“Then it’s magical, me lady,” Muirin said with a small smile. “Every touch, every kiss … it’s like yer body is on fire, but in a good way. It’s like ye’re sharin’ yer entire bein’ with someone else an’ they share theirs with ye. There’s naethin’ quite like it in the world.”
“So it’s pleasurable?” Elsie asked. “Truly?”
“Aye,” said Muirin. “The best feelin’ in the world.”
For a few moments, silent stretched between them as Elsie thought about it, wondering what it would be like for her to be bedded by Halvard. Then, Muirin leaned closer once more, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“Sometimes, he uses his mouth,” she said. “An’ that, me lady, is even better.”
Elsie’s eyes flew wide. “His mouth?”
Muirin hummed, nodding fervently. “It’s like… bein’ kissed, only down there.”
Choking on thin air, Elsie beat her chest with a fist, trying to regain her composure. Across from her, Muirin devolved into laughter, slapping her knee with a hand.
“You jest,” said Elsie. “You jest and tease me.”
“I dinnae jest,” Muirin promised. “I’m tellin’ ye the truth.”
“Truly?”
Muirin nodded. “O’ course. Like I said, it’s unlike anythin’ in the world. An’ ye can dae it back tae them.”
Elsie’s cheeks burned so bright they rivalled the fire in the hearth. She couldn’t help but imagine it—Halvard laying he on the bed, pushing her legs open after taking all her clothes off,and then kissing her there. But how could she fully imagine it when she had never experienced it? How could she imagine what something like that felt like?
Still, the mere thought had heat coiling in her core, and a part of her wished Halvard was there so she could try it. Foolish as it was, she wanted him; she craved him. It had been a long time since she had last cared about what was and wasn’t proper. It had been a long time since her barriers had come crashing down, leaving her defenseless against him.
“And they enjoy that?” Elsie asked.
“O’ course,” said Muirin. “Why wouldnae they?”
“I don’t know,” said Elsie. “It sounds very strange.”
“I can assure ye it isnae,” said Muirin. “At least once ye are used tae it.”
Elsie could hardly wrap her head around it, but that might have been because of the alcohol. In the end, she decided it was best to not give it much thought. After all, Halvard was still avoiding her, still not giving her what she wanted.
And no matter what she did, she didn’t think he would ever give in to her demands.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“An attack, was it?” Halvard asked as he, Sten, and the rest of their party reached the borderlands. “Well, we either have the wrong place, lads, or somethin’ else is happenin’ here.”
There were no raids, no attacks, no battle. There was a fire, one which seemed to be quickly getting under control, unlike the one he had fought back in the village, but other than that, there was no sign of struggle.
To the south, a pale dawn filtered through a ceiling of cloud, its weak light casting long, blue-gray shadows over the hills. The heather lay flat under a night’s worth of wind, trembling in places where small creatures fled the approach of horses.
There should have been more smoke or shouting or the scent of fires set to crofts. But there was nothing. Only the stirring of cold air and the distant rush of a burn tumbling over stone.
“This is where the messenger said the attack started,” Sten said, shifting in his saddle. “By the standing stones. But it’s quiet as a graveyard.”
Halvard’s fingers tightened along the reins. His horse snorted, stamping frost from the ground, as if unsettled by the silence as well. A grim heaviness settled in Halvard’s chest—a weight that refused to be reasoned away.
Elsie’s face flickered unbidden in his thoughts; her brown hair braided down her back that morning, her soft laugh when he had teased her for worrying over him. The way she had reached for his hand with that lingering touch she thought he didn’t notice.
Stop it. She’s safe.
He was a laird of war-seasoned years; he knew the difference between intuition and unfounded dread. And yet something gnawed at him. A persistent, bitter edge at the back of his ribs.
