Page 75 of Bride of the Wicked Laird
He paused, withdrawing from her, so that she moaned and called his name again.
“Now, sit up fer me.” His voice was husky with passion. “I wish ye tae be naked. I want tae see ye lying there and let me eyes partake of yer beauty. I want tae see yer lovely face as I trace me fingers over every part of ye.”
Obediently, she levered herself up on her elbows so that she sat before him, and raised her arms. In a trice he had taken her gown up and over her head, stripping her. He flung it, without care, to the floor. Then he untied her petticoat, raising her hips so he could peel it off.
The quivering and fizzing had all but taken her over as he seized her shoulders and took her lips into another kiss. He leaned himself on one elbow as she fell back to the softness of the pillows, her loosened hair spreading around her. His freed hand traced from the arch of her throat, across her shoulders, finding her breast again.
She snaked her arms about his shoulders, marveling at the strength of his muscular arms and the ease with which he held her as if she weighed no more than wee Feather.
“I am curious, me laird MacNeil. I wish tae lay me eyes on ye,” she murmured. She studied him as he lay over her, his shirt open, to her gaze so that she was able to enjoy his shapely, hard, belly and the broad, powerful chest with its smattering of black hair.
Her fingers toyed with the fabric of his shirt, and she raised it just a little.
“Nay, lass. Leave me shirt as it is.”
Registering a warning in his voice she removed her hand from him as if she’d been burned. “I dinnae understand. Ye take me gown, and leave me naked before yer eyes. As ye said, ye wish tae see all of me. Yet ye willnae grant me the same.”
His only response was a soulful groan.
Aileen didnae tell me of this. She said lads enjoyed their own nakedness.
“Ye’re right, me sweet Davina. Ye only ask of me what ye give me so readily.”
“Can ye explain this tae me? I wish tae gaze on ye, as mayhap ye wish tae gaze on me. Fer love, fer passion, fer delighting in one tae the other.”
He flung himself onto his back beside her and she eased herself down to lie against him, her hand reaching over his chest, her head on his shoulder.
He gave a soft laugh. “I’ve nay wish tae hide me shaft from yer wicked gaze, lass.”
“Then what is it that keeps ye from being naked before me?”
He studied her face for several moments without saying another word. Then he huffed. as if he was giving in to her. “Mayhap I can explain.”
When she nodded, he began speaking, but now his eyes were on a distant point on the canopy above the bed.
“I ken ye were raised by a cruel man. A man who showed ye nay love.”
She nodded, wondering where this was leading. She had no wish to be reminded of her father at this moment when all she wished to think of was loving.
“I ken ye dinnae wish tae hear aught but joy on this happy night of ours. But, ye’re right. I must explain meself.” He went on. “Me faither, too, was nae a kind man. He was ruthless, cruel attimes, and insisted that all should obey him. Nae matter what he demanded.”
Davina drew in a breath. This was taking her to a place she didnae wish to dwell in. She raised her arm and placed a hand on his solid forearm. “Ye dinnae have tae tell me, if this story of yers will bring sadness tae our joy.”
He stroked the soft skin of her hand, folding his arm across his forehead. “Mayhap I understand more than ye ken about what ye suffered at the hands of yer fiather. ‘Twas well that yer brother took ye away.”
She gave him a tiny smile, taking his calloused hand and bringing it to her lips for a soft kiss. “But how daes this concern ye and yer shirt?”
“Because she wasnae a lad, me faither disliked me sister Raven, a lass as sweet as a spring day, who ye have yet tae meet.” He moved his arm to tuck it around Davina’s shoulders and held her close. “He wished her tae marry a man who was naught but a brute. A grey-hair, whose wife had died, mayhap at his evil hands. When Raven refused his suit, our faither locked her in her room fer days, without food.”
Davina’s hand flew to her lips in horror, her mind racing back to the privations of the Priory under the cruel ministrations of Dame Maria.
“And what happened? Did yer sister agree tae wed this man?”
He gave a sad smile. “Nay, despite her sweetness she has a strong-will and the determination of a warrior. She was ready tae starve before she’d accept the man.”
Davina shuddered. This was all too familiar. “And he beat her again?”
Everard nodded. “That time he took tae her with his horsewhip. But I came upon him torturing her. I couldnae allow such a thing and I fought him. I dealt him a hard blow that felled him, forcing him tae leave me sister be.”
