Page 50 of How to Heal a Highland Heart
He paused in his lovely feasting upon her nipple to say, “Ye want more?”
“Aye. Please,” she shamelessly begged.
He rolled off her as he took her by the waist to swing her over his hips. Her gown creeped up her legs as she straddled him on the bed, and his hand slipped under her clothing to skim her hips and higher. And then he stilled, fingers hovering, then tracing the rough scar Ivan had left on her right thigh after he’d lashed her so badly that he’d cut her flesh wide open.
“What’s this?” Brodee asked. The single question reminded her of Silas, of his shaming her and listing her flaws, including the scars Ivan had left on her body. Doubt invaded her desire. If this continued, he would see all the things that made her so imperfect. And maybe she would prove to be just as broken as Silas had claimed, just as unresponsive to the actual act of joining and only feel the pain, not the pleasure, only experience loathing and not wanting.
She tugged up her gown and pushed away from him, her hand against a chest that may as well have been carved of stone. She didn’t even get her palm off the hard surface of his hot flesh