“They won’t. Mrs. O’Neal is tucked up with the boys and my brothers have gone to the Trading Post but don’t intend to visit Mabel’s side.” He laughed when she frowned and then her eyes widened slightly. “Yes, love, they are going to visit the ladies.”
“Oh. You did not go?” It hurt to even ask him as she was terrified he would say he was.
Iain gave her a disgusted look instead of answering that foolish question. “Nay, I had no inclination to go. Water is getting cool, love, and your skin will get wrinkly.” He stood up, grabbed the other towel she had brought in, and held it up for her.
“You expect me to just stand up?”
“I believe I do.”
Before she could tell him he would be frozen in place before she did that, he grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up to her feet. She grabbed at her towel but he was already wrapping it around her. Then he kissed her and she forgot all about the games he was playing with her.
He carried her to her bed and put her down. Then he shed his clothes. The man had no modesty, she thought, but realized she did not care. He was tall, lean, his muscles firm, his skin taut, and he was a pleasure to look at. Emily watched him tug off his pants and then his drawers. There he was in all his glory and she was annoyed that she still had no name for that part of him that jutted out and gave her pleasure when he put it to use. She was just about to ask him what it was called when he gently sprawled on top of her.
“Iain, my hair is all wet and will ruin my pillow,” she said, trying to think of practical matters before the feel of the man’s body against hers scattered all her wits.
He yanked the pillow out from under her head and tossed it on the floor. “There. Fixed the problem.” He gently undid the towel he had wrapped around her and bent his head to kiss her breasts.
Emily wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as he drove her wild with his kisses and caresses, even the occasional little nip soothed by a stroke of his tongue. She then ran her hands over his back and slowly down until she caressed his backside. When she lightly dragged her fingernails over the taut skin there he moved against her and made her desire rise to a fever pitch.
She shuddered as he kissed his way down to her stomach. It moved his body out of her reach and she ached to touch him. A shock went through her when he kissed her thighs and his soft hair brushed against her. Then she froze, torn between shock and piercing pleasure when his kisses moved to the place between her legs. Emily tried to pull away but his hold on her legs kept her still until she lost all urge to flee his kiss.
He teased her until she felt as if she would come apart then leave her there, on the edge of something, and return to her breast or her legs. Emily thought it pure torment even as it brought her great pleasure. Then he slid a finger inside her even as he tortured her with kisses and she knew this time she would break.
It came over her in a wave, a blinding surge of pleasure, and she cried out, arching off the bed. Even as she still rode that powerful wave, he joined their bodies and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Clinging to him like a person afraid of drowning, Emily felt him pound into her, not minding the ferocity of his movements, and then he clutched at her and held her still as he groaned and shook. When he slipped away from her, he pulled her close and held her tight as they both struggled to catch their breath.
Once they were both calmer she reached down and took hold of the part she was determined to get a name for. “What do you call this?”
“Right now? Happy. If you would just move your hand up and—”
“I am serious. It must have a name. I know the doctors have given everything names.”
“It is called Lancelot.”
Emily just stared at him and then she started to giggle. “No, it is not. I am serious. What is it called?”
He lifted his head and frowned at her. “Ye really dinnae ken?”
“No, I really dinnae ken. Who would tell me? I was just about marriageable age and being prepared for my season during which I would hopefully find a husband. There were very few girls my age about and the adults did not teach us anything. So no, I do not know what this part is called or what my part is called.”
“Your sister told you nothing? She was married and the two of ye shared a house.”
“I asked her and she, well, got hysterical. Also gave me a scold on how I should never ask such things even of a married woman.” Emily shrugged. “So no. I am totally ignorant of these things.”
Iain bit back a groan as she moved her hand over him. “Doctors call it a penis.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, sorry it isn’t more grand. The various euphemisms are much grander.”
“I was just thinking it was such a sorry word for something most men consider very important.” She smiled when he laughed. “I ought to at least know what parts I am, well, dealing with.”
“I have the penis and ye have the vagina.”
“A what? Honestly, that is better than the name they give your part but still not what one would think it should be. Suppose that has to do with all the Latin the doctors love.” She frowned a little. “What do they call what we just did?”
“Fornicating. All the other words I know are really not for your use.”
“That is so like physicians. Take something special and slap a boring name on it.” She frowned when he started laughing. “’Tis true. Well, now I know, but I doubt I will ever use any of those.”
