A few moments later, her moan turned into a cry of wonderment. “Oh, goodness… Owen… Oh, Owen!”
She did not know when he had pulled aside the collar and neckline of her garments, but he had freed a plump breast from the bindings of the stays beneath. His warm, wet mouth surrounded her eager nipple, sucking on it with a force that threatened to buckle her at the knees. Pleasure exploded inside her abdomen, rippling down into her thighs and up into her chest, where her lungs ceased to function.
Breath stuck in her throat as the beat of her thunderous heart pounded in her ears, matching the shivering pulse that flickered in the very core of her being. She had never known her body could feel such things. Such bliss. Why had no one ever told her?
“Are ye well?” Owen whispered, bringing his mouth to her neck once more, just beneath her ear.
She could do nothing but nod: her body shocked by the wondrous onslaught of sensations it had never known it could create.
“Ye can tell me to stop,” he told her. “I only want to please ye, Lass. I wouldn’ae ever want to hurt ye.”
She dipped her chin to kiss his cheek. “I do not believe you could ever hurt me, nor do I think I will ever tell you to stop.”
His tongue tasted her throat, while his hands grasped hold of her dress. Slowly, he edged the garment up to her chest, where he paused to guide her arms upward. The garment followed until she was free of it altogether. She did not even see where he had thrown it, for she was too captivated by the ferocity of his kiss, as he pressed his lips back to hers.
Utterly immersed in him, she felt no shame or fear in being half naked. Instead, she longed to be entirely unburdened of her earthly constraints.
As she kissed him harder, exploring his mouth with her tongue, she tugged the separate sleeves away from her arms and let them drop. At the same moment, Owen unfastened the ties of her drawers: the flimsy material pooling at her feet.
She did not hesitate to step out of them. “You have changed everything, Owen,” she whispered, staring deeply into his eyes for a moment.
“As ye’ve changed everythin’ for me, Lass,” he replied: his tone husky. It was not quite “I love you,” but to Heather, it did not feel any different. Her heart and mind and body responded to him as though he had said those three words.
With a melting smile, he turned her around, one protective arm moving diagonally across her chest. Her fingertips curled around the powerful forearm that rested across her bosom: his hand grasping her shoulder.
Only a small gap separated her back from his abdomen, but his deft fingertips worked swiftly upon the ribbons of her stays. Soon enough, she shed the last part of her old life and stood naked before him. Safe with his arm around her, she had never felt so brave, so free, so secure.
“Ye’re beautiful, Lass,” Owen purred, kissing his way from the nape of her neck to the first dip of her spine, before his fingertips took their cue.
His tender touch contrasted the roughness of his battle-worn fingertips, crafting a delicious friction that made Heather tingle all over as he caressed down the length of her spine.
“Yer skin is softer than silk, and the shape of ye is makin’ me want to do things I cannae,” he confessed, close to her ear.
Reaching the swell of her backside, his palm stole a sneaky squeeze, bringing an amused smile to her lips.
“It will not be soft if you grab it so,” she scolded playfully, secretly reveling in the boldness of him.
“Och, then I’ll have to divert me attentions elsewhere.” She felt him smile against her shoulder as he placed a kiss there, but anywitty retort she might have had disappeared as his roughened palm smoothed over the peak of her hip.
He pulled her closer to his abdomen, while his hand caressed the slight rise of her stomach. She panted in delicious torment as he edged his touch downward, but nothing could have prepared her for the bliss that was about to be unleashed.
“Tell me what ye like,” he urged. “Tell me what feels good.”
Still oblivious, a strangled cry abandoned her throat as his fingertips found a hidden place, entirely unknown to her, and began to rub slow, tantalizing circles. Every touch lit her up from the inside, igniting blast after blast of forbidden ecstasy.
“That… my goodness, that,” she gasped, arcing against him as he continued those exquisite motions. “Whatisthat?”
His tongue flicked against her neck. “The center of yer pleasure, Lass.”
“Oh my—” Her eyes closed, sinking deeper into the bliss of it all.
Suddenly, Owen swept her up into his arms and carried her over to the bed, leaving her bereft of the powerful pulsing ripples that coursed through her. She could never have suspected that a man’s fingertips could conjure such delirium, and now that she had experienced it, she did not wish to be without it.
She need not have worried, for Owen had other notions to please her.
“Lie back, Lass,” he said softly, as he set her down on the edge of the bed. “Tell me how it feels.”
Obedient in her curiosity, Heather lay back on the soft, feather-stuffed mattress. She waited for Owen to join her there, in some capacity, but he did not. Puzzled, she glanced down, just as he scooped his arms beneath her thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders.
