She hitched her chemise higher as if coaxing him onward. But when he had kissed his way up her leg, she stopped him by planting a hand on top of his head. “Why don’t we both finish ridding ourselves of these clothes before we continue?”
“As ye wish.” He rose and shucked off his surcoat, belt, and boots. When she stood and skimmed her shift off over her head, he nearly dropped back to his knees. Her long, lean, naked glory glowed golden and magnificent in the candlelight.
“Well?” She arched a brow at his tunic and trews, then turned and reached for her wine, giving him a different mouth-watering view.
He stripped off his remaining clothes and pulled her into his arms, sloshing her wine down her front.
“Shame on you! You have spilled my wine.” Delicious teasing dripped from every word of her scolding.
“Forgive me, m’lady.” He scooped her up into his arms, then laid her across the bench. “Allow me to clean ye up.” He hovered over her, hands planted on either side of her head.
She smiled and framed his face with her hands.
He took that as permission to lick away all traces of his clumsiness. The wine’s fruity tartness mixed with the sweet saltiness of her skin made him hungrier. Never would he drink wine again without thinking of this delectable flavor.
“You do that quite well, sir.”
“Sir?” He paused at her naval and lifted his gaze to hers. “I am yer husband, dear one. Never anything less.”
She tickled a toe up the outside of his leg and gave a seductive rubbing of her knee against his flank. “Forgive me,my husband.”
“Nay, m’love. I shall give ye a penance to make ye remember.” He moved lower still, settling between her thighs to ensure he licked away every possible drop of the spilled wine.
“Penance,” she repeated, arching to meet him. Her fingers tangled in his hair. She guided him with a wanton abandon that made him wonder if the penance punished him more than it did her. He ached with the need to take her.
After crying out and clutching him tighter, she gasped, “The floor.”
The floor? Aye. The floor. More room. He gathered her up and lowered her to the floor in front of the bench, thankful that he’d given the housekeeper free rein to lavish the room with every comfort. The heavy weave beneath his knees was much kinder than hardwood. Although, at this point, he would readily kneel in hot coals if it meant he could sheath himself in Evie’s wondrous heat. “I can wait no longer, m’love.”
“Then don’t,” she said, pulling him down on top of her. She arched and shuddered. Welcomed him in with the same hunger burning through him.
“Wife,” he groaned with a hard thrust.
“Husband,” she gasped, matching his every move with her own.
“Ye are mine, Evie,” he rasped, pounding harder. “Mine alone.”
“That goes both ways.” She bucked higher, matching his urgency. “Don’t you ever take me for granted.”
He grabbed her wrists, held them above her head, then ground in deep and halted. “I will never take ye for granted, m’love. I swear it.”
“Convince me,” she dared. “Make me believe it.”
“As ye wish, m’lady.” He obeyed the command until they screamed each other’s names.
*
Sunlight crept acrossthe floor, making it seem as though she watched the minutes of her life slipping away. Sprawled on her side. Feather pillow plumped under her head. She was too exhausted to sleep. Or move. Her arms and legs felt heavy as lead. They had most definitely consummated their vows. So many times, in fact, she had lost count. Never had she experienced such a night. Such…well…words couldn’t describe it. A thoughtful and generous lover, Quinn had given his all and then some.
The weight of his hand resting on her hip triggered a sad smile. She had married the man for protection. Not for love or money. But protection. What would those who knew her in the twenty-first century think of her now?
As he shifted in his sleep and pulled her back against him, a mixture of guilt and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on burned in the center of her chest like a bad case of indigestion. Was she taking advantage of him? Was it bad to use him for protection when he was the one who offered it? She had always taken care of herself before. Never depended on anyone. But now. Here in this time. She had no choice. But was it deceitful?
He hugged her tighter, as if sensing her uncertainty. The gesture increased the guilt settling like a rock in her gut. She liked him. A great deal, in fact. Come to think of it, she liked him better than she had ever liked a man before. Past relationships paled in comparison to this. She’d never met a man quite like Quinn. He said what he thought, whether she wanted to hear it or not. Honest to a fault, the man didn’t con or charm to get his way. He simply charged forward like a bull in a china shop.
“Sleep, m’wee hen,” he said quietly in that deep intoxicating rumble that made her melt.
“How did you know I was awake?”
