Blair did not have to be asked twice. She scuttled over to where Slaine lay and edged herself next to him, making herself comfortable. Together, they watched the fire flames lick the log and rise higher. It gave out the occasional crackle, sending sparks flying into the night sky.
Slaine had his arms wrapped around her waist, and Blair pushed her hips back so they fit nicely inside the space provided by his protectively bent legs and arms.
“We’re as tightly knit together as two spoons in a silverware tray,” Blair giggled.
She relaxed and let her senses take her where they wanted. She could feel his breath, slow and steady, ruffling her hair. His arms were heavy enough to weigh her down and pull her toward him, but she did not feel trapped; in fact, quite the opposite. Blair felt free, as though her life had become buoyant with possibilities.
Slaine shifted his body now and then, and she would hear his leather coat creak as the material rubbed together. A warm glow had spread from her torso to her limbs, flooding her with an indescribable heat. The gentle flush seemed to pulse in parts of her body she had never had much time to pay attention to before. It seemed as though her breasts wanted to burst out from underneath their layers of clothing and present them to his hands for caressing. The tips blazed as though the flames from the fire had somehow managed to enter her chest.
Blair was still rational enough to know she was lying with Slaine the way a wife would lie with her husband in bed; she was brought up on a farm and understood the mechanics of copulation. But her comprehension of how a male animal covered a female animal had told her nothing about the hidden layers before the act occurred between a man and a woman.
From being so cold to feeling so heated, Blair could not hide from the fact it had nothing to do with Slaine’s blankets and everything to do with his arms and breath and closeness. It made her want to wriggle and press against him. No, better yet, she wanted to turn around and face him and touch his body with her hands.
So focused on her blossoming ardor, Blair had not felt Slaine himself awake. When he shifted away from her to lie on his back instead, removing his arms from around her waist and placing them behind himself to prop up his neck, she finally twisted around.
“Are ye hot...uncomfortable?” she asked as she snuggled into his side, wrapping one arm under his waist and placing the other on top of his hard stomach. Her head fitted perfectly between the muscles on his shoulder and chest.
“Hm,” was all he said as a reply.
Undaunted by his taciturn response, Blair lifted her head and slid further up so she faced him. For a moment, she took a lot of satisfaction from watching his resolutely closed eyelids, the thick, dark lashes flickering in an attempt not to open and return her gaze, the dark eyebrows drawn together but not scowling. At such close range, she was able to observe the curve of his cheekbones, manly mouth, and strong jawline.
She lifted up her hand and stroked his beard, tracing her fingers over his lips and pushing back the bristles from his mouth. Then she bent her head and kissed him.
Slaine responded in a way Blair had always dreamed a man would if she kissed him; he tossed her over so he could lay above her and crushed her in a passionate embrace. It was overwhelming and satisfying at the same time. She could feel his heart beating hard and strong against her own, his massive muscles rigid and firm wherever they pressed against her soft skin. Blair had not felt like swooning during her encounter with the bandits, but her head seemed to spin as Slaine kissed her deeply and intensely, moving his lips down to her neck and lingering on the sweeping bones under her collar.
His warm hands slid up under her skirts, feeling their way above her stockings, and stroked her inner thighs.
“Wait, wait,” Blair said huskily, and tried to rip her riding coat and skirt off so he could reach all the places where she wanted—needed—to feel his hot kisses.
It broke the spell.
Slaine groaned and twisted away to lie on his back again.
“Dinnae stop! I want this so badly. Please…” Blair panted.
If someone had told Blair a week ago that she would be begging a man she had only known a few days to rip off her clothes and take her roughly on the ground outside, she would have thought they were raving mad. Now, Blair believed she truly would go mad if Slaine stopped!
“Ye’re in me care, Blair, and it would be wrong of me to take advantage of that. Besides, ye’repayin’me. There are so many reasons why we cannae continue on this path, believe me!” Slaine uttered the words as though they physically hurt him.
Blair had been too caught up in her emotions to see things clearly. However, his words were enough to make her pause and then muster all the discipline she had to damp down the fire that raged within her. She was not ashamed or afraid of what she had wanted him to do to her. In fact, when she looked at Slaine now, lying with his elbows draped over his eyes to block out the sight of her, she would think it strange if she had not wanted him to do it.
She stopped because the logic of what Slaine said made sense. It was his nobility of character that she had sensed from the moment they first met. He was an honorable man, a warrior of great prowess, and a good person. He was her hero. Knowing this did not make Blair desire him any less, but what he had said served its purpose in making her postpone it.
“I promise nae to do anything, Slaine,” Blair said with a practical tone in her voice. “Come and lie beside me again.”
He hesitated and then moved closer. Blair sat up and covered them both with the blankets. Before lying back down beside him, she lifted his arm up with a small grunt and laid herself down within its curve. She made sure not to snuggle in too close.
They lay together for a while, staring up at the stars and watching the smoke from the fire curl up toward the moon.
“I ride from town to town, lookin’ for trouble to sort out and people who need muscle for hire, Blair,” Slaine said eventually, unwilling to drift off to sleep without trying to warn her away from him. “I kill and maim for gold, lass—hardly someone whom a lovely lady such as yerself would want to stay with.”
“Hush,” was all she said in reply to his protests and patted his chest soothingly. Slaine, comforted by this good advice, kept his silence.
Owls hooted and swooped to catch furtive forest creatures. The horses stamped and snored into their nosebags. Blair slept peacefully in Slaine’s arms.
12
Croachy at Last
