He rubbed his mouth against hers, then let his tongue stroke her lips. This had definitely not been in her dream. The way he teased her, then withdrew, had her clutching his arms to keep him close. Soon, she was mimicking him, touching her tongue to his lip to see how he reacted.
He slid his hands along her arms, drawing her closer. She went willingly until they were chest to chest, and she had to tilt her head to meet his mouth. A rumble rolled through his chest into hers, and when her eyes opened, she found him looking at her with an intensity she’d never seen before.
“You are better than my fantasies about you,” he rasped.
He had fantasized about her? “You are better than my dream,” she admitted.
“The one where I was ripped apart by a vengeant spirit? I should hope so.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. “The earlier part. The good part.”
“Well,” he said, “shall we see if I can keep this on the good side?”
She had no doubt that he could, especially when he pressed his mouth to hers again. His pace was faster this time, more powerful as he teased her lips then snuck inside. She opened for him. How could she not? A thousand wonderful sensations burst through her consciousness as he thrust into her mouth.
She danced with him, tongue to tongue, while her heart raced and her body ached for more.
She tightened her arms, and he let his slide down her body. His hands were large where he cupped her bottom. Hot and big as he pulled her against his groin. She knew about men’s organs. She’d grown up on a farm, after all, but this was his cock pressed hard against her.
She ground against him, feeling her body tighten with need. Their mouths were still fused and her hands gripped his shoulders as if he were her anchor in a strong wind.
Then he broke the kiss. His breath was ragged, as was hers. And he looked at her with a hunger she felt echo through her whole body. Desire pulsed in her and she wanted to ask something. A question burned in her mind or body or heart, but all she could do was look at him. And he at her.
Finally, he dropped his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes as their breath mingled.
“Should I expect a banshee now?” he asked.
What? Oh. Her dream.
“I dinna think they come on command.”
“But in your dream, the banshee came when we kissed.” It wasn’t a question, but she answered it nonetheless.
“Yes.”
He took a deep breath and straightened away from her. She didn’t want to let him go. She loved the feel of him pressedagainst her. His thighs were thick and hard. She’d known the strength of him before, but feeling him against her was thrilling.
Thankfully, he didn’t go far.
“In your dream,” he said, “we were kissing. And more.”
She nodded. Definitely more.
“Then the banshee came screaming things.”
“Traitor. Betrayer.”
“And Sassenach?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I am English.” His head tilted to look at her more closely. “Does that bother you? Do you think you can only marry a Scotsman?”
She did her best not to let her heart trip over the word “marry.” Instead, she focused on his question.
“I have searched in Scotland for a husband, and I have searched here. It matters not to me what you are so long as you will treat me honorably and…”
“And?”
