“Look at me, Iris.”
Iris did as he asked, her eyes finding his once more.
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“So that ye know who is aboot tae kiss ye, lass,” he answered right before his lips came down on hers.
10
Iris was kissing James.
Albeit he had started the kiss, but now she had her arms wound around his neck, her lips just as hungry as his was to taste him.
He tasted of ale, the smell of a woodburning fire wafting up from his clothing, and heaven help her, Iris couldn’t get enough.
His lips were softer than she had anticipated them to be, his kissing far gentler than the few she had experienced in her lifetime from brave Scots that never attempted to do so again. Not only that, she felt like she was cherished for once—not as the laird’s daughter or as his warrior, but just plain Iris Wallace.
A lass in her own right.
Tentatively, Iris slipped her hands into his hair, and he groaned against her lips.
“Aye,” he whispered, his own hands moving into her own hair. “Touch me, lass.”
Never had Iris trembled as much as she was trembling right then, but it wasn’t because of fear or the chill in the air.
No, it was because of the feelings that swirled around her, feelings for James that she couldn’t control. She didn’t wantto think about those, not when his lips pressed tightly against hers once more, his tongue tracing the seam. She gasped at the feeling, and James’s tongue swept in.
This wasn’t a kiss she had experienced before!
Not sure what to do exactly, Iris allowed James to guide her, rewarded by a groan or a growl when she stroked his tongue with her own. It wasn’t as horrid as she had thought it to be at all.
James made a sound deep in his throat as his hands left her hair and traveled down her side, his fingers lighting a fire everywhere they touched. Iris wanted him to touch her everywhere, without a stitch of clothing on. She wanted to feel the rough, callused pads of his fingers scraping against her skin to soothe the aches that were suddenly plaguing her body.
She wanted more, oh so much more.
A roughness was suddenly pressed at her back, causing Iris to break the kiss before she realized they had backed into a tree, sending a spray of water falling from its leaves.
“Iris,” James breathed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “Lass, ye undo me.”
Iris wasn’t sure what that meant, but the way he said it had her heart beating just a bit faster in her chest.
“Nay,” she stated, reaching for his neck to pull him back down. “Dinnae talk, James.”
She didn’t allow him to utter a single word as their mouths met again, and this time, Iris took the lead, grinning internally as it was James who gasped this time. She was a quick learner. That and she was acutely aware of his hard body pressed up against hers, the layers of clothing between them doing nothing to hide the fact that he had a warrior’s body under his. She could feel the hardness of his chest, his powerful thighs as he wedged a leg between hers.
This Scot was dangerous, and yet here she was, kissing him like there was no tomorrow on the horizon.
Oh, this was madness!
“Iris!”
Iris broke her mouth from James, her eyes wide. James opened his mouth to protest, but she slapped her hand over it, smothering his words.
Ian. Her brother was nearby!
“Iris, lass! Where are ye?”
James’s eyes widened along with hers, and she shook her head, knowing that if her brother caught her with him, he would demand not only an explanation but likely run James through with his sword. There was no mistaking now that James was their enemy and what clan he served.
