Page 122 of To Wed an Heiress
“Exactly,” she said, smiling at him. “I was, however, able to get a good look, which was very educational. Although I have to say, Lennox, that it wasn’t sufficient preparation for you.”
She wrapped both hands around Lennox.
“Mercy.” His voice sounded different, almost strained.
“Am I doing something wrong?” she asked, her gaze fixed on her hands.
“I’ve wanted you to touch me for a week, but perhaps it would be better if you didn’t do that right now.”
She looked up at him. “A week, Lennox?”
He nodded.
“We could’ve eased each other,” she said. “I wanted you to come to my room, but you were too honorable.”
“But there’s no restriction now, my love. You and I can stay in this bed for a week if we wish.”
“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” She reluctantly released him, scooted back on the bed, and lay down.
He was instantly there, covering her. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and smiled in welcome.
“I was so miserable,” she said. “I was trying to figure out how I could possibly live without you.”
“Now you don’t have to.”
“I know. It’s my miracle. Elizabeth has hers and I have mine. You’re my miracle.”
“I love you, Mercy Caitheart. I don’t think I expected to love anyone, but there you were, glaring up at me, giving me all sorts of orders.”
“I thought you were exceedingly handsome,” she said. “Too handsome. All the exceedingly handsome men I had met in the past were so filled with their own consequence. Not you, though. You were interested in things other than yourself. I was fascinated by you from the beginning.”
“Then I thank your parents for protecting you too much,” he said. “Because if you hadn’t wanted your freedom you would never have come to Scotland.”
“And if you hadn’t been flying your airship, you would never have crashed into us.”
“Fate,” he said.
“Destiny,” she countered.
He kissed her then and all thoughts of how they met vanished from her mind. All she knew was that it was Lennox, her love, and life was suddenly special and exciting.
He palmed her breasts and found her nipples. With each touch, her body thrummed, the sensations building. The core of her was an inferno, a fire that he effortlessly stroked. She wanted him with her, in her, but every time she urged him, he kissed her lightly and whispered, “Soon.”
“Don’t tease,” she said.
He only kissed her again and she could feel his lips curving in a smile.
What she was feeling wasn’t quite pain, but it was more than pleasure. Need soared through her, making every inch of skin ache. Her nipples grew harder, seeming to summon his lips.
She stroked her hands from his shoulders, down his arms, loving the feel of him, savoring each flexed muscle as he hovered over her. Even his back was beautiful, and she discovered that his buttocks were soft pillows for her hands.
“Now who’s teasing?” he asked.
He nibbled at her throat, then continued the biting kisses down to her breasts.
He moved to the side, propping himself up on one forearm, one hand dancing across her stomach, and then gently combing the hair at the apex of her thighs.
“Mercy,” he said, as his fingers played among her folds. Just her name, spoken with his beautiful voice, his Scottish accent amazingly seductive.
