Then he kissed her, their lips crashing together with more desperation than skill, and heat flared in Paisley's chest.
She wrapped her arms around Dominic's broad shoulders, conscious of a thrill at the feel of his muscles bunching and stretching under her palms. She plucked at the material of his shirt, and he abruptly pulled back.
Before Paisley could complain at the loss of his lips and body, Dominic pulled the shirt unceremoniously over his head, revealing smooth, bare skin. There was a bandage around his ribs, where the tip of Lord Ainsley's sword had sliced at his skin, matching the hairline cut on his left cheekbone.
She barely had time to catalogue his injuries before she found herself swept off her feet and marched across the room and deposited onto the bed.
"Oof," Paisley gasped, sinking into the impossibly soft layers of feather mattresses and quilts.
The bed was a broad, comfortable one, made dark and warm by the layers of velvet curtains draped around it. Paisley reached a tentative hand up to the strings of her bodice, not entirely sure whether she was ready to take the step of baring herself just yet.
Then Dominic was there, large hands folding carefully over hers.
"Are ye all right, lassie?" he murmured, his face soft in the gloom. "Do ye need to stop? I can wait until we're married, if ye prefer. Or if ye never..."
"Will it be like what we did before?" Paisley blurted out. "That... that was very nice, but I'm afraid I don't have any sort of experience."
He chuckled. "That's all right. I'm selfish enough to rather ye figured it all out with me." he teased, his eyes soft.
"It'll hurt, won't it?"
Dominic stopped laughing and frowned. "Hurt? Why would it hurt?"
Paisley knew she was blushing. She shifted on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows.
"Well, I heard that for women, for the first time, it hurts. And there's blood."
Dominic pursed his lips. "Sounds like it's nae being done right. There'll be nae blood, and nae pain, I promise ye that. I'll dae naething ye daenae want to, lassie."
Paisley tilted her head, considering. The ache was still there, pulsing in her gut and making that place between her legs tingle expectantly.
So this is what it's like towantsomebody,she thought dizzily.The poets were right. How about that?
"Why don't you kiss me, then?" Paisley said. She'd intended it to sound light and breezy, but her voice came out hoarse and breathless instead.
Dominic crossed the space between them in an instant, fitting his lips to hers, and heat surged joyfully through Paisley's body.
Everything was a blur – Dominic's fingers tugging at her bodice strings, the shiver of bare skin exposed to the cool air. Then he covered her with his body, hands sliding up the creamy skin of her thighs. Paisley heard a ragged sort of sigh and was a little surprised to realize that it had come from her. He touched her, as he had before, and she found herself riding the dizzying high of bliss once again.
But that wasn't all of it. Dominic pulled back, his eyes hot and dark in the darkness, and Paisley felt the heat spread over her once again.
"Ye are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen," he said hoarsely.
Paisley smiled, feeling her skin break out in goosebumps.
"Well, it isquitedark in here."
He chuckled, diving down to kiss her. "Ye and yer wretched sharp tongue."
"I think you like my sharp tongue."
"I certainly dae," Dominic murmured, the rough scratch of his stubble pressing against her neck.
He slipped the length of him inside her, as carefully and slowly as necessary, letting her take a breath and adjust to the new sensation. He moved slowly, eyes carefully fixed on Paisley, until her breath came hard and labored, fingers digging into his shoulders. She closed her eyes, every sensation seeming to spark across her flesh, lasting for an eternity.
She felt his hands slide down her ribs, curving around her stomach then up towards her breasts, fingers leaving trails of pinprick fire in their wake. She felt as though she couldn't breathe, and Dominic seemed to be feeling the same. She could hear him growling under his breath, lips sliding against the sensitive skin of her throat, stubble grazing. Paisley bit her lip hard enough to taste copper, raking her fingertips down the muscled planes of his back, trying to urge him on faster, deeper, wantingmoreeven though she wasn't entirely sure whatmoreshe wanted, until she got it.
They reached their peaks at the same time, gasping each other's name, breathless and giddy, and collapsed into sweaty, sticky piles, tangled up in the creased sheets.
