A flutter of anticipation rose in her belly. He found her desirable. Loosening his hold of her, he worked her tunic over her head, dropping it to the ground. As he had done earlier, he looked from one breast to the other, but now he ran his tongue over his lips. His eyes met hers.
“Ye have the most lovely breasts I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
He ducked his head and pressed his solid palm against her back, holding her close. He stroked her nipple with his tongue, then gently suckled. Desire like a jolt of lightning shot between her legs. She cradled his head against her and he drew her further into his mouth. His hand passed over the flat of her stomach to the juncture of her legs. Her breath caught. He stroked her with a firm hand. A hand that knew how to pleasure a woman. A hand that knew what she wanted. A hand that knew what she longed for. Wetness pooled.
He returned to her ear, his breath hot. “I want to be inside ye.” He whispered the words as his hands worked their magic. “Ye want it, too.”
Sean jerked away from her. She shivered at the cold air on her exposed body. Her eyes flew open.
“What are ye about?” Their kinsman and Niall’s dearest friend, Lachlann, stood with a knife to Sean’s throat. His green eyes wide as if he’d caught them in the actual act. A minute later and he would have.
Lachlann glanced at Thomasina. “Cover yerself lass!”
She jumped and grabbed up the tunic at her feet to obey. Her entire body heated with embarrassment. Her mouth dropped open but no words came out. After a minute she tried again. “What are ye—what are—where’s Niall?”
“He’s outside, lassie. And ’tis a damn good thing I caught ye rather than him.” Lachlann yanked Sean back, the blade glistening. “Ye’ll have some answering to do.”
Sean held his hands open as if in surrender but said nothing. His eyes were on her. She shivered in response to his lust-filled look. He had a good six inches over Lachlann. She’d swear he allowed Lachlann to hold him. Then again the look on Lachlann’s face was pure rage. He turned them both to face the entrance. She tugged at her tunic wishing it would cover her better.
Niall strode in and stopped abruptly. His friend, Aldred, had been following closely and plowed into his back. A bit shorter, his head received the brunt of it.
“What is amiss here?” Niall pointed to Sean. “Who is this?”
The blond man stopped rubbing his head where he’d smacked into Niall to peer around him. “I’ve never seen him before.”
“Someone I found with yer sister!”
Niall’s thick, red beard did little to hide his outrage as he stomped toward her. “Tommy! What is amiss?”
Her face crumbled and she fell into her brother’s arms. “Oh, Niall. It was awful.”
Sean made a strangled sound behind her.
“Tell me what the bastard has done to ye,” Niall said in a tone as cold as stone.
She jerked away and glanced at Lachlann. Blood dripped from Sean’s neck where the knife had broken his skin. He was going to kill him. “Stop!”
“Stop? Why? Tell us what he did to ye!” Niall’s face suffused with color the same shade as his hair. “He will not be allowed to live if he has touched ye, Tommy.”
Sean didn’t move to defend himself but she felt certain he could. “Lachlann, yer slicing his neck open. Stop!”
The black-haired man smiled at her. “I’ll cut off more than his head if he’s forced himself on ye.”
“Nae! He dinna force himself on me.” She pulled at his arm. Sean’s hand wrapped around her middle as if he stood there on his own without a care. “Release him!”
Niall had his broadsword pointed toward Sean. “Go on, Lachlann, let him go.”
Sean righted himself and dabbed at his neck. His fingers came back covered with his own blood. Although his lips thinned into an angry line, he didn’t speak.
“So what is amiss here?” Lachlann’s irritation apparent in his tone. “I come in here and he has his hand between yer legs, suckling yer breasts—”
Sean jerked out of his clutches and turned about to punch him squarely in the face. Lachlann’s head jerked back at the impact but he remained standing. He covered his face as blood dripped from his lips, oozing between his fingers. “Shite. His fist is like iron.”
“Dunna open yer mouth again,” Sean said.
Lachlann’s eyes widened but he nodded.
Sean turned toward Thomasina. “Are ye well? Should I speak or would ye rather?”
