The quick inhale of a breath followed by sounds of her shifting came sometime later and he thought she might wake. He’d lit some lamps around the cabin and had a lantern on the table once the sun set and waited for her to open her lovely green eyes. From her wary glances at him since her arrival, he could tell that she had expected him to pounce when their day or night came, but theironcehad released all the rage to have her and so he waited. The rage had eased, though not the need or the want. Iain suspected that watching her surprise over his choice of this day’s plans would be pleasure in another form—and it had been.
Her smile. Her wide-eyed surprise and appreciation for the views from the ship of the city and places she’d only seen from land. The blush that the sea air and winds brought to her cheeks. The way she gave herself over to him while standing at the railing, leaning into him for support.
He’d also surprised her by revealing more about himself and his past. Most men of business who fought to build their way up leave behind the less seemly connections—and he certainly did that for many of his—but he’d never been able to get the sea out of his blood. Those early years when he was on a ship were some of the best times of his life. Breathing air unspoiled by the smoke of wood and coal burning was like heaven to him.
Oh, it was hard work—some of the hardest he’d ever done—but he had learned about himself, his ambitions, his goals and his determination to have what he wanted. He’d learned of cruelty there, but having survived nigh-to-dying already, Iain also learned how to live through it.
“Iain?” Her whisper sent shards of need through him. “What time is it?” She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked around, staring the longest at the night sky out of the windows behind her. Some of her hair had come loose and tumbled over her shoulders. “Oh.” Her expression as she faced him was inscrutable.
“You looked so peaceful that I could not bear to wake you.”
“I think the excitement of the morning exhausted me,” she said, sliding her feet to the floor and smoothing her gown over her legs. He could not see her ankles now. “We are not moving?”
“Nay. We are anchored just off Berwick-on-Tweed.” He slid off the bed and approached her. “Captain Ramsey and most of the crew have sought the comforts of the town and will not return until the morning.”
“Oh.” Again that one word with too many meanings for his liking. Not when he could not read her face. Was she anxious? Or fearful? Apprehensive about the coming night between them?
Or had she changed her mind?
He had never expected her to carry through with this agreement, her body in exchange for his information. From the fiery lust that sparked to life between them, he’d half thought she would have come to him on her own. But that inkling of hope was doused when she did not return the envelope.
“Have you changed your mind then?” He stepped back. “Would you like me to go?”
“Nay.”
They stood staring at each other for moments that seem to stretch on for hours. He was waiting. Waiting for her to move. To welcome him. To want him.
All it took in the end was for her to lift her hand and hold it out to him.
Iain took it and tugged her towards him, slowly, his need to touch her and taste her growing with every second. But this time, this time, he wanted to savor her and not rush through to satisfy his rampant desire. Raising her hand to his mouth, he kissed each fingertip and then kissed a line along her arm, pushing the fabric of her sleeve up.
When he could reach no more of her skin, he moved around behind and kissed along the back of her neck until he found the very spot he’d wanted to mark from the night when they made their agreement. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and he suckled the tender spot at the base of her throat. She shuddered under his mouth and let out gasps in time with every stroke of his tongue and as the edges of his teeth worried against the delicate skin caught between them.
Lady Clare Logan would wear his mark on her skin and know he had done it. A tremor shook his body and his cock hardened more.
As her body fell back against his, catching his very hard flesh between her hips and his, he caressed his way up her—his hands gliding over her belly and cupping her breasts. Her nipples had already tightened into buds, so he rubbed his thumbs across them, making them swell and her moan and press into his grasp. Tempted as he was to make short work of her clothes and repeat the rushed way he had her that first time, he would not.
“Please,” she whispered.
“What do you want, Clare?” He knew she liked his kisses on her breasts. He liked kissing them and her. She reached back and slid her hand in his hair and pulled him down.
“Your mouth on me, Iain. Now. I can wait no longer.” His cock reacted to that—every word, the strong tone of it, her voice caused his erection to strengthen.
“As you wish, my lady.” Iain released her and untied the laces on the back of her dress. Once it was loosened enough, he pushed it off her shoulders and down until her breasts were open to his sight.
Now he could use his tongue to trace her collarbones and he did, tasting the saltiness left on her skin by the wind whipping up from the waves. She’d not worn one of those fichu scarves with this dress, so there’d been nothing to protect her skin from the spray. By the time he was in front of her, she was clutching onto the loose, long shirt he wore over breeches.
He’d not taken the time to dress in his usual daywear for he’d not wanted to wake her by searching through the chest for clean ones. Between his still-damp hair, unkempt and loose around his neck, the open shirt and casual breeches, he was not suitable for company. But as she grabbed hold of the shirt, he did not care. Iain eased down in front of her onto his knees, holding onto her hips as he did, and untied the short stays she preferred. The soft whoosh of the garments dropping to the floor filled the space around them.
Iain pulled her closer and took one breast in his mouth as she’d asked. This time, he met her gaze and she watched as he licked and suckled it, her eyes widening every time he drew it into his mouth and used his teeth on the tip. When he eased back, she slid her hands into his hair and held him there.
“More.”
Her head fell back and she gasped as he gave her what she wanted. One and then the other until her knees buckled and she fell against him. He slid his arms around her to hold her steady and did not cease until she cried out, arching against his mouth and thrusting her hips against him until she collapsed.
Iain just remained in that position, holding her tightly until she came back to herself. Deciding to carry her to the bed, Iain was stopped by her hands on his shoulders. Clare reached past his shoulders and gathered the length of his shirt in her hands. Then she pulled on it. Iain raised his arms to allow her to remove it. His naked skin against her softness threatened his control.
He stood, sliding his skin over hers, relishing the feel of her breasts as he regained his feet. Then he lifted her out of the puddle of clothing at her feet and carried her to the bed. She settled with her head on a pillow as he reached for the laces holding the breeches up and him in. He thought she might be holding her breath and then realized she’d not seen him naked or even seen his cock before.
