Page 74 of The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

Niamh looked up at him, her eyes wide and soft and vulnerable. “But is it nae me risk tae tak’, or tae refuse?”

He agreed, he just hadn’t expected her to be arguing to have a child, as opposed to avoiding it, and the change made him feel off-balance, like he’d stumbled and taken a wrong step in the middle of a fight. It also made him realize something else.

He wanted her. He wanted to love her in every way possible. But he was also terrified of doing so. Terrified of the curse and what it might mean for them. Terrified of the danger that loomed over them in the form of Fergus MacTavish. And terrified of losing her to the very thing she had been so afraid of for so long - the dangers of childbirth.

When she’d been so adamantly against complete intimacy, it had been easy to ignore his fears, to focus on making her happy and offering her what comfort he could in her situation. Now he was forced to realize that he was as uncertain, and as worried about the outcome, as she was.

And yet, even with the fear that trickled through his veins and tightened his shoulders, he was acutely aware of her body so close to his, her warmth and the soft touch of her hands. His own body stirred with need and desire, longing to grant the wish she’d confessed to him.

Alistair reached up to stroke a hand through her soft auburn hair, then gently cupped her chin. “Are ye sure? That this is what ye want?”

“Aye. At least, I’m sure I’d like tae try. And bairn or nae bairn, I want ye.”

There was a part of him that wanted to find an excuse to refuse her. A reason to delay, to hold back, or put her at arms length. But the rest of him was lost in the brilliance of her eyes, the warmth of her against him, and the desire he had been ruthlessly trying to ignore.

He had spent so long holding back, and now that she was welcoming him, now that he could see the flush of desire and warmth blooming across her cheeks and shining in her eyes, his concerns seemed but petty, insignificant things.

“There’s danger in everything, Alistair, and many things for man and woman alike tae fear in the world. Why should we not try tae find what brings joy as well?”

Against that, he had no answer. Alistair dipped his head to claim her lips in a gentle kiss, then hefted Niamh into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The world seemed enveloped in warmth and softness and light, desire dancing inside her like a flickering candle-glow, and all Niamh could do was surrender to it as Alistair carried her into the bedroom, laid her on the bed, and reverently began to undress her.

She hadn’t intended to suggest they have a child, hadn’t even known the desire was inside her until the words had been spoken. And yet, as Alistair undid the laces of her dress and slid the fabric off her, she felt no fear. Only desire, and warmth, along with a tiny, seedling-like sprout of hope that her mother’s fate did not have to be her own, and neither did the life of a lonely virginal wife.

The whispers of her father’s love, and the promises of the castle women surrounded her, driving away her fears and uncertainties, so that she could look at her husband with clear eyes.

Alistair was kind, handsome, good with children and courteous even in the face of the worst of her temper. His smile held warmth, and his hands held gentleness, for all he was a stern laird and a warrior born.

She had never felt any sort of desire for any man before Alistair. And yet now, she could think of nothing else she wanted, save to have him in her arms, to truly consummate their marriage and become husband and wife in every sense of the word.

Alistair’s hands slid her dress and her chemise from her body, leaving her naked before him, but she was long past being nervous about that. Instead, she lay back, watching with appreciation and growing desire as Alistair removed his own clothing and cast it aside in graceful, unhurried movements.

She’d seen him naked before, but even so, she enjoyed watching him, the way the firelight played over the broad shoulders, the lean waist, and the muscled lines of his limbs. He was already stirring with desire as well, his manhood stiffening in arousal to match the heat and dampness between her legs. He stared at her for a long moment once he was done removing his clothing, then strode to the bed and sat on it, his eyes dark with need and wanting.

She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t for him to lean forward and kiss her, long and slow and deep, as if it was their first kiss, or their last. There was passion in the press of his lips, the heat of his mouth and the way his tongue danced with hers, but it was tempered with a gentleness she hadn’t anticipated.

Then he moved and pressed a kiss to her brow. Then her cheek. Then the point of her jaw, before he nipped at her ear. The sensation sent sparks to her core, and Niamh shifted restlessly at the warm pulse of desire that washed over her. “Alistair…”

“Hush.” His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through her as he tilted his head to press a kiss to the pulse point in her throat, then to the join of neck and shoulder. He tipped his head then, so she could see the heat in his eyes. “I never thought ye’d want me, nor intended tae ask fer more than ye were willing tae give. But if ye’ve truly changed yer mind, I’ll nae be rushing the matter. I’ll tak’ me time and pleasure ye enough that ye’ll never regret this choice.”

Niamh swallowed stunned by the words, then silenced by another pulse of warmth as he kissed the hollow of her throat, then captured her right breast in his mouth and suckled gently. He teased her nipple with lips and teeth and tongue, nipping and sucking and caressing until she thought that it would drive her mad. His free hand cupped the mound of her other breast, offering gentle caresses that heightened the sensations. By the time he switched his full attention to her left breast and placed his hand on her right, she was squirming, gasping as waves of pleasure surged from her bosom to her core. “Alistair…”

He shifted again, burying his face between her breasts as his hands caressed her arms, from shoulders to fingers. He stroked them slowly over every inch of her bared skin, as if trying to memorize the feel of her. The tenderness and intimacy of the gesture was breathtaking enough, but her already sensitive body felt alive and humming with sparks, and every brush of his warm, callused hands made the sensation shiver through her.

“Lift yer arms fer me.” He gently guided her hands above her head. “There.”

His hands went to her sides, caressing, mapping, finding every spot that made her gasp, or shiver, or squirm. His mouth traced slow lingering kisses down the center of her body, from between her breasts, across her belly, and to her navel. At her navel, he paused, his tongue plunging as deep into the small hollow as it was possible for it to go. Niamh gasped and arched into it, feeling as if he was caressing her core with his tongue. The sparks turned to darts of lightning, going straight from his tongue to her groin, making her long for his touch. Her legs parted, welcoming him.

Instead, Alistair raised his head and his hands and scooted downward to caress her feet with the same loving attention he’d given the rest of her. Niamh gasped, caught by surprise at how dismayed she felt, how much she wanted him to touch her there. “Alistair…”

He ignored her pleading and slid his hands slowly across her feet, kneading the bottoms of them and finding spots she’d never imagined could give her so much sensation, let alone pleasure. Then he caressed her shins, her calves, and her knees, his hands moving upward with such excruciating slowness that it was all she could do not to beg.

He was making love to her entire body, and she’d never imagined such a thing. The pleasure of it, and the humbling feeling of being almost worshiped by such a powerful man was nearly overwhelming. Catriona had told her a proper lover would be attentive to her needs and desires as well as his own, but this was more than she’d expected, and she was sure she was going to go mad from the sheer intensity of the experience before he claimed her.

His hands slid to her thighs, stroking the soft, sensitive skin and making her shiver as he slid between her knees and gently opened her most sensitive and secret place to him. She quivered as he caressed her, his hands carefully and deliberately avoiding her sex and the damp curls that adorned it as he slid them over thighs, the crease of her hips, and around to lift and massage her buttocks.