Page 72 of Sinful Scottish Laird
Daisy’s heart was in her throat. “There is only one thing that will ease me, Arrandale, and you know perfectly well what it is. But I think you are too fearful.”
“I’m no’ fearful,leannan.Donna mistake my reluctance for fear. What of the man you mean to marry?”
“He is asleep in another room. And he has not yet offered. I’ve not yet accepted.”
“You are dividing your words now, aye?” he scolded her. His expression was predatory, as if he were assessing the prey he would soon devour.
Daisy’s pulse raced in her veins; she was breathless, anticipating what would come, her body straining for it. “Not my words. My life,” she said. “I want to be here now, with you. Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong to have been widowed and feel desire again? Is it so wrong to separate my true desires from my duty as a mother?”
Cailean shook his head. “I’ll no’ be your conscience,leannan,any more than I’ll allow you to be mine, aye? I willna be your diversion. If I touch you now, I willna kiss you. I will possess you. You’ve gone too far down this path and now you’ve awakened the beast in me. Do you understand?”
What she understood was that her heart was racing so hard that she feared it might burst. She nodded.
His gaze turned even darker. Prurient. “Shall I close the door, then?” he asked, his voice low and calm. It sent a shock through her.
She nodded.
With his boot, he shut the door behind him. He locked it shut, then began to advance on her, his approach slow and catlike. When he reached her, he sank his hands into her hair, whispered, “How mad you are,leannan.How mad you’ve made me,” and kissed her.
All rational thought vanished with that kiss. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back with the demand of the many years she’d endured simply wanting.
Cailean twisted her about, pressing her against the wall, his mouth hungrily devouring hers. His need was just as evident as hers. She could feel it in his touch—demanding yet restrained. In his body—hard and long against hers. In his kiss—insistent and reverent.This,she realized, would happen. She was almost frantic for passion.Truepassion. The sort of passion she would rush headlong into and then abandon herself in the pool of it. She wanted to savor every moment. She wanted to feel his body against hers, in hers.
Cailean’s mouth was warm and wet and agonizingly pleasurable. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and the fire of desire spread so quickly there was nothing that could douse it. She clung to Cailean, felt his muscles moving beneath her hands, felt his erection pressed against her belly. This was what she wanted; these were the arms she wanted around her.
He was moving her backward now, his hands working the ribbon ties that fastened her gown around her. He threw the mantua aside. Her stomacher came off next, discarded on the floor. She wore a coral petticoat and a corset over her undergarments. Cailean paused, his hands sliding delicately down her shoulders as he took her in.“Boidheach,”he said and untied the waist of the petticoat, helping her step out of it. He then began to work the laces of her corset while Daisy tried frantically to free him of the neckcloth and plaid sash.
But Cailean pushed her hands away and gathered her up in his arms once he’d freed her from the corset. He picked her up, put her on her back on the bed and put himself on top of her. He kissed her mouth ravenously, then the hollow of her throat, fluttering his kisses there. He moved to her collarbone and down. Daisy soundlessly cried out when he took her breast in his mouth. He held her hand pinned to the bed, as if he feared she would disappear as he suckled her breasts, kissed her skin, touched his tongue to her nipples.
His touch unleashed a monstrous storm of yearning in her, and Daisy was lost in the maelstrom. She clutched at him, caressed him, freely explored his rugged, almost rocklike body as he shrugged out of his shirt.
He tossed his shirt aside and kissed her breast again, murmuring something about her galloping heart. She began to pant on a white-hot river of anticipation that ran down her spine, then spilled between her legs. When Cailean pressed his erection against her leg, she cupped his face, rising up to kiss him.
“What have you done to me?” he asked gruffly. “I donna ken myself.”
Daisy pushed a lock of dark hair from his brow and stared into his eyes. This was different. This was unique and exotic, and there was something flowing between them and seeping into their skin and filling the space around them, wrapping them in its cocoon.
He groaned, kissed her tenderly, then latched two fingers into the strap of her chemise and pulled it over her shoulder, sliding it down her arm, until the garment was gone and she was bare. He removed his plaid and hovered above her, powerful and thick. Daisy closed her eyes and pressed against him, teasing his lips with the tip of her tongue. He slipped his hand into the soft, warm flesh between her legs, and Daisy whimpered with unapologetic desire. She was ready for this moment; she’d imagined it since their first meeting.
Cailean was patient and deliberate, stroking her slowly as he kissed her face and neck. She sank into the moment, gave in to the sensation of his touch, to the feel of his body against hers. She gave in to her heart, beating so wildly in response to him. She gave in, she capitulated and finally she surrendered.
She closed her eyes and bit down on her lip as he began to stroke her, his fingers sliding over the wave of pleasure that was building, gathering itself from every corner of her body, swelling and nearing the point of bursting. She kissed him, tried frantically to memorize every plane of his body. He was intoxicatingly robust—beneath her fingertips she could feel the nicks and scars of his life, which made her want him even more.
She sank her fingers into the flesh of his arms, pressed her knee against him as he swirled his fingers around the core of her pleasure, sliding deep inside her, moving faster. He anchored her with one arm around her, his eyes on her face, watching her succumb to his touch and to the pleasure he was giving her.
“Now, Cailean,” she said, her voice ragged with passion and emotion. With a deep growl of approval, Cailean moved between her legs and pushed into her, filling her up.
Daisy was instantly transported. It was so exquisite that it was nearly unbearable. She moved with him and against him, urging him to abandon. Their eyes were locked on each other, a powerful current of mutual desire between them, each silently daring the other to crest the wave first, until Daisy shattered.
With a strangled cry, Cailean yanked free of her, spilling his seed on her thigh.
Daisy slowly floated back to earth. She threw an arm over her eyes and fought for breath. She could feel the heat coming off Cailean, could feel his heart pounding against his breast. He slowly fell onto his side beside her and laced his fingers with hers. “Are you still cross, then?” he asked raggedly.
Daisy smiled. She rolled onto her side, cupped his face and kissed him on the mouth. Her heart exalted in the sensation of having been freed of the prison of her desires after all these years.
“I will take that as a no, then,” he said. He kissed her cheek, her forehead and her mouth before gathering her in his arms and holding her to him.
An intangible bond, warm and shimmering, formed around them and seeped into Daisy’s bones. Her blood still flowed hot in her veins, and she wanted to remain like this forever. She wanted to keep the two of them in this bed, with the rest of the world held behind an invisible dam. She wanted to be with him, only him. She loved him. Oh, but she loved him. She realized that this was what true love felt like, heavy and fluid, wrapping itself around them, holding them together, enveloping them in this moment. No one could touch them here.
