Page 39

Chapter

She should have more.

Stepping through the door of her bedchamber, it was Kieran’s first thought. Though the room was unmistakably Maisie, it was not much bigger than his own room.

He’d intended to talk.

To ask Maisie what she’d been thinking since last eve.

To tell her about Niall.

To simply be in her presence for a bit longer.

And yet, when she closed the door behind him, he did not want to talk at all. Kieran said he’d not touch her unless she willed it, so he kept his word.

Except . . .

“One quick kiss,” he said, moving toward her, his intentions clear.

He could reach out and touch her, but didn’t. Kieran waited, never wanting anything more than to kiss this woman. Her brief, barely perceptible nod was all he needed. When he pulled her toward him, Maisie fairly crashed into his chest. His head descended, his lips capturing hers.

Maisie opened for him, knowing now the dance their tongues engaged in. Her head tilted, her moans making him grow hard. But that was not to be. This was a simple kiss. And yet. It felt anything but simple.

In fact, it felt intense. Complicated.

His arms wrapped around her as Maisie’s did the same. Kieran had meant this to be a quick kiss but was loathe to break apart. He wanted more, and by Maisie’s movements, it seemed she did too. When her hands moved to his chest, her fingers splayed as if attempting to feel him beneath the material of his plaid and shirt, he did break the kiss.

The look she gave him . . . he must have misinterpreted it.

“Maisie?”

“I want to know you, Kieran.”

His response was swift and certain. “Nay. We cannae. You said you do not wish to care for me . . .”

And I wish the same. How could I ever take a wife when I don’t know who I am? What I have to offer?

“Can we not place feelings aside for this one night? I’ve had a taste of the pleasure that being with a man could bring, one I’d not known was possible. And now I wish to know more even if there is pain in this act itself. Show me, Kieran.”

He could not.

But wished to very, very much.

“There would not be pain between us Maisie. Even still . . . ”

“Let me please you too.”

Her words were too much for him to bear. The thought of making love to her. Being inside her.

“You said there are ways, to prevent. . .” She looked down.

“There are. I would not spill my seed in you,” he said bluntly, wanting her to ken. “But Maisie. Are you certain?”

She did not hesitate. “I am.”

He reached for her once again. This time, their kiss was not one of desperation. It was a slow precursor. While his lips moved over hers, so did his hands. With each touch of his tongue, he untied, tugged, and eventually undid the laces that kept Maisie’s gown in place. She aided by shrugging out of the sleeves, the two of them not once breaking their kiss.

And so it went with their boots. His plaid. Maisie’s shift. In the most sensual of ways their kiss was broken only temporarily as one by one their pieces of clothing fell aside. With a fire roaring, two candles and a lantern offering plenty of light to see her, Kieran guided Maisie to the bed, stopping only briefly to grab the cloth by Maisie’s washbowl and place it on the bed.