He thought of nights in the future, that there could be so many more of them like this. Cait was the only woman he felt truly comfortable around. She didn’t pretend. She didn’t put on airs. She didn’t agree with him because that was what she was told to do. Hell, half the time she didn’t agree with him at all and had no problem telling him. She cared about everyone. Jacobite refugees. English soldiers like Halloway. Even her grandfathers who had hurt her so terribly. Although she probably wouldn’t admit to caring for those last two.
The clock struck midnight, startling him. He’d had no idea they’d been sitting here that long.
“I don’t want to go back to my room,” she said softly.
“Then stay here.” Good Lord, but his body was suddenly awake with longing. He’d not even been thinking of making love to her, and now he was on fire with the need. But that probably wasn’t what she meant, and he was the worst sort of cad to be thinking of making love while she was obviously very low.
She stood, and the blanket slipped from her shoulders to fall in a puddle on the floor. The firelight shone through the thin fabric of her dressing gown, outlining her lithe body. Iain swallowed. She held her hand out to him. “Come to bed with me.”
He blinked and could have sworn that this was some ethereal being come to haunt his dreams and not Cait standing before him. Her hair was like the flames of the fire, alight with golds and oranges and deeper reds.
He stood, finding his legs almost unable to hold him. His cock was fully engorged and painful. He’d never had this reaction to a woman, this intense desire that nearly brought him to his knees. He could barely breathe through it and had to clench his teeth against it.
He took her hand and she led him to the bed. They stood facing each other, linked only by their fingers as the fire crackled and popped and lit the room with dancing shadows.
Gently, he took her face between his hands and kissed her softly. She kissed him back, her hands at her sides but her mouth and tongue willing. They kissed for a long time, just their mouths touching and his hands cupping her face. Her skin was warm and soft from the fire, and his thumbs traced lazy circles across her jaw and cheek.
She pulled away and looked him in the eye. “Make love to me.”
He grinned. “Yes, my lady.”
Her eyes lit with a smile that didn’t touch her lips. Slowly, he lowered her to the bed and untied the sash at her waist, pulling the sides away and unwrapping her like the gift she was. He’d seen her naked before, but now he took his time, his gaze roaming her body before he allowed his hands to do the same.
She looked up at him, giving him the time he needed to look at her. Her stomach was flat, her hips narrow. There were shiny white marks on her stomach where the skin had stretched during pregnancy. They only added to her charm and were a reminder that she had lived a life before him, a life completely different from his. Her breasts were neither small nor large, and he thought of the daughter who had suckled them, another reminder that she came to him with memories that he would not be able to touch.
The patch of hair between her legs was a fiery red, much darker and coarser than the hair on her head, the curls springy. She bent her knees, opening herself to him, and he looked at her quickly. Her expression was so serious. They’d made playful love before. They’d made passionate love before. But he felt that tonight was different. This would be a deeper lovemaking, something that was going to touch his soul.
She had freckles almost everywhere. At least everywhere the sun touched. Her neck, her arms. Only the hidden parts of her were devoid of freckles. An interesting phenomenon, as if the sun had kissed her.
“Ye are fully clothed,” she said with a touch of censure.
“Let me rectify that.” He stood and pulled off his waistcoat, then his shirt. It was strangely erotic to have her lie there and watch him, her eyes following his every move.
He stood naked before her and let her gaze wash over him as his had done to her. It was so exciting that his breathing felt labored.
She held out her arms to him. “Come to me.”
Released from the strange paralysis of her gaze, he climbed on top of her and groaned at the feel of her skin against his. He pressed his aching cock into her thigh in the hopes of alleviating some of the pain, but that only intensified it, and he groaned again.
She reached between them and took his cock in her hand, gently squeezing, causing him to gasp and the room to dim.
“Oh, God, yes,” he moaned, his eyes drifting shut as her fingers squeezed and then released. He pumped into her hand, unable to stop himself, but after a moment she stopped and he dropped his head to her shoulder, breathing deeply. If he wasn’t careful, this was going to end before it even began.
He rolled to her side and propped himself up on his elbow to keep temptation at bay. She turned her head to look at him, her expression still serious, but there was an answering need in her eyes.
He fingered the curls at the juncture of her thighs, lightly brushing his hand across them. She opened her legs. He was far past teasing or playing. He took the invitation for what it was and parted her folds to press his finger against the nub inside. She gasped and raised her hips, pushing against his finger. He slid another finger into her passage while moving his thumb across her nub.
Her eyes drifted shut and her hips moved with his finger, slowly at first. He was hard and aching, but he watched her expressions, fascinated. She pressed her palm against the back of his hand, forcing his finger to rub harder as she emitted an approving hum. Her hips thrust upward, forcing his finger deeper inside of her. She moved faster, and a small line formed between her drawn brows.
She began to pant, her hips coming off the bed, causing the bed ropes to squeak in protest. He could only watch in rapt enthrallment as, pressing hard on his hand, she cried out. Instantly, his fingers were wet with her juices and her passageway pulsed around his finger. She lowered her hips and thrust up again, harder this time. Her toes curled, her legs went rigid, and her hips bucked.
When the pulsing slowed, she lazily opened her eyes and smiled at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone. The back of her hand skimmed the head of his penis and he nearly came undone.
Gently, she tugged on his arm and he rolled on top of her, sheathing himself. For a long moment he lay still, luxuriating in the tight, warm feel of her. But then she moved, squeezing her inner muscles.
“Ahhh,” he groaned, his body clenching to stave off his release.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t hold back.”
