delved his fingers into the mass of hair behind her ear.
Warmed by her sitting by the fire for so long, it was indeed like caressing sunshine. Mesmerized by the feel and sight of the strands spilling and sliding over his fingers like liquid silk—he was sure he’d never touched anything so fine—he drew her closer until their mouths were just a breath away.
“Kiss me,” he said in a voice he didn’t recognize.
The directive unsettled her. She sat rigid in his lap, so tense she resembled a stone pillar. She looked at him, then at his mouth, and licked her lips again.
Ah hell.
His cock was as rigid as she was. He shifted his position, not wanting to alarm her, but every time he moved, he only became more aware of the fact that a beautiful, fiery woman was sitting in his arms. A woman he’d told he wasn’t consummating their marriage tonight.
Idiot.
Surely he could put her on the horse with him so she experienced no discomfort.
Nay, that wouldn’t work either because then he’d have to endure the entire ride in agony.
He sighed and resigned himself to a night of extreme discomfort. He had no intention of bedding her, but neither would he allow her to sleep in her own chamber.
His brothers never spent a night away from their wives. He’d give them no cause to think he was lacking.
Hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his. Just barely a touch, but it was like a streak of lightning. Hot. His toes even tingled as if they’d been dipped in fire.
It took every bit of his restraint not to roll her onto the bed and kiss her senseless. His newfound patience and desire to not frighten the daylights out of her was one of his more stupid decisions.
She drew away immediately, her eyes wide, a touch of pink suffusing her soft cheeks. Then she slid one hand up his chest and over his shoulder, staring warily at him the whole while as if she expected him to bite her for daring to touch him. Jesu, but he was nigh to the point of begging her to touch him.
Her fingers wandered to his neck and then she put her mouth carefully to his again. This time she remained there as she tentatively explored his mouth. With her tongue. Sweet mother of God, this was killing him.
She stirred restlessly against him as she pressed closer, her mouth hotly fused to his.
A surge of lust rolled through his body, but he held back, not wanting to destroy the sweetness of her offering. She was an innocent for all her warrior ways and attempts at acting like a man. She deserved all the gentleness and wooing he could muster, though God only knew he’d deserve sainthood before this was over with.
“ ’Tis not unpleasant, this kissing,” she whispered.
“Nay, lass, ’tis not unpleasant at all. Who told you such?”
She paused and pulled farther away, her eyes faintly glazed as she stared back at him. “No one. I’ve never kissed anyone before. ’Tis the truth I don’t know the way of it.”
He nearly groaned. It pleased him that he was the only man she’d ever kissed—provided she told the truth—but such innocence couldn’t be faked, surely, and what would she have to gain by such a falsehood? Nay, he was allowing past transgressions to color the present, which was hardly fair to his bride.
And that she said she didn’t know anything of kissing made him want to snort. The lass was a born temptress. She kissed with a mixture of bold vixen and sweet innocence that inspired so many conflicting reactions that he was tongue-tied and cross-eyed.
“I think you have it just right,” he murmured. “But just in case, perchance you could practice a bit more on me.”
She shook with nervous laughter, the sound tinkling over his ears like little silver bells.
“Kissing can be wondrous if done correctly,” he said. Even as he spoke, he thought on how long it had been since he’d truly enjoyed something as sweet as a simple kiss.
“Correctly?”
“Aye.”
“Show me.”
He grinned and pulled her lower, then bent and pressed his
Warmed by her sitting by the fire for so long, it was indeed like caressing sunshine. Mesmerized by the feel and sight of the strands spilling and sliding over his fingers like liquid silk—he was sure he’d never touched anything so fine—he drew her closer until their mouths were just a breath away.
“Kiss me,” he said in a voice he didn’t recognize.
The directive unsettled her. She sat rigid in his lap, so tense she resembled a stone pillar. She looked at him, then at his mouth, and licked her lips again.
Ah hell.
His cock was as rigid as she was. He shifted his position, not wanting to alarm her, but every time he moved, he only became more aware of the fact that a beautiful, fiery woman was sitting in his arms. A woman he’d told he wasn’t consummating their marriage tonight.
Idiot.
Surely he could put her on the horse with him so she experienced no discomfort.
Nay, that wouldn’t work either because then he’d have to endure the entire ride in agony.
He sighed and resigned himself to a night of extreme discomfort. He had no intention of bedding her, but neither would he allow her to sleep in her own chamber.
His brothers never spent a night away from their wives. He’d give them no cause to think he was lacking.
Hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his. Just barely a touch, but it was like a streak of lightning. Hot. His toes even tingled as if they’d been dipped in fire.
It took every bit of his restraint not to roll her onto the bed and kiss her senseless. His newfound patience and desire to not frighten the daylights out of her was one of his more stupid decisions.
She drew away immediately, her eyes wide, a touch of pink suffusing her soft cheeks. Then she slid one hand up his chest and over his shoulder, staring warily at him the whole while as if she expected him to bite her for daring to touch him. Jesu, but he was nigh to the point of begging her to touch him.
Her fingers wandered to his neck and then she put her mouth carefully to his again. This time she remained there as she tentatively explored his mouth. With her tongue. Sweet mother of God, this was killing him.
She stirred restlessly against him as she pressed closer, her mouth hotly fused to his.
A surge of lust rolled through his body, but he held back, not wanting to destroy the sweetness of her offering. She was an innocent for all her warrior ways and attempts at acting like a man. She deserved all the gentleness and wooing he could muster, though God only knew he’d deserve sainthood before this was over with.
“ ’Tis not unpleasant, this kissing,” she whispered.
“Nay, lass, ’tis not unpleasant at all. Who told you such?”
She paused and pulled farther away, her eyes faintly glazed as she stared back at him. “No one. I’ve never kissed anyone before. ’Tis the truth I don’t know the way of it.”
He nearly groaned. It pleased him that he was the only man she’d ever kissed—provided she told the truth—but such innocence couldn’t be faked, surely, and what would she have to gain by such a falsehood? Nay, he was allowing past transgressions to color the present, which was hardly fair to his bride.
And that she said she didn’t know anything of kissing made him want to snort. The lass was a born temptress. She kissed with a mixture of bold vixen and sweet innocence that inspired so many conflicting reactions that he was tongue-tied and cross-eyed.
“I think you have it just right,” he murmured. “But just in case, perchance you could practice a bit more on me.”
She shook with nervous laughter, the sound tinkling over his ears like little silver bells.
“Kissing can be wondrous if done correctly,” he said. Even as he spoke, he thought on how long it had been since he’d truly enjoyed something as sweet as a simple kiss.
“Correctly?”
“Aye.”
“Show me.”
He grinned and pulled her lower, then bent and pressed his
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