His gaze clashed with hers, his brows furrowed as he searched her face.
“Lass?” She liked it when he called her lass instead of her given name. “What is it?”
She pressed her lips together, unsure how to voice what she wanted. Would he deem her too forward if she said aloud how she wanted him to kiss her again?
Errol straightened, pulling on his neck. He looked uncomfortable with the scrutiny, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his handsome face.
Without thinking, she lifted her hand to his cheek and stroked gently, the stubble of hair rough under her fingers.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her palm.
That meant he enjoyed her touch, didn’t it? Otherwise, he would shy away from her touch, wouldn’t he?
Feeling daring, she took another step and closed the distance between them so that she was nearly flush against him.
Sensing her closeness, Errol’s eyes snapped open. “Lass,” he warned. His voice sounded different. Strained. But his eyes blazed with amber flecks in the brown.
She stepped up on her tip toes, moving her lips closer to his. He made no move to back away. No move to stop her.
She felt emboldened.
His eyes tracked her every move and when her lips finally touched his, he lifted his hands and cupped her face, his fingers stroking along her jawline. Spinning them around, she found her back against the cool wall of the cave as he plundered her mouth as if he were starving and she were the only food around.
His tongue teased the seam of her mouth, and she parted her lips, allowing him entry. As his tongue delved inside, sweeping along her own, she brought her hands up to grasp his broad shoulders, bunching his tunic in her fingers.
A warmth grew deep in her belly, gaining strength, making her want more, but she didn’t ken what that more was. She only kenned that there was something else she longed for.
Errol’s hands dropped to her hips and pulled her closer, grinding his hips against her. She could feel the hard length of him, and her breath caught in her throat.
She wanted to feel his hands everywhere. Roaming over her bodyas if she were a map and he was the explorer ready to conquer her lands.
He broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers, his warm breath coming out in pants, fanning over her face.
“We cannae do this, Lass.”
“I-I want to.” But what was it she wanted to do? She didn’t ken. She only kenned she didn’t want the delicious sensations that he’d stirred within her to stop. She wanted them to keep going. To keep building. To let the inferno grow.
He groaned, rolling his hips and she sighed. “Ye fit so perfectly to my body, Lass. ’Tis a torture such as I’ve ne’er felt afore.”
“’Tis torture for ye to stop kissing me.”
He chuckled, the sound smooth as whisky rolling over her. “I want to do so much more than kiss ye, Lass.”
“Then why do ye no’?”
His arms wrapped around her, and he brought her head to his chest, resting his chin upon it. “Do I really need to list all the reasons?”
“If ye are going to stop, I only feel ’tis right. I like the feel of yer lips upon mine. I want to feel them again. Is that wrong to say? To ask?”
“Nay. Aye.” He sighed, the sound so loud it nearly echoed off the stone walls. “If only it were that easy. And afore ye believe aught else, I verra much enjoy the feel of yer lips. Much more than yer lips, actually. Yer body against mine feels meant to be. As if ye were created for me.”
She pulled her head away from his chest to meet his eyes. “Mayhap I was.”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and she tracked the movement. She wanted to draw it into her mouth.
“Our families, Lass.”
“Families that at one time were joined. They werenae enemies. Just the opposite. We’ve just started to uncover the truth, but ye cannae deny it.”
