Page 44 of A Two-Faced Laird
She looked around the room, which was a little like Aidan himself. There were no greys or browns here. The rugs on the floor were woven in bright jewel colours, and the curtains and bed clothes were made of deep crimson linen.
All the furniture was crafted in bright glossy mahogany, as opposed to the dark ebony she had seen in the chambers and offices of other men. There were even a few bronze vases containing the last of the autumn wildflowers on the tables.
Around the walls she saw many excellent paintings of local landscapes and a few portraits, although she did not know the identities of the subjects. It was not an ostentatious room, but neither was it drab, and she liked it at once.
Edina knew she could be happy here, but she put the thought out of her mind at once. This was an oasis of happiness in a sea of—what? Misery? No, there had to be happiness without Aidan. She knew there was somewhere, although at the moment it was hard to think about.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the delicious brush of his lips on the sensitive nape of her neck. Edina shivered and giggled, then she felt Aidan’s dexterous fingers working on the laces at the back of her dress. Eventually, it was undone, and he pulled the dress from her shoulders to let it fall on the floor. He undressed while she worked on her corset and chemise.
At last, they were standing naked in front of each other, and once more they marvelled at the sight of their bodies before Aidan swept Edina into his arms and laid her on the bed. He was just about to lie down beside her when she smiled at him mischievously.
“Do you know what book I have been reading these days?” she asked.
“No, and I hardly think we should be talking about books at a time like this!” Aidan was impatient. He wanted—needed—to be inside her.
“It was a kind of instruction book,” she told him. “About how two people could give each other the most pleasure in bed.”
“Ah! That kind of book,” Aidan grinned. “And what did you learn?”
“This.”
She took hold of his hard shaft and closed her fingers around it, making it even harder in response to her touch. He groaned, then gasped as Edina’s hand worked up and down the column of his manhood. It was glorious, but presently it became sublime when she took him in her mouth and closed her lips around him. Aidan cried out, unable to stop himself.
A few seconds later, Edina stopped and looked up at him.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered desperately.
Edina resumed her ministrations, licking, sucking and scraping him with her teeth until he suddenly jerked and let out a long moan. She let go of him then, and he spilled his seed on her chest.
Aidan took a few moments to recover, then bent over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders.
“You wicked woman!” he said, grinning at her. Edina laughed and snuggled into his body again.
After a short while of lying silently in each other’s arms, they made love again and again into the night.
16
At some time during the night, Edina woke up. She sat up in bed, not knowing where she was for a moment. When she realised she was in Aidan’s room, she put out her hand to touch him, only to realise that his side of the bed was empty. He was standing by the window looking out, so she rose from the bed and went to join him.
When she reached him, however, she realised that there were tears streaming down his face.
“Oh, my love,” she whispered, as she wrapped her arms around him. “Are you feeling okay?”
Aidan wiped his tears away irritably. “What a weak man I am. You should be glad you are not marrying me.” His tone was bitter.
“Do not say that!” Edina begged. “I would give anything to marry you, Aidan. You are the love of my life, and I do not think it is weak for a man to cry. You just lost your brother, and all your hope. It is a strong man who can show his emotions. Why should it only be women who are allowed to weep?”
Aidan cupped her face in his hands, and by the dim light of the moon looked again into her fascinating eyes. Fenella’s were arather ordinary shade of hazel, which did not have any effect on him at all.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “No one understands me as you do, Edina.”
She took his hand, and they climbed back into bed.
“You were thinking of Lewis, were you not?” she asked tenderly. “You must miss him so much. I wish I had not been the one to tell you.”
He shrugged. “It’s done now, and in some ways, Edina, it is a relief.” He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “I always suspected that he was gone. Countless times, I tried to imagine that he would walk through the door, hale and hearty. I thought of him putting his arms around me and giving me one of those hugs that used to nearly break my ribs!”
He laughed, but it was a sad sound.
