Sìleas rested her head against Ian’s chest as he carried her up the stairs. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore, but she felt safe nestled in his arms, and she needed to feel safe now.
Ian carried her into her bedchamber and kicked the door shut behind him. As soon as he set her on her feet next to the bed, he whisked her gown over her head, leaving her standing in her chemise. She was too drained to be embarrassed. He kept one hand on her shoulder to steady her as he folded back the blankets, then he lifted her onto the bed.
With a gentleness surprising in such a big man, he brushed the hair back from her face with his fingers. The gesture reminded her of his father’s kindness that day he found them in the wood and knelt beside her, talking softly and holding her hand between his huge ones.
Beneath the dangerous, war-hardened man Ian had become, the kindness of the boy he once was lingered. He framed her face with his hands and leaned down to kiss her. She sighed as he brushed his lips over hers.
“I don’t want ye to fret,” he said in a soft voice, “but I’m coming into bed with ye.”
Her mouth went dry as he unfastened his claymore and laid it on the floor next to the bed, where it would be close at hand. She knew he did it from habit, and yet that, too, made her feel safe. No one would get past the door while Ian was here.
She watched as he took off his boots and socks and then unwound his plaid and dropped it. He was standing in just his shirt, which fell to his thighs. She stared at his powerful legs, so different from how they were when he was a boy, then brought her gaze slowly back to his face. Ian had been a lovely boy, but he was so handsome now it made her ache to look at him.
When he met her gaze and his eyes went dark, she felt a stirring deep within her. Even if what he felt for her was mostly pity, she couldn’t help reacting to his desire for her. Desire, pity, duty. If that was all that brought him to her bed and secured their marriage, he would never be content with her. At least not for long.
She drew in a shaky breath as Ian unfastened his shirt. He paused midway and dropped his hands.
He did not want her after all. The scars were too ugly.
“I’m no going to take your virginity this time, because ye are upset,” he said. “I want ye to decide to have me as your husband with a clear head and heart.”
The bed rocked as he climbed in beside her. Before she could catch her breath, he pulled her into his arms. The heat and power of him radiated through her from head to toe.
“What I am going to do,” he said with his face so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips, “is leave ye with no doubt that I want ye.”
She swallowed. She strongly suspected his plan would involve removing the rest of her clothes.
“It’s too light” was all she could manage to get through her tight throat.
“The first time I have ye naked, I want to see ye.”
The first time. Would there be a second after he saw her back? He’d only seen a little of her scars in the kitchen. And even if the scars didn’t trouble him, would she disappoint him in other ways?
“You’re as lovely as your name, Sìleas.” He said her name, drawing out the shhh sound. “I should have known you’d grow into it, just as ye have your teeth.”
She didn’t think it was possible to draw a smile from her, but this did. “And what is wrong with my teeth?”
“Nothing at all.” He dragged his thumb over her bottom lip, making her breath hitch. “I’d like to feel them on my skin.”
“Are ye joking?” She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he shook his head, and her heart skipped a beat. Taking her hand, he scraped his teeth over the pad of her thumb, sending a thrill of sensation through her.
When he covered her mouth with his, she found it hard to hang onto her worries.
He’d kissed her many times now, so she thought she was prepared. But kissing lying down was turning out to be a different experience altogether. She felt overwhelmed by his closeness, by the weight of him leaning over her, pressing her into the bed.
His lips were warm and soft. When she put her palm to his face to feel the rough bristles against her palm, he made a low sound in his throat. The thrust of his tongue in her mouth sent spirals of pleasure down to her belly. Her heart was beating too fast. And that was before she felt the warmth of his hand cover her breast.
She gasped for breath when he tore his mouth away from hers.
“Ahh, ye feel good, Sìl,” he said in her ear.
He nipped at her earlobe, sending unexpected tingles through her, then kissed the side of her face. As he moved down her throat, he drew involuntary sighs from her lips. The moist warmth of his breath, his lips, his tongue on her skin, captured all her attention. But when she felt his mouth on the bare skin at the top of her breast, her eyes flew open.
When she started to sit up, Ian locked his hands around her wrists, pressed them to the bed on either side of her head, and proceeded to dissolve her resistance with endless kisses. She wasn’t aware of when he released her hands, but she had them around his neck now, urging him closer.
She groaned in disappointment when he pulled away. He gave her a warm smile that shone in his eyes.
“We’d best get this next part over with, Sìl.”
Before she knew it, he flipped her onto her stomach.
Guessing his intention, she gripped the sides of her chemise with both hands. “No, Ian. No.”
