At that, Alistair burst into laughter. “Truly?”
“Yes. Your eyes might have undressed me several times over if they could.” She sighed and nestled in his embrace. Her mind went back to the witch’s cottage. It was as though she was hearing the witch’s voice anew.
“Jane?”
“Yes, Alistair?”
“If things work in our favor tomorrow and ye are freed of yer vow tae Commander Pierce, will ye return tae England?”
Jane sighed. “That depends on whether ye have a better plan,” she responded.
A small silence followed, and in that moment, Jane knew that she had hurt him to some degree. She was about to apologize, but he cut her short. “I have a plan,” Alistair said, “fer tonight. Would ye like tae hear it?” His voice was gruff and tinged with arousal.
“Yes,” Jane said.
Alistair turned and lifted her up, and then made her settle in his lap, facing him, her legs spread over his. “Perhaps it would be better tae show ye instead,” he said. Slowly and methodically, he undid the laces at the front of her dress. After that, he freed her breasts from their restraints, so she sat bare-chested in his embrace. The soft night wind blew over her nipples and made them hard. Goosebumps appeared on her skin.
Alistair bent to kiss her breasts in turn. He suckled at them, the sounds of wet flesh erotic in the still night. Jane felt herself arch off Alistair, and she clung to his shoulders for balance. His mouth released her right breast with a pop.
“Jane, sweetling,” he crooned.
“Yes, Alistair?”
“Ride me.”
Her eyes, which were hooded before, flew open. His eyes fixed on hers, Alistair raised her skirts all the way up to her waist. She felt the cool breeze on her bare skin. Still looking at her, he undid his kilt so that he sprang free between them. She had seen him just that morning, and yet the sight still evoked a dark kind of awe in her. Carefully, he pulled he on top of him. He positioned himself at her entrance, and slowly pulled her down over his manhood. He watched her face for signs of discomfort. She winced, but when he made a move to withdraw, she clamped down on him. Tight. “It has passed,” she assured him, although she did feel a little odd in that position. She had never known that a woman could be on top. Copulation between animals always had the male on top, dominating. From this angle, it felt as though it was she who should guide their rhythm, a scary thought for one as inexperienced at her. However, the fact that Alistair was willing to introduce her to new things created an excitement that trumped her apprehension.
When Jane was fully seated on him, Alistair stared at her, a challenge in his eyes. Jane seemed to flounder, at first. Alistair held her in place. He bit at her right breast and then her left. “I told ye what tae dae, sweetling.”
Jane started to move up and down. Slowly, at first, her movements more circular than vertical. Alistair guided her with his hands on her behind. Soon, she was in fact riding him, her hands on his shoulders for support, her breath choppy. Alistair rose, carrying her with him, their bodies still connected. He set her down on a quilt and began to thrust into her. She clutched at his shoulders. Her legs locked behind his back. She moaned in utter satisfaction.
“Dae ye want tae leave me, Jane?” he asked as he stroked into her, his voice gruff, a sweet poison in her ear. “Dae ye want tae leave this?”
Jane turned her head away, but Alistair swiftly turned it back toward himself. He bit her ear and she yelped. He took her earlobe between his lips and tugged at it. A cry escaped Jane’s throat. She clutched his shoulders tighter.
“Answer me,” he prodded in her ear. “Answer me, Jane.”
“No,” she shrieked. “I swear, no, Alistair, please. Please.” She did not know what she was begging for, but he did. He increased his pace. Jane’s cries of pleasure were loud. When she reached her peak, she drew Alistair’s head down and kissed him to muffle the sound of her moans. He held her tight and continued to plow into her. Right before his climax, he disengaged from her and turned away, his muscles in taut ribbons of pleasure.
When he returned to her, she clung to him. “I wish ye would stay with me tae the end,” she whispered into his neck.
Still breathing hard, Alistair chuckled. “I wish that, too.”
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Jane and Alistair could see the castle from where they were. It was a dull grey, covered by moss. Its steeple was topped by a rusty staff. Jane and Alistair were in the bushes. His horse was tethered to a tree a short distance behind.
“I wish I could follow ye right up into that damn castle,” Alistair said.
“I know,” Jane replied. “But it would ruin the plan. I will be fine, I promise, Alistair.” She kissed his cheek. “I need to look like I have just escaped captivity in truth. Hand me your knife.” Alistair obliged.
“This is just a knife? It is so heavy!” Jane gasped.
Alistair took the knife back and bent over her dress. He pointed to a spot and she nodded. Alistair ran the knife through and tore a piece out of it. He did not throw it away, but tucked it in the waistline of his kilt.
“And here,” Jane directed. Alistair tore that bit, too. Jane then tousled her hair. For good measure, she bent down and picked up a few leaves and some twigs. She winced and then put them in her hair. “Convincing enough?” she asked Alistair. He nodded. She noticed his moroseness and touched his cheek. “It will all go to plan, Alistair. Do not fret for my safety.”
He turned his head to kiss her palm, and then kissed her on the lips. “Go.”
