Page 39 of The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

Behind her, Alistair chuckled. “Ye dinnae need tae be so modest, wife, nor fret that I’ll show ye more than ye’re ready fer.”

Intrigued, Niamh peeked over her shoulder. What she saw made her mouth dry and her heart skip a beat, heat pooling in her gut and sparking along her skin as she gazed at her husband.

Alistair remained in his kilt, but he’d removed everything else, and the firelight showed him clearly. Tall, lean, with muscular arms and a well-defined abdomen. His limbs were strong and steady, well-matched to the rest of him, and marked with surprisingly few scars, for a warrior.

He raised a dark eyebrow, and she read amusement in his green eyes. “Like what ye see?”

“I suppose I’ve seen worse.” Niamh turned away, her cheeks hot enough to rival the fire as she strode toward the bed and slid under the covers, facing away from him.

She heard him laugh, then the soft, near soundless slide of footsteps across the floor. Moments later, the bed dipped under his weight, and she felt the coverlet move as he slipped into place beside her. She felt his warmth at her back, and resolutely kept her face turned away.

They lay in silence as the fire slowly died down to embers, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Then, out of the darkness, Alistair spoke. “I ken ye’re nae happy with the situation. And mayhap ye dinnae trust me, with the way we met. But…”

His voice was slow and hesitant, and Niamh finally surrendered to her curiosity enough to roll over to look at him. “Aye?”

“Ye can trust me nae tae tak’ advantage o’ ye. If ye’re in need o’ comfort, or aught else, ye can trust me tae dae the best I can fer ye.”

Niamh recalled the way he’d held her, their last night in an inn. After a moment of hesitation, she slid closer to him, close enough to lay her head on his shoulder. His warmth surrounded her, even as his arm, which had been outstretched in her direction, wrapped around her waist in a loose embrace.

His presence was comforting, making her relax even more after the tea she’d drunk a few minutes prior. And yet, despite that, her mind refused to quiet enough to slip into sleep.

She was far too aware that she was lying next to a solid, male, and mostly unclothed body, and the awareness made her skin tingle and her body feel hot, as if she was blushing from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. She wanted... something. Something more.

She tried to count sheep, and think of lullabies, but nothing helped. Finally, she gave up. “Alistair?”

“Aye?” The swiftness of his reply suggested he had been struggling with sleep as much as she had.

“I cannae sleep.” She felt childish, saying such things as if she were a wee lass begging for some warmed milk or a drink of water. “I dinnae ken why.”

“A difficult day can dae that. The mind willnae quiet, even when the body is wearied.” He sounded as if he had far too much experience with such things.

Niamh bit her lip. In other circumstances, she would have gone to the healer for a tisane. But this was supposed to be her wedding night, and she’d already asked for a soothing tea. Rumors would surely start if she sent for a sleeping potion as well. “Is there... dae ye ken anything that might help? Other than tea, or a potion.”

Alistair rolled onto his side to face her. “I ken a few things, but I dinnae ken if ye want me tae try them.”

“Ye mean…” She flushed. “Ye said we wouldnae…”

“Nae that. But there’s other ways, and other things I can show ye. Yer virtue would remain intact, but ye would get some sense o’ the way things are meant tae be between a married man and woman.” Alistair’s voice was low and coaxing, and Niamh found herself intrigued in spite of her trepidation.

She recalled Catriona telling her there were many ways for men and women to share pleasure. She also recalled the healer’s words that a good husband would see to her comfort and her enjoyment as much as he did his own. What Alistair offered her might be a good way to see what kind of husband he would truly be.

And, Niamh had to admit, she was curious. She had spent so much time fearing marriage and the marriage bed. She wanted to know more, in the hope that perhaps a greater understanding of marriage could ease her nightmares, as Alistair’s presence had done on so many occasions.

She reached out to him. “Aye.”

“Aye?” Alistair blinked. He clearly hadn’t expected her to agree.

Niamh took a deep breath. “I dinnae… I cannae…” She stopped, then reached over and took his hand. “I ken what I’m afeared o’ happening. Show me the things I’ve never imagined, the things that make women willing tae face the dangers that come with loving a man.”

Alistair’s fingers twined with hers, then he moved, leaning over her to cup her face with his other hand. His voice was low and husky when he answered. “Aye. I can dae that.”

His mouth fastened over hers, firm but gentle. She felt the touch of his tongue against the seam of her lips and hesitantly parted them, gasping as his tongue twined with hers and danced across the roof of her mouth, caressing and teasing.

Alistair kissed her almost senseless, his hand on her face as he broke the kiss to whisper lovingly in her ear. “Just relax, lass. And tell me if I dae aught ye dinnae like.”

With that, he kissed her again, but this time on the point of her jaw. Niamh inhaled sharply as his teeth nipped gently at the lobe of her ear. The sensation was sharp, but oddly pleasant, and made her skin tingle in a way that made her long for more.

Another kiss, this time to the pulse point in her throat, then another at her collarbone, this one accompanied by the bite of teeth and a soft sucking that made her shiver. It stung, but at the same time, she could feel sparks dancing under her skin, and heat pooling low in her stomach.