Chapter Nine
Ailis stared at Iain as he dropped the bar and faced her.
Was he going to do this? Would they … ? How would they … ?
Her body shuddered at his gruff command, but she quickly moved to his bed. Facing him, she reached for the edge of her gown and tugged it over her head. His breathing grew labored and he clenched and released his fists with every movement she made.
It emboldened her. It heated her blood and made her breasts swell. It … aroused her. She’d not felt anything like this in so long, as though she were alive again. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. It would never be Lachlan again and she must accept that. In that moment, Ailis found herself wanting the touch of this man. The one before her, not the one she had mourned for so long.
With no more delay, she reached down and took off the shift and climbed on his bed. Leaning against the pillows strewn along the headboard, Ailis waited to see how he would do this. He didn’t move for a while. He stood there, staring through that mask of his, watching her settle on top of the bedcovers. Her body readied itself for what she knew was coming.
Then, without a word, he circled the chamber, dousing the fire in the hearth, closing the shutters on the window and extinguishing the candles that threw light around the room. The last one sat on the table next to the bed and she held her breath as he walked to it. He wet his fingers and squeezed out the flame, but as it flickered, she swore she felt that touch on her nipples.
Now, the chamber was in darkness with only a sliver of light creeping in under the bottom of the door. It wasn’t enough to allow her to see him clearly. Then, the unmistakable sounds of him moving away and undressing followed. More desire flowed through her body as she imagined each layer of his garments coming off.
She’d felt his muscular build under her hands when they kissed and now she would feel it against her skin as they … made love. Did the damage she’d felt on his arms extend everywhere? Had he been burned, as she had, to mar his skin in that way? The sounds of his footsteps approaching the bed gave her pause and she stilled, waiting for him to join her. When he didn’t, she slid from the bed and reached out to him.
Her hands met a hard chest. Muscles, defined and strong, quivered under her fingers. Ailis skimmed over his chest and up to his shoulders, noticing that one side, his left side, had more damage than the other. He didn’t stop her exploration, but Ailis thought he would at any moment. Instead, he gathered her hair in his hands and tossed it over her shoulders. It tickled as it fell over her back and hips, the length of it reaching her thighs.
“I have wanted to touch yer hair for a long time,” he whispered, sliding his hands around her shoulders and pulling her body to his.
She gasped at the contact. His skin was hot and his prick was hard against her belly. And, unmarred, it seemed. Then he lifted her chin and took her mouth in a kiss that was both gentle and possessive. Ailis opened to him, feeling the strength of his male flesh as he pressed against her. When she reached out to hold him closer, he startled.
“Lady. …”
“Ailis,” she repeated. “Does it pain ye? If I touch ye there, will it bring ye pain?”
“Nay. I think not.” He didn’t move away or push her hands down, which she took as a good sign.
“Then, may I?” she asked.
Not truly intending to allow him to naysay her, she didn’t wait for his permission. With a light touch, she eased her hands around his back and caressed him there. Wide patches of thickened flesh covered him. Unlike other injuries she’d seen, these were not raised as ridges, but the skin had melted and reformed roughly.
The pain he’d endured must have been tenfold more than hers. She leaned her face to his chest and kissed him there before letting her hands glide over his body, down and up, across and over, trying to please him with her touch. Trying to erase some of the memories of pain and replace them with pleasure. That he remained under her touch brought a smile to her.
He stood there unmoving, breathing in shallow gasps and allowing her to have her way, until he did not. One moment, they stood, her breasts on his chest, her belly against his erect manhood. The next, he lifted her from her feet and carried her to the bed. Then, she was on her back covered by him. The only shock was how good it felt. Her body, aroused and waiting, accepted his and he settled between her thighs before kissing her. And he kissed her again and again. She tried to slide her fingers into his hair to hold him closer, but he stopped her.
“Nay, la … Ailis. Not there,” he said, leaning away.
“Does it pain ye?” she asked. She felt him shake his head. “Then allow me my way in this, Iain. If I canna see ye, I would ken yer body and face through my hands.”
This night would never happen again. He would never happen again. As much as she’d fought the inevitable, Ailis understood what her path must be and it would not include Iain. Hers would be a life of duty and vows. So she would take and savor every moment, every caress and sigh that this night, and this man, offered and remember it across the years.
Without waiting, she reached up and touched his face. Beginning at his jaw, she slid her hands up, feeling every inch of him. Once again, the left side was damaged more than the right. Using the tip of her fingers, she outlined the angles of his cheeks and caressed his forehead. His mouth had been affected the least which is why his kisses never revealed much to her, other than stealing her wits and making her want more.
His face, on one side, bore the brunt of the injury. Sliding her hands to his shoulders she drew him down to kiss her. He relaxed into her, his body easing down and pressing her into the surface of the bedding. His hair fell forward, tickling her face. When she moved her hands into it, Ailis felt the rest of his head and the damage wrought there. She couldn’t help it. She shifted from under him until they lay side by side.
“Yer skin feels like mine … worse though.” Ailis paused before asking the question she truly wanted to ask. “Was it a fire?” she asked, smoothing his hair away from his face and wishing she could see him.
“I dinna remember, but, aye, the brothers said ‘twas that.” His quiet admission gave them another thing in common.
“Ye remember it not? None of it?”
“Only the aftermath,” he said, reaching across the tiny space between them to rest his hand on her hip. “Most of the first months are lost to me.”
“Yer back is the worst then?”
The topic had not quenched the desire in each of them, for his flesh remained hard. He eased her leg up over his waist and opened her to his touch. Almost a challenge to her, continue talking or … pleasure? When he slid her leg along his, she knew the answer. His leg was just as bad. Then he caught her knee and brought it back to his waist. With his large hand around her thigh, he slid his fingers closer to the place between her legs and swirled them on her skin.
