Reade’s head spun, but he had to pull away lest he lose control and break his promise not to take her until she wanted him.
But it surefeltlike she wanted him.
Her fingers curled into his chest as he deepened the kiss, dipping his tongue farther, before whipping his head away.
Blair looked up at him with parted lips, her breasts pushing against his as they panted in unison. Her blue eyes had darkened, like a loch in a storm, and they stood like that, entwined but not kissing for several breaths.
“No further,” he rasped as he held her. He might have stopped the kiss, but for the life of him, he couldn’t make his arms release her. Not with his cock pulsing hard enough that he thought he’d explode. “No more until ye tell me ye want me.”
Her parted lips quivered, then closed. Her body might want him —Christ’s blood,it felt like her body wanted him; however, like Reade, she wasn’t ready to accept him, accept their marriage, accept her fate. Not yet.
After this night and this kiss, he was certain that it wouldn’t be long before she did.
And though he hated to admit it, he was more than ready to try to accept her.
CHAPTER NINE
Reade hadn’t done morethan kiss her, for which Blair was grateful. She had enough confusion churning in her mind that the added pressure of a half-naked man sharing her bed nightly was enough to push her over the edge. Why did he have to look as though he was carved from marble? Did he have no understanding of how his body and his nearness made her insides quiver?
Each night, they shared a passionate kiss or two, then he rolled over so his back was to her and fell asleep with a thin plaid blanket tucked between them. He treated her like an untried virgin when he didn’t have to. As her husband, he could have done as she’d commanded on their wedding night, taken her without a second thought, and leave her dripping and miserable.
That didn’t mean he kept his hands off her. Nay. In the mornings, they often woke with his body curled protectively around her, or her arm draped over his chest. And while his brain might struggle with the issues of their union, his cock had no such compunctions, poking at her back or hip, begging for release. All he did was place a chase kiss on her cheek and haul his warrior-muscled body out of bed to ready himself for chores or sword practice. Or outright fighting with his brothers. They fought like wild animals, and she now understood why Mungo had called the MacDonalds feral. Rumors of the MacDonalds wild behavior appeared well-earned.
The memory of Mungo sent a flutter through her chest, not at her dead husband, but at the fine specimen of a man who had no compunctions of dropping his trews in front of her before he wrapped his kilt around his trim, muscled waist.
Was there are part of him that wasn’t muscled? Even his manhood –
She shook herself.Nay, dinna think on that.
Reade was everything Mungo had not been. Perchance he might be everything in bed as well.
But she wasn’t ready to risk that theory. At least, not yet.
They were on the right track. However, they still didn’t speak much, and in truth, she didn’t know much more about the thick-chested, reticent warrior than she had the day she wed him. Her trust wasn’t as committed as her desire.
Instead, she spent her days with Adaira, the kitchen maids, and the wives and sisters of other MacDonalds who lived at the keep or close to it. Market day was approaching, and Sorcha had tasked Adaira and Blair to inventory the pantry stocks which needed replenishing every spring. Most of the food they consumed came from the keep or the surrounding crops, or as payments from crofters. However, other things, like fine cloth, certain fish, chocolate, or jewelry, had to be procured at the market.
