“Ye’re lovely,” he whispered, his large hand covering one of her breasts that were suddenly heavy to her. “I want tae touch ye all over.”
When his other hand slid up her leg, Irvine covered his mouth with hers, his fingers dancing along her bare thigh. The heat in Bridget’s body started to build, and she wanted nothing more than to feel the sweet release that she knew only Irvine could provide.
His lips moved down her jawline, and she gasped as he covered the stiff peak at the same time that his fingers brushed over the slit in her drawers.
“Already wet,” he murmured.
Bridget let out a cry at the intimate touch, feeling Irvine’s fingers touching her bare folds instead.
“Wot are ye doing?” she gasped, her stomach coiling.
“I’m pleasuring ye,” he told her, meeting her lips once more. Bridget felt the desperation in his kiss, but there was something more, something that matched the building pressure in her lower half, all caused by the pressure of his fingers on her nether region.
Soon she was arching to his touch, begging him to continue as her body prepared for something she didn’t understand. His mouth was doing wicked things to her breasts, his tongue tracing the stiff, sensitive peaks and his finger—oh dear heavens, he was inside her!
Bridget let out a muffled cry as the world exploded around her, her body releasing the wonderous pressure that she didn’t know she was capable of having. Irvine groaned and pressed his forehead into her stomach as she cried out his name, her body quivering around his finger.
It wasn’t until she had quit shivering that Irvine rose from the floor and slid next to her on the narrow bed, wrapping her against his chest.
“Wot was that?” she asked, burying her face into his tunic so he couldn’t see her burning cheeks. She had no idea what had just happened, but it was wonderous, and she wanted him to do it again.
“That was yer first taste of pleasure, lass,” he told her, brushing his lips over her temple. “And there is much more tae teach ye, but that’s enough for tonight. A man has his limits.”
Bridget didn’t say anything as they lay there, her heart hammering in tune with his. Idly, she wondered if something like that could happen to him, if she could make him feel as wonderful as she felt right now, but the words wouldn’t form on her tongue. Perhaps another time she could ask, maybe after he was named laird.
What would happen if he were named laird? Would he ask her to stay at the castle?
Would she want to? Bridget didn’t know what she would want to do, but after tonight, after Irvine saving the farm and pledging to help and not lord over them, she wanted to be with him.
She didn’t want to lose him again.
Yawning, Bridget snuggled up to his chest, feeling his arms tighten around her in response. Tomorrow they would figure out what the next steps were into freeing her father and protecting the farm but tonight, she only wished to remain in his arms like she was and forget that they were supposed to be enemies.
Irvine wasn’t her enemy. He never had been, no matter who his family was.
He was her future, and Bridget hoped she could figure out how she fit in his.
19
Irvine woke first the next morning, groaning as he felt something soft and warm press up against his chest.
Something that felt like a lass.
His manhood pressed against his breeks painfully as he opened his eyes and realized that Bridget was still in the narrow bed with him, her head resting against his chest.
She had slept here in the hut with him all night.
Irvine drew in a slow breath. There was no concern of her innocence, of course. He hadn’t taken anything but her first taste of pleasure by a man, and that made his pride swell. He doubted that anyone would be questioning her reputation either, especially after what had happened to the farm.
Their leader had been taken, some of their fellow tenants killed, and the farm was in disarray.
Those remaining, however, had agreed to provide revenue to Irvine if he could leverage himself against his great-uncle and take over the lairdship.
He couldn’t fail them as well. He had failed his clan by not coming back a victor and thrust them to be under his great-uncle’s reign, but it was time for him to go back and set everything right.
It was time for him to become the man that his great-aunt Edna knew he could be, that his family wanted him to be.
Carefully, he eased himself away from Bridget’s sleeping form and stood, finding Malcolm eyeing him from his bed.
