“Then there’s only one thing left tae do.” He settled his hands around her waist. God, but she was a tiny little thing. Delicate and fragile in some places, hard and determined in others. He was very much looking forward to exploring every luscious curve, every slim line. Her body was a banquet of hidden delights that he wanted to feast upon. But for now, for this night, he’d settle for a slight taste of the heaven that was to come.
“What–what’s that?” she said, her voice caught somewhere between a gasp and a whimper when he trailed his fingers up her ribcage and stopped just shy of her breasts. Lifted by the heavy boning of her corset, they were but begging to be caressed. The flesh firm and plump. The nipples, already budding, barely concealed beneath a thin layer of satin.
“Practice our wedding kiss,” he rasped before he bent his head and captured the sweet silk of her lips with his own.
Almost immediately, the kiss burned hotter than the one before it.
That kiss was gentle, innocent, gradual. And while there had been fire–there hadalwaysbeen fire–it had smoldered low and steady, like coals left behind to keep the hearth warm until morning.
But this kiss…this kissroared. And crackled, and set off a wave of such intense heat that they were both singed by the flames.
A humming sound vibrated in Brynne’s throat as she opened her mouth and his tongue slid inside. She tasted of champagne and something a tad more decadent. Chocolate, perhaps. Or a rich, velvety cake.
He angled his head, kissed her jaw, then lightly took her earlobe and suckled as her fingers threaded into his hair and pulled. On a growl, he traced a fiery path down the slender column of her neck, following the edge of her collarbone out to her shoulder where he pulled at the top of her bodice with his teeth.
More flames, more heat, as her gorgeous breasts, dusky nipples bathed in moonlight, spilled into his waiting hands.
Her eyes, closed until now, fluttered open and filled with shock, then flooded with desire as he lavished his complete, undivided attention upon the sensitive ivory globes. First with his fingers…and then with his mouth as her head lolled back and a mewling cry of pleasure escaped from her lips.
Fascinated by a freckle on the underside of her breast, he nuzzled the tiny imperfection. She raked her nails across his shoulders, digging them into muscle and sinew as he drew her nipple between his teeth and rolled his tongue around it. Another whimper, the tiniest, instinctive lift of her hips, and it was all Lachlan could do not to lift his face to the sky and howl at the moon.
He would have taken her then and there. He wanted to.
Bloody hell, did he want to.
His entire body was filled with need.
His cock was throbbing with it.
But he wasn’t about to let Brynne’s first experience with lovemaking occur on a bench in the dark with her skirts rucked up around her waist.
Reluctantly, he raised his head and kissed her, one last time. A kiss to tide him over until tomorrow, where there was ample room in the carriage to see if she had freckles hiding anywhere else.
He helped her lift and straighten her bodice. Secured a button that had come loose between her shoulder blades. Held a sapphire comb in his hand as she repaired her coiffure.
“Thank you,” she murmured, adorably shy when he returned it to her. “Do I look all right?”
His eyes glinted. “If ye’re asking if ye look like ye were just thoroughly ravished, the answer is aye. But I’m the only one tae know, and ye can blame that pink in yer cheeks on a second glass of champagne. Would ye like me tae escort ye back?”
“I know the way, thank you. And…it would probably be best if I went alone.”
Although he nodded in agreement, he was ready for the day when he was able to walk into a room with Brynne next to him, to hell with anyone who didn’t think an English rose belonged on the arm of a Scottish briar.
“I’ll see ye tomorrow, then. At noon in the village square.”
“Lachlan…” When her gaze dropped to the ground, his blood ran cold.
“Bry–”
“I’m not saying no,” she interrupted. “Or that I refuse your proposal, or that I don’t want to marry you. It’s just…once I do this, once I leave, there won’t be an easy way back for me. I need time to think it over.”
For Lachlan, there was no question. No doubt. His heart, his soul, his life–they belonged to Brynne. He’d walk through hell to stand by her side, and the pain of knowing that she wasn’t certain if she was ready to stand by his was sharp and swift, like the slice of blade.
How much more did he have to give? What else could he say to convince her? That he was enough. Thattheywere enough. That she didn’t need the trappings of a society that would rather see her caged than open her wings and fly.
“Tomorrow,” he said flatly. “Noon.”
“Lachlan–”
