He stood up and crossed to the warped bit of polished metal on the wall to check. The beard was still there, but shorter. His lips showed. He looked like the same man, just a little sharper.
“At least now, when people are afraid of you, it would not be because you look ghastly.”
He turned back to her, and the candlelight flickered in his eyes. “Do ye like it?” he asked.
The truth came out before she could dress it. “Yes.”
He closed the distance between them in three strides. His hand came up, fingers brushing her jaw, thumb stroking under her chin.
“Good,” he murmured. “Then I will keep it.”
Her pulse jumped in her throat. She did not step away. Instead, she put her palm on his chest. His heart beat slow and steady under her hand.
For a minute, none of them spoke. It felt like all the conversation needed was already had, and the look in his eyes told her he no longer wanted to talk.
Before she could say anything, he bent and kissed her.
His lips were firm and slow, and heat rose under her skin, banishing the tavern from her head. She rose on her tiptoes and caught his shirt, pulling him in. His arm came around her waist, the other hand cupped the back of her neck, and he held her like he had no intention of letting her go.
The razor slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, and he walked her back until her knees met the bed.
28
She opened her mouth, and he took it, his tongue sweeping in. His hands gripped her waist, and she grabbed at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer.
He caught her wrists instead and broke the kiss. “Nay.”
He pushed her down onto the mattress and followed right after. Then he pinned both her wrists above her head with one hand and began to kiss her again, this time slower and deeper. She tried to free her hands, but he held them fast.
“Logan—”
He sealed his lips over hers again, cutting her off. Then he slowly kissed down her jaw and her throat and found the spot where her pulse fluttered and bit down gently.
She gasped, and he did it again.
“Ye did yer part,” he murmured against her skin. “Now it’s me turn.”
His free hand trailed down her body, over her breast, and down her waist. He gathered her gown and lifted it past her thighs. She tried to close her legs, but he wedged his knee between them.
“What? Ye daenae think ye can handle what I am about to do to ye?”
“You cannot just?—”
“Watch me, lass.” He released her wrists before he moved down her body and settled between her legs.
He pushed her thighs apart with his hands. She tried to close them again, but he held them open. Then he lowered his head, his breath warm against her inner thigh. She felt his beard, shorter now that she had trimmed it, tickle her skin.Then his mouth was on her.
She made a sound, almost like she couldn’t help it. Because she truly couldn’t.
He licked once, finding her entrance and circling it with his tongue. She jerked as his hands tightened on her thighs and held her in place.
“Daenae move.”
“I cannot.”
“That wasnae a request.”
He went back to work, finding her bud and sucking on it. She grabbed at his hair, and this time, he let her. His hands remained on her thighs, keeping her spread open for him. The pleasure built fast.