Instead of jerking her chemise up as she expected, he drew her hair to the side and started kissing her neck. His lips were so soft, she sighed without meaning to. Then he kissed her bare shoulder. Straddling her on all fours, he slowly worked his way down, rubbing firm hands over her and kissing her through the cloth of her chemise.
She had been touched so little in her life. The intimacy of the contact caused little flutters in her stomach. She started at the unexpected sensation when he nipped at her bottom through the chemise, with what felt very much like his teeth. When she rose up on her elbows to look over her shoulder, he gave her a devilish grin.
She let her head sink back to the bed. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on his hands as they slid over her hips and up and down her thighs. When he picked up her foot and kissed the bottom, it tickled and felt good at the same time. Her foot! Surely, he must care a little to do that.
He started back up her legs, but this time he was touching bare skin. She clenched her fists in her chemise again, but her fingers loosened as he kneaded the muscles of her legs.
“Your legs are tight,” he said. “Ye work too hard.”
“Mmmph.”
His strong hands felt wonderful on her sore muscles—though she tensed every time his hand strayed to the inside of her thigh.
When he nipped at her bottom again, there was no cloth between it and his teeth. But it felt so good to be touched all over, she didn’t object.
She was drifting in a liquid pool of warmth, when Ian leaned over her and said in her ear, “I have to do this.”
She felt a gush of cold air on her back. Then she heard Ian suck in his breath and felt him go still above her.
“No!” She tried to get up, but Ian held her down by her shoulders.
He was quiet for a long time. Then he said in a strained voice, “Truly, I can hardly see the scars, they are so faint.”
“You’re lying to me. Ye can’t bear to look at me.”
“No, no, it’s not that at all,” he said.
She drew in a shaky breath and rested her head on the bed again.
“It’s just that I can tell what they once looked like, what he did to ye,” he said. “And it makes me so angry, I want to kill the bastard with my bare hands.”
When she felt his lips touch her back with feather-light kisses, tears filled her eyes at his tenderness.
“I’ve been afraid Murdoc would come take me ever since your da came home injured.” She glanced at Ian over her shoulder and saw him wince as if her words cut him.
“He will no get ye now,” he said. “I won’t let him.”
“I know,” she said against the pillow.
“Thank ye for that, Sìl,” he said in a soft voice.
She hadn’t felt comfortable in her own skin since the beating. After hiding her scars for so many years, she began to feel at ease in her nakedness as Ian moved over her back with his soft, warm kisses. While he kissed her, his hands moved in circles—up and down her sides, brushing the sides of her breasts and following the lines of her waist and hips.
“Ah, Sìleas,” he said. “Ye are so beautiful. I want to touch every inch of ye.”
Gòrdan and other men had told her she was beautiful, but she had never felt it. Ian’s hands made her almost believe it. His touch was reverential and soothed her.
More, his acceptance began to heal the scar on her heart.
Five years ago, Ian’s harsh words on the day of their wedding had been like the sting of alcohol on her fresh wounds. They had deepened the scar inside her. Perhaps that was the reason only he could heal her.
Ian moved off her to lie beside her, turning her with him so that she felt the comforting heat of his body down her back and all around her. She closed her eyes, following the movement of his hand up her thigh and over the swell of her hip to her waist.
Then she felt something hard and urgent pressing against her backside—and her sense of peacefulness vanished. Her heart was beating twice as fast as before. Despite Ian’s statement that he did not intend to take her virginity—this time—she suddenly felt her vulnerability, lying naked in bed next to an aroused man.
She licked her lips. “While this has all been verra pleasant, I should get up now.”
She managed to sit up, but Ian sat up with her.
“Not yet,” Ian said with a firm hand on her hip. “Trust me.”
“I can guess what comes next,” she said and tried to wriggle away from him.
“I don’t think ye can,” he said, pulling her closer. “But I’m looking forward to showing ye.”
She turned to face him. “I know ye feel guilty for things that aren’t your fault—like your father’s lost leg and the scars on my back—and for a few things that may be your fault. But ye can’t fix them by tying yourself to me now.”
“I told ye, I won’t take it that far,” he said, cupping her face with his hand. “I know you’re not ready. Ye can trust me.”
Trust him or no, she let him coax her back down on the bed. She lay on her side again, with him behind her.
“I can smell summer heather on your skin,” he said, as he nuzzled her neck.
