Aware that her breathing was growing ragged, she broke away and glided across the room. The distance did not mute her in any way.
“It’s me duty to find ye a husband,” he said somberly once he had calmed.
“And where are the husbands ye’ve so dutifully tried to find me this week? Ye’ve thrown out anyone I liked?—”
“So ye like that cunt!”
She realized she didn’t have an answer to that. She knew nothing about Ewen except that he kept excellent hygiene and a deck of cards in his breast pocket. She had not asked about the number of children he wanted, how he felt about a wife who worked, his financials, or his disposition to moving across the Highlands. He had never talked about his family or any living relatives. She did not know about his living situation, whether he shared quarters with an obscene number of relatives or not. Everything she knew was presumed on the basis that he dressed and spoke eloquently. They had never gotten to speak about themselves, always so enamored by each other’s presence that their privacy never came up.
It dawned on her that she knew more about the man standing across from her, down to his taste and his ridged abdomen, than she did a man whose proposal she would accept.
Loath to admit she was wrong, she said, “Aye, I do. He makes me feel like a woman. He makes me feel good.”
Darragh could not speak his mind, as his mind was disposed to ordering her to get on all fours so he could fuck her if she wanted to feel like a woman so badly.
He gritted his teeth. “So ye were just finishing when I came in?”
“Aye!”
White-hot anger rippled through his veins, intensifying as the air around him turned to mist. She had wanted that man, had leaned into him, placed a hand on his chest, let him touch her waist, her knee, and he would have taken advantage of it. His desire had been almost palpable.
“I cannae trust ye around any man anymore.” As he said that, Darragh realized he had also meant himself.
His cock had stirred to life the moment he had walked into the room. He had only seen her at first: the way her breasts strained against her dress, her sylphlike frame, the body that had haunted his dreams for the past four days. And now she was within arm’s reach, and all he wanted to do was ravish her.
He willed himself to walk away, cut their conversation short. The longer he was in her presence, the more he remembered the kiss, the more her scent permeated the air. But his legs moved of their own accord. Each step brought him nearer to her.
He crossed the distance between them until she was backed against a wall, flushed and panting.
“Ye fear they will take advantage of me like ye did? Quite the hypocrite ye are.”
That was it, the acknowledgement that rattled the box of desires he had kept stowed away for years. What happened next, she had no one to blame but herself.
Her pupils were blown as she watched his mouth hover over hers. Her skin burned beneath his touch, and it was like adding fire to an already burning furnace.
He wanted her. He wanted her like a caged man wanted freedom. He wanted her like amadman.
Their mouths hovered like two magnets repelling each other. The push and pull was not in vain; if their lips brushed, he wasn’t sure he would let her go again.
His mouth fell on her jaw, unable to handle the suffocation that would be her mouth. She tilted her head back, offering better access. He labored over it, drinking her in at first.
She tasted sweet and warm, like a fresh tart baked just for him. When she gripped his shirt and raked her hand through his hair, he understood that she wanted more, so he obliged.
The distance from her jaw to her ear was about five kisses, and what it cost him was a fistful of hair. Her grip tightened as he licked her lobe, her throat vibrated beneath his palm, and she squirmed as if to get away. He could not have that.
His hands gripped her hips and anchored her to him, then he decided that wasn’t enough, that he would like to use his hands. So he lifted her and wrapped her legs around him.
He felt the gasp as he had placed his palm against her throat. Her legs wound tightly around him, pulling his hard erection against her. His cock jerked against the fabric.
With his hands free, he grabbed her waist with his right hand and cupped her breast with the other. Her nipples poked through her dress with razor sharpness. He toyed with one, pinching and twisting it, and she trembled beneath him.
His tongue traced the curve of her neck, right to the crevice where her clavicles met her ribs. She sagged against him, and he opened his eyes.
She was moving against him, taking her own pleasure. It sent a thrill through him to see her using him. He wanted to be used.
He pressed her back against the wall and held her so her core rocked against his cock. Her eyes fluttered open just a little, and a mutual understanding passed between them. She did not look at him again, and her hips started rocking.
His hand, still on her breast, slid up to her throat. Her lip glistened, and he swiped his thumb over the wetness. His heart flipped as her tongue darted out and licked the tip of his finger.
