“Elsie…” he exhaled against her lips as he broke the kiss, forehead pressed to hers. “If I kiss ye much more, I willnae be able tae stop it from goin’ further. I havenae the strength.”
Her voice trembled with want. “I don’t want you to stop.”
God help him, he dipped his head and took her mouth again, pushing through her welcoming lips with his tongue and exploring her the way she deserved to be explored, fully, completely. He ran his hands along her arms, the burn from the fire replaced by a burning deep within him.
He wanted her more than air. And she was there, beneath him, soft and warm, yielding in all the places he’d imagined but not allowed himself to truly picture. Her breath fanned hot against his, her thigh brushing along the length of his leg, lithe and bare beneath the thin night dress she wore. The feel of her body arching, instinct taking over where experience lacked, nearly undid him.
He shuddered, lowering his forehead to hers again, fighting against every instinct screaming to take her, claim her, keep her.
“Nay Elsie,” he whispered, voice rough and breaking. “I cannae dae this. I willnae ruin ye.”
She swallowed, hurt flickering through her gaze. “You wouldn’t be ruining me.”
He ran a hand down his face as he sat, bring her up with him and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to him.
“I’m meant tae take ye back tae England,” he rasped. “Tae yer sister. I cannae return ye havin’ taken more than I’ve a right tae.”
He leaned down and kissed her again, slow and reverent, then forced himself to pull away. If only she knew how badly he wanted to ruin her. Ruin her in every way. Make it so no other man could have her, see her like that, lips swollen, heart aching.
Lass, if only ye kent how much I want ye…
He broke the kiss, feeling her breathing tremble beside him. For a long while neither of them spoke, but the dark space between them was no longer soft, it was strained.
Elsie shifted beside him, and he felt her body turn inward, like she was gathering her knees and curling into herself. Not away from him, thank God, but he felt her hurt.
He closed his eyes.
Damn it.
“Elsie,” he murmured staring up at the beams above them. “I dinnae mean tae…”
“You don’t have to explain,” she whispered cutting him off.
“Lass…”
“It’s fine,” she said a touch too quickly. “I understand. This… whatever this is between us… it’s only because of the day, and you needed something physical. Now you’ve come to your senses.”
He flinched.
She continued, softly, but painfully honest.
“I know I’m not the woman you would have chosen for your bride. I’m English, your enemy. And you barely know me. I shouldn’t expect more than mere curious attraction or need.”
Her words landed against his chest like a blow.
He turned his head toward her, heart beating painfully against his ribs. She wasn’t crying, no, she would never, but her voice trembled in a way that cut him deeper than any blade.
“Elsie,” he said low and rough, “look at me.”
She hesitated before complying. Her eyes were wide in the darkness, hurt, confused and utterly beautiful.
“What happened between us taenight wasnae just attraction or need.” His voice cracked. “I want ye, God above I want ye badly, but that’s nae th’ whole of it.”
She blinked up at him as he rested a hand on her throat, forcing himself to confide in her a truth he had been doing his best to avoid admitting even to himself.
“I keep telling meself ye’re a duty. A lie tae protect th’ clan. That I’ll hand ye back tae yer king and yer sister when this is done.”
He exhaled shakily. “But ye’ve been here hardly more than a week, an’ already ye’ve got me thinkin’ things I shouldnae be thinkin’.”
