Page 94 of Sweet Home Highlander
Later that evening, an exhausted but euphoric Aisla was undressing for bed at Tarbendale. She couldn’t curb her happiness. She’d been terrified that Niall would reject her, but all of that had gone away the minute his eyes had met hers. After her solemn proposal, the rest of the evening had passed in a magical haze, full of dancing and laughter and so much love it’d felt like her heart would not be able to contain it all.
“Did it go as you expected, my lady?” Pauline asked as she unhooked and unlaced Aisla’s dress and corset.
“Better,” she said dreamily. “Oh, Pauline, he said yes.”
“Mais oui,” she said. “He would have to be blind to not succumb to your beauty.”
He’d been beautiful, too. Niall had looked so bloody handsome and desirable in his dress kilt that she’d wanted to drag him to the floor of that ballroom and have her wanton way with him. What had happened, however, was a close second. The kiss itself had been scandalous, but it was soon forgotten after Hamish got into a drunken argument with Julien about what Scotsmen wore—ordidn’twear—under their dress kilts. And then had come the proof, led of course by Niall’s unruly brothers, Finlay and Evan. Lady Dunrannoch’s ball would forever be cursed, or blessed, depending on who one spoke to, by the unveiling of three sets of bare arses.
Aisla fought back a giggle, wondering whether Niall had forgone undergarments like his best friend and brothers. Heat pushed into her cheeks at the ribald thought. They’d danced the waltz at one point, and she’d felt his swelling erection through her skirts. Her gasp had been audible. He’d shot her a racy grin, his eyes falling to her plump décolletage. It appeared that Pauline’s predictions about her figure had been true.
“What do ye expect looking the way ye do, lass? I’m only a man after all.” His voice had gone low and husky. “Dunnae fash, we’ll be doing a different kind of dancing later.”
Aisla had nearly stumbled over her own two feet, as her body had instantly responded to his provocative words. Her blood had felt as if it were on fire, pounding through her veins like liquid flame. She’d become so hot that she was worried she was going to swoon, and only the firm grip of his arm about her waist kept her upright. The warm clasp of his body against hers had upended her in other indecent ways, however.
And hours later, she tingled still with anticipation.
Pauline pursed her lips as she lifted a gossamer night rail over Aisla’s head and then handed her a robe. “I am happy to see you smiling again.”
“So am I.”
With expert hands, Pauling took down her intricate coiffure, brushing the waist-length locks. “Did you tell him?”
“No, I…”
“Tell me what?” a voice said from the doorway.
Niall stood there, his arms folded casually across his chest. He still wore his kilt, though his jacket was gone as was his cravat. His shirt was open at the throat, the small section of bronzed skin making Aisla inexplicably breathless. With a blush, the maid handed her the brush and bobbed a curtsy with a meaningful look in her direction, and then took her leave.
“What was that about?” he asked coming into the room.
“Pauline is just being Pauline,” she said as he took the brush from her and began combing her hair. “You don’t have to do that.”
But she forgot her words as he sifted his fingers through the glossy strands and lifted a handful of her hair to his cheek. “Like the softest gold-spun silk,” he murmured and inhaled deeply. “I love yer scent. Honey blossoms andye.”
Placing the brush on the dresser and watching her in the looking glass, he lifted the hair off of her right shoulder and kissed her exposed nape. Aisla’s entire body trembled as gooseflesh sprung under his softly roving lips. His eyes wouldn’t release hers and she felt the burn of desire in them as clearly as she felt his hot mouth branding her skin.
Good God, she was going to incinerate from the inside out.
Aisla reached for the edge of the dresser to steady herself as his kisses climbed the column of her neck and then back down across the back of her nape to the other side. She could feel his arousal prodding against her back, and it made her weak kneed, reminding her of the carnal dance he’d alluded to. Her breasts ached, every part of her grew hot, and a wicked pulse started to throb between her legs.
Niall let her hair fall, and cupped her jaw, tilting her chin back toward him and then his mouth took hers. It was nothing like the kiss in the ballroom. This kiss was explosive and possessive and raw. It took, it claimed. Itscorched. Even with the awkward side angle, Aisla felt the kiss clear to her toes. And all the while, he pressed himself against her, grinding his lean hips into her buttocks in blatant imitation of the act she was beginning to crave with desperate need.
“God, I’ve missed ye,” he said, releasing her mouth but trailing wet kisses up her cheek to her temple even as his hand wandered down her chest to undo the ties to her robe. It puddled to the floor in a pile of cream silk. His eyes greedily devoured her in the mirror, seeing her rose-pink nipples rising proudly through the thin lawn and the hint of shadow further down at the tops of her legs. One hand shaped the curve of her right breast, his eyes rising back to hold hers as he rolled her nipple lightly between his fingers. He gave the second nipple the same attention, until they were both taut and aching. Bolts of delicious heat shot from her breasts to her thighs. Aisla couldn’t help her moan of pleasure, her lips parting in helpless surrender.
Finally, he turned her to face him. His eyes were like blue fire, blatant arousal burning in them. His lips were thick and wet from her mouth, and suddenly she needed to taste them again. Aisla wound her arms about his neck, and took what she wanted. She bit and nibbled at his mouth, loving the hot velvety feel of him, slipping her tongue inside to find and tease his. He growled in response and clutched her to him, deepening the kiss.
“I’ve wanted this since that last time in your chamber,” she said with a blush.
“It’s all I’ve thought of for weeks as well.”
Emboldened by his admission, Aisla dragged him toward her, feeling his body harden with passion as she palmed his firm buttocks. “I forgot to tell you I want lots of children.”
“Then we better get started,” he said with a lusty grin.
“I have something else to tell you.”
He nibbled at her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth and making her moan. “Can it no’ wait?”
