“Aye.” Logan closed the door. “I tried to take it down once, but me hand wouldnae do it. It reminded me ye had stood there, even when the room was empty.”
A wave of warmth settled into her as she turned to him.
“We will have to speak about many things.”
“We will,” he said. “Nae in one night, but we will.”
He shut the door behind them and locked it. She heard the bolt slide into place. He then reached for her and cupped her face in both hands and kissed her.
The kiss was soft at first, then she kissed him back harder and grabbed his shirt. She pulled him closer, and he made a sound in the back of his throat. His hands moved to her waist and then her hips, and pulled her tight against him. She felt how hard he was through his kilt.
He walked her backward until her knees hit the mattress. She sat down, and he stood over her, breathing hard.
“I want to touch you,” she said.
He went still. “Ye have.”
“Properly this time, Logan. No games.”
His throat worked. “Ye daenae have to?—”
“I want to.”
She reached for the ties at his kilt, her fingers shaking. When he didn’t make any effort to stop her, she kept going. He stood there while she loosened the fabric and let it fall. His length sprang free, hard and flushed.
She looked up at him, almost as if asking for permission, but his expression was unreadable. Emma could only attribute it to hesitation. She wrapped her hand around him, and he made a sound she had never heard from him before.
“Christ…”
She stroked him slowly, her fingers slick against him. His hips jerked forward, and she did it again.
“Emma, ye daenae need to?—”
“I want to.”
She slid her hand up and down and found a rhythm. His breathing grew ragged, and he grabbed her shoulder to hold onto something. She looked up at him. His eyes were closed, and his jaw was clenched so tight it looked like his skin would tear.
The sight pushed her to stroke him faster.
“Look at me,” she demanded.
He opened his eyes. They were dark, his pupils blown wide.
“I love you,” she whispered.
He made a choked sound and grabbed her face with both hands. Then he pulled her to her feet, kissing her hard. His hips thrust into her hand, and she felt him getting close.
“Emma—”
His whole body went taut, and his breath caught.
“It is all right.”
He tried to muffle a groan, but failed. His whole body shuddered, and he spilled into her hand. She continued to stroke him until he was gasping and grabbing at her shoulders to stay upright.
A while later, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard. He then found a towel on the washstand and cleaned her hand with it.
She watched him toss it aside and return to her, his eyes still dark with hunger. He pulled at the laces of her gown, and she helped him. In a minute, she was bare and sprawled on the bed.
