His jaw locked. “Aye.”
She pursed her lips together and slowly began to take off her clothes. He could tell by the stiffness of her movements that she was furious. He didn’t blame her. But she’d wanted this, damn it.
Plaid, doublet, shirt, breeches, hose, shoes. One by one they landed in a pile by his feet. His heart pounded faster with every piece.
Finally, she stood before him proud, defiant, and completely, utterly, bewitchingly naked. She arched a taunting brow. “I hope this meets with your approval?”
His mouth went dry. He held himself so still it felt as if he’d turned to stone. God, did it. She was so beautiful. Thinner and more delicate, but every bit as gorgeous as he remembered. Big, round breasts, tiny waist, softly curved hips, and long, lean limbs, with the most flawless ivory skin he’d ever beheld, marred only by the faint bruises that still lingered on her chest and neck.
The flash of anger at the sight of those bruises was swift and hard—he hadn’t forgotten what the jailor had done to her—but it also filled him with a fierce wave of protectiveness. He wanted to pull her into his arms. Cradle her gently against his chest and hold her. Cherish and keep her safe forever.
He’d wanted to show her this was all about lust, but instead the odd mix of strength and vulnerability roused emotions in him that he’d never felt before.
His mouth tightened. He sounded like his cousin, MacSorley. Or MacLeod. Or Campbell. She was confusing him. Turning him into a lovesick fool. Filling him with crazy thoughts of things that were impossible.
Weren’t they?
His eyes went back to hers.
“Your turn,” she said. “If you get to look, so do I.”
He could hear the challenge in her voice: How far was he going to push this?
“You do it,” he said. He’d wanted to meet her challenge, but the huskiness in his voice belied the attempt. The thought of her hands on him…
Christ, he was in over his head.
She moved in front of him, holding her head up like a damned queen. A damnednakedqueen. He sucked in his breath. Her breasts were inches from his face. Her skin looked so soft and creamy, her nipples delicate pink berries just waiting to be plucked. He had to grip the wooden stool not to reach out and touch them.
He hissed when her hand touched his stomach. The muscles jumped. Everything jumped. She took her time with the ties. Exacting her revenge as she tortured him with light, achingly close brushes of her hand and fingers.
Her eyes widened when at last he was free. He felt himself growing even harder under her not-so-innocent stare.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip. For a moment he thought she was going to put her mouth on him.
He gritted his teeth against the reflexive surge. Sweat gathered at his brow. The restraint was killing him. He wouldn’t show her what she did to him. Wouldn’t give her that kind of power over him. But he was fighting a war with himself that he couldn’t win, and they both knew it.
She proved it with what she did next, showing him exactly who was in charge. Taking his challenge and answering it with one of her own. She rested her hands on his shoulders. Shock sizzled through him. His heart hammered in his chest. “Shall I ride you, my lord?”
His heart slammed to a stop, every muscle tensed with anticipation. Then, without waiting for him to answer, she straddled him and slowly lowered herself on him.
Christ. He sucked in his breath, holding her gaze as inch by agonizing inch he penetrated deep into her warm and welcoming body. He could see the pleasure infuse her features, see how much she liked it, and hear the soft gasps of her breath as he filled her.
He put his hands on her hips, gently guiding her deeper.
Oh God, yes.
He forgot all about what he was trying to prove. She moaned, arching her back as he sank in as deep as he could go. He kissed her throat. Her breasts. Circling her nipples with his tongue before sucking them deep into his mouth.
It was hot. So incredibly hot.
She began to move. Riding him as she’d taunted. Lifting over him with slow, erotic little circles of her hips. Looking deep into his eyes the entire time.
It felt as if she were holding him by a string and cinching him closer and closer until the connection between them was so strong it seemed as if they were one.
He groaned, the sensations washing over him in a hot, drenching heat. The way she moved, the long, languid rhythm of her hips moving up and down, and the sultry heat in the stable combined in the most seductive, erotic dance of his life.
She started to go faster. Taking him in and out of her body at a wicked pace as her pleasure intensified, riding him with wild abandon. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.Shewas the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
