan and this time, she heard the strain behind the sound. "Don’t you believe a word of it. It’s all self-serving. I don’t want you deciding once is enough."
She placed her hand flat on his chest, where his heart thundered. "Hamish, I hate to see you suffer. I’m sure I can cope with—"
His large, warm hand covered hers. "I don’t want you merely coping. I want you transported with delight."
A smile curved her lips. "That sounds lovely."
He stared into her eyes as if he plumbed every corner of her soul. "It is. At least it can be."
"Show me." Then she spoke the words she’d never said before. "I want you, Hamish."
Brilliant excitement flared in his features, made his golden beauty blaze like lightning. Her wayward heart upended into a dizzying tumble of trepidation and desire as he swept away the sheet and came down over her. "Then let’s be on our way, lassie."
Chapter 24
Through a turbulent storm of kisses and caresses, Hamish managed to unwrap his kilt. It was a damn sight easier than stripping off his English clothes, thank God. Although he resented even those few seconds, because they stopped him from kissing Emily.
She wanted him. He’d known it when she responded so ardently to his seduction, but hearing her speak the words was a dream fulfilled.