She held her breath as his hand moved up her belly, then let it out in a small gasp when his hand encompassed her breast. All her senses were ajar, with the heat of him surrounding her, pressed against her everywhere. His breathing grew harsh as he planted hot, wet kisses on the side of her throat. Then he held her tight against him so that her body moved with his in a slow rocking motion.
“I do want ye,” he said in her ear. “Tell me ye know that.”
“Aye.” For certain he did, but he’d likely want any woman who was pressed up against him naked in bed.
He distracted her by rubbing his thumb over her nipple. The sensations shot to somewhere deep in her belly. Then he turned her on her back and took her breast in his mouth.
Did all men know to do this? She was breathing too fast. She was arching her back, her body begging him not to stop, as the sensations ripped through her and settled in a dull ache between her legs.
She wanted to feel his skin against hers. “Can ye not take off your shirt?”
“Do ye want to kill me, lass?” he asked, but he sat up and whipped his shirt off.
When he pulled her into his arms, she clenched her teeth, savoring the delicious sensation of his hard muscles and rough chest hair against her breasts. He kissed her until she felt as if she were floating.
His tongue moved against hers as he ran his fingers in slow circles from her hip to the top of her thigh. Each time his fingers brushed the place that ached between her legs it caused a burst of sensation. She felt so sensitive there it almost hurt—and yet she nearly groaned in disappointment each time his hand moved away.
When he finally slid his fingers between her legs, the word “Aye!” came out of her mouth. Ian made a low sound in his throat and clamped his mouth over hers.
This wasn’t the slow, sensual kiss of before but greedy, demanding. While he ravished her mouth, his fingers did a magic dance between her legs. She held on to him, wanting him closer, closer still, as the silvery sensations cascaded through her.
He broke the kiss and looked down at her with eyes that were dark with blue fire. “I want to see ye find your release,” he said in a ragged voice. “Do ye know what that is?”
It was hard to concentrate with what he was doing to her with his hand, but she managed to shake her head.
“I want to give ye such pleasure that ye cry out.”
“Do ye?” she asked doubtfully. “Are ye sure?”
“Oh, aye,” he said, giving her a wicked smile that made her toes curl. “Trust me. Let me do this.”
He gave her another deep kiss. Then he was running his tongue between her breasts, circling her nipple, all the while working his magic fingers between her legs. When he took her breast into his mouth and sucked, she heard herself making high-pitched pleading sounds. Whatever he was doing, she wanted more. Sensations coursed through her until every fiber in her being was strained with tension, waiting for something, something more.
Her body felt as if she might snap in two, but Ian was relentless.
And then she burst into a thousand pieces. She heard herself cry out as her body clenched in a spasm of intense pleasure that left her shaking. Before she could catch her breath, Ian was kissing her with a need and an urgency that sent a new surge of desire pulsing through her. His hands were everywhere, squeezing, stroking, as he devoured her with his kisses.
When he rolled on top of her and urged her legs apart with his knee, she didn’t remind him of his promise. She wanted what he wanted. She wanted him inside her, to be joined with him, to be one with him.
A tear slid down the side of her face because this was Ian, the man who was always meant to be her husband. The man she wanted to be her first lover and her last. It could only be Ian. Always Ian, and no other.
When his shaft touched her center, desire surged through her like a wave crashing onto the shore. She pulled on his shoulders, urging him forward.
But he lifted his body away from hers and dropped his head to rest his forehead lightly on her breast bone. Her body was so tense that his breath prickled her damp skin.
“I’m trying hard to remember my promise,” he said.
“I want ye to forget it. Please, Ian.”
But he moved off her and dropped onto his back beside her. The air was charged with the tension between their bodies, and they were both gasping for breath.
“I just needed to stop a moment,” he said.
She turned and tentatively rested her hand on the flat of his stomach. He started at her touch, then took her hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss her fingers.
He rolled to face her and laid his hand against her cheek. “Did ye like that?”
“Aye.” She flushed, feeling embarrassed.
“Ye were wonderful to watch,” he said, running his hand over her hair. “I love the sounds ye made, and the feel of ye under my hands.”
At his words, she felt the tension growing in her again. She swallowed. The intensity of his eyes on hers made it worse. When he put his hand between her legs again, her breath hitched.
Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he said, “I like that ye are hot and wet for me, Sìl. You’re a beautiful woman. You’re everything I want.”
“I don’t know what to do. Shouldn’t I…” She tried to hold on to the thought, but Ian was moving his fingers in that way that made it impossible to think of anything else.
“No love. This time is just for you,” he said, as he rolled her on her back.
Then Ian’s mouth was on hers, and she let herself be swept away by the magic.