“Wait!” Jane said. Alistair stopped abruptly. Jane walked to him. “I am… I am sorry for how I sounded just now. You had no hand in what transpired between my sister and your brother. I should not have framed my conversation as though you did.”
Alistair nodded, but his expression was impassive.
“Alistair,” Jane continued, a little desperate. “You have been more of a host than a captor, and I thank you for it.”
“There is naething tae be thankful fer, Jane,” Alistair said.
Jane nodded. “And you seem a devoted brother, one who cares deeply about his brother and his affairs. Not many are like that.”
“Thank ye,” Alistair said. Jane told him that he was welcome but did not move out of the way. It seemed that there was still a lot left to say.
“Is there anything more that ye would like me tae ken?” Alistair asked.
“No,” Jane said slowly. “I-” She fiddled with the sleeves of her dress. Alistair had just shown that he was an honorable man. Not many men would want to help a woman in distress, at least not when the stakes were this high. Not when it was this dangerous. And in that moment, the danger of their reality stirred a desperate sort of desire in her. “Alistair, I-” Jane started, but stopped. She had no way of articulating how she was feeling. Alistair pressed a kiss on her lips. and turned to go, but Jane held his arm. “Wait,” she said. “Alistair, I need… I need you.”
His look was tender and a little sad. “Ye dinnae ken what ye are asking fer,” he said.
“I do,” Jane said, her eyes meeting his almost defiantly. “I do.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
There was a nagging feeling in Jane’s subconscious that gnawed at her. She silenced it. She had never done anything spectacularly out of character in her eighteen years of existence. Save things that were insignificant, she had never really given in to any desire that was far removed from the code of morality of the society that she had been born into, of the code of morality that her father had set. She had done her best to be on the right side of things, but she had gotten in trouble regardless.
Now, save reuniting Eleonor with Ramsay, she had no greater desire than to lie with Alistair, to share the same space with him and become one with him. She would think about the rightness or wrongness of it later on.
And so she gave herself fully to the kiss that he pressed upon her lips. She tasted him, held him, clung to him. She felt his hands on the laces of her gown. If she was in her right senses, she might have requested that he be careful, as this was another borrowed dress of Catrina’s. Jane found the dresses that the older woman had loaned her easier to wear than her own clothes. In addition, they were more colorful.
Alistair pulled back and looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Where is yer mind, lass?” The word gave Jane an irrational thrill. “I was thinking about… clothes,” Jane said with an impish smile.
“Clothes? Ye are thinking about clothes while I am kissing ye? Perhaps ye want me tae stop?” He started to pull away, but Jane held on to him. Then, her eyes still on him, she reached for his kilt.
He chuckled. “Indecent thoughts indeed,” he murmured against her lips. “Ye wanted this from the start.” He gently pried her hands away and then undid the kilt himself, so that he stood before her unclad. Curiosity got the best of her and Jane looked down.
The sight that greeted her eyes filled her with shock and worry. She knew of the bare mechanics of copulation, which made this very worrisome indeed.
“It worries ye.” Alistair said into her ear while he pulled down her dress so her breasts were exposed. “It shouldnae. I will be very, very gentle with ye. Dinnae think at all. Only feel.” Jane nodded at Alistair’s reassurance. She knew that he would not hurt her, not intentionally at least. The apprehension she felt at the sight of his member was in no way comparable to the excitement that coursed through her now. She wanted to feel all that there was to feel. And she wanted to feel it with Alistair.
“Ye are bonny, Jane,” Alistair said, his eyes on her breast. “Beautiful.” He bent down and captured one nipple in his mouth. Jane moaned and clutched at his head. Ah, but she had missed this. Alistair pulled down her gown until it was a puddle at her feet. His lips moved to the other breast as he pulled her slip down. And then he carried her to her bed. He kissed a path from her breasts to her belly to the tangle of curls at the apex of her thighs. Jane started. She sat up and tried to push him away, but he would not be budged.
From between her legs, he looked directly into her eyes. Had the setting been different, Jane would have sworn that there was a challenge in his eyes. He then bent over. At the first flick of his tongue, Jane keened. She locked her legs together, so that Alistair was trapped between them, and she clamped her hands over her mouth. As he probed her, she found herself arching more and more off the bed. Alistair covered her with small kisses, reached above to rub her shoulders in assurance, and the resumed his assault on her senses. He licked and sucked, lazily, then faster, then slow again, flicking his tongue, increasing the rhythm until Jane felt her legs spasming and she was gasping. She knew now that she was falling over that edge she had reached last time. Ans once again, when she climaxed, uncontrollable tears streamed from her eyes. She buried her face in his shoulder as he went to embrace her to muffle the sound. He then brought her face to his. His lips were glistening with the moisture of his labors.Hermoisture. The thought was sufficient to drive any woman wild. “Why are ye hiding yer pleasure, me lass?”
Jane thought it was a rhetorical question, but Alistair looked as though he required an actual answer. “The others… in the castle… they’ll hear.”
Alistair chuckled. “They can hear nothing. And if they could, what would it matter? I am told that our attraction is blatant.”
“Oh,” Jane said, surprised “And of course they fault ye fer bedding an English woman.”
He silenced her with a kiss. “Jane,” he said, after he pulled away from her. His fingers insinuated themselves between her legs. He stroked her, and already sensitive from her climax, she felt herself climbing again. She grew out of breath. And through it, he watched her.
“Jane,” he said again, more insistently this time.
“Alistair.”
“When we are taegether, naething else matters. The castle, the matters of state. England, Scotland. Naething. There is ye.” He brought the hand up and sucked on his thumb. This made Jane’s breath catch. He returned the hand and continued the stroking. “And there is me. Dae ye understand?”
“Y-yes.” Jane whispered breathlessly.
“Tell me what I just said then.” His thumb was faster now, and Jane struggled to form words.
