Page 63 of Tempted By a Highland Beast
“That night ye saw me,” he said carefully, “was that the first time ye’d ever seen a man... like that?”
Rowena’s silence was answer enough. The way her eyes dropped, the deepening flush across her throat, told him everything he needed to know.
“Ye dinnae have tae be afraid of it,” he said quietly.
“I’m nae afraid.”
“Nay?” He smiled then, not mocking but almost fond. “Then what dae ye feel, lass?”
“I’m nae sure. But I want tae ken what desire feels like.” Rowena said and Constantine’s gaze followed her as she moved toward the bed, sitting on its edge with her hands folded in her lap like a proper lady.
Yet there was nothing proper about the way Constantine looked at her. He tried to maintain any composure he had left. “May I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the space beside her.
She nodded and the mattress dipped under his weight, and suddenly he was close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
“Rowena.” Her name on his lips was almost reverent. “Dae ye want me tae touch ye?”
The question hung in the air between them, loaded with possibility and promise. Constantine watched the emotions flow through her face, and he could guess what she was thinking. But he didn’t want her to think just then.
He ran his finger feather light from her ankle to knee, and she shuddered. “Dae ye want tae feel me hands on ye, Rowena?”
She nodded quickly, as if afraid to change her mind.
Constantine’s hand went up slowly, giving her time to pull away, to change her mind. When she didn’t, his fingers traced the line of her jaw, her throat, the sensitive skin just below her ear that made her shiver.
“Tell me if ye want me tae stop,” he murmured, his breath warm against her temple.
“I will.”
His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if she were something precious that might break. His fingers mapped the curve of her neck, the hollow of her throat, the rapid pulse that betrayed her arousal.
“So soft,” he breathed, and she felt the words as much as she heard them. “I’ve wanted tae touch ye like this since that first day.”
“Have ye?”
“Aye.” His hand moved lower, tracing the neckline of her gown, the swell of her breasts beneath the fabric. “Every night since ye came tae Duart, I’ve imagined what it would be like tae have ye in me bed. What sounds ye might make. How ye might taste.”
Rowena’s breath hitched. “Constantine…”
“Dae ye want tae ken what I was thinking that night ye found me?” His voice was rough now, edged with desire. “I was imagining ye in me bed, naked and wanting. I was thinking about kissing ye, touching ye, making ye mine in every way that matters.”
“Ye shouldnae say such things,” she whispered, but Constantine felt how her body betrayed her, leaning into his touch.
“Why? Because it’s improper?”
“Because it makes me want things I shouldnae want.”
“Like what?”
“Like... like what ye were daeing that night. What it might feel like if... if it were me instead of yer hand.”
Constantine went very still beside her, his breathing shallow. “Rowena…”
“I’m a fool,” she said quickly, starting to pull away. “I shouldnae have said?—”
His hand caught hers, holding her in place. “Ye’re nae a fool. Ye’re a woman with desires. There’s naethin’ shameful about that.”
“But I dinnae understand them. These feelings, this... want. It frightens me.”
