“Nae, lass, let me look at you for a moment. Please.”
She kept the blanket wrinkled in her fist, but left the bulk of it draped over her hip. Her eyes studied the edge of the ticking where MacKerrick’s tunic was illuminated against the dark shadow of his thigh by the firelight behind him.
After what seemed an eternity, neither of them moving, MacKerrick’s hands went to his belt. Evelyn felt her stomach knot as he loosened the thick brown leather and let it fall away, his tunic sagging over his hips. She felt a hitch in her throat and swallowed it down. She wanted this finality, this consummation, but her fear paralyzed her. Was it only moments ago she had been wanting of MacKerrick, breathless with thoughts of his touch, his possession of her? Now ’twas only terror that held her tighter than any lover. She could not draw a full breath and her eyes ached with unshed tears.
Then MacKerrick’s tunic rose up over hairy thighs and Evelyn heard the whisper of it as it, too, fell to the floor. Her gaze flicked to his manhood, fully erect and aimed at her as surely as an arrow. It was long and dusky and somehow ominous looking, its intent clear. A weapon. A nightmare waiting.
The breathy sob came out of nowhere, startling her, and she brought her hand to her mouth to stifle it.
She felt MacKerrick’s sudden alarm as he climbed onto the bed and tried to gather her rigid body to his.
“Eve, Eve,” he crooned. “Shh—doona fear me so, I canna stand it.” He stroked her hair, still wet and fragrant with the oil.
She felt another jagged bubble lodge in her throat and fought it back down. Her arms were crossed in front of her breasts again, denying him full contact with her body, and yet she felt his warmth. Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around MacKerrick’s lean waist and sob out her fear, wanted his arms about her as well, comforting her.
But that wasn’t what MacKerrick wanted, and Evelyn knew she owed him this marriage rite. She wanted it over with.
“Are you ready to mount me now?” she asked into his chest, and she could hear the brittle tension in her own voice.
MacKerrick was still for a moment. “I am,” he admitted quietly.
Evelyn pushed away from him to lie on her back, her eyes squeezed shut. “All right.” She swallowed. “I’m ready.”
He had the audacity to laugh at her. Evelyn’s eyes snapped open and she turned her head to look at him. The highlander was smiling as he scooted closer to her side. She flinched when he brought a wide palm to her face.
“’Tis nae punishment to brace yourself against, Eve,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’d have you enjoy it as much as I.”
“Well, I’ll not, sir, so do what you must.” She turned her head away to stare at the box bed’s wooden canopy once more. She swallowed again, gathering her courage into the center of her body. “Shall I…shall I spread my legs?”
MacKerrick chuckled again and Evelyn’s face burned.
“Ah, lass, you are a wonder,” he breathed, his smile louder than his words.
“You’ll wonder where I went do you not get on with it,” she snapped. “I’ll not lie here forever, MacKerrick. I’m still cold, never mind hungry, and—”
His mouth cut off her shrill lecture, his lips hard on hers at first, pressing against her teeth painfully. After a moment, though, they softened and opened to caress her mouth. His lips pulled at hers once, twice, then he looked down into her eyes. He still appeared rather amused, but the amber fire in his gaze sparkled with obvious desire.
“Very well, Eve. I’d nae have you runnin’ off on those fine legs of yours,” he said solemnly and then the smile dropped from his face, replaced by an intensity that resuscitated Eve’s fear. “Spread them for me.”
Evelyn commanded her thighs to move away from each other and one knee at last twitched, bumping into MacKerrick’s lean, hard thigh.
“Will that do?”
“For now,” MacKerrick said.
His hand slid from her face to her collarbone and his fingers danced over the ridge of her shoulder, pushing her arms away. When his palm cupped her breast, Evelyn caught her breath against the prickling sensation of her nipple.
“Shh…relax,” MacKerrick whispered as he lowered his head. He rubbed his lips against her other nipple and the stinging sensation struck her again. She released her held breath with a whoosh when his hot mouth opened over her breast, his other palm stroking gentle circles over her raised peak as he sucked.
Evelyn felt a spasming deep in her abdomen, persistent and terrifying and oddly pleasurable. She continued to stare at the box bed’s ceiling as MacKerrick licked her with a flat tongue and she could see the crown of his head weaving in time to the sensations she felt. Her sigh betrayed her rigid throat, surprising her, embarrassing her.
“That’s right,” MacKerrick whispered against her wet skin, bringing gooseflesh over her body. “Enjoy it—naught to fear, Eve. My Eve…” His mouth claimed her nipple again and the hand over her breast slipped down over her ribs to flutter at her navel.
Evelyn swallowed, trying to ignore her body’s traitorous response. Her mind was still terrified, but her flesh…oh, ’twas weak! She didn’t want MacKerrick’s touch to arouse her, to bring her pleasure. Not when it might mean her death. But she was steadily losing control of herself as MacKerrick’s hand trailed even lower, massaging the hollow of her abdomen between her hips, soothing the throbbing there, and at the same time, stirring it.
“I don’t want to do this, MacKerrick,” she choked out.
He did not pull away, but continued suckling her leisurely, as if he pulled mead from the mouth of a jug. “Why?” he asked, then licked the curve of her breast, pushed his fingertips into the curly hair between her legs.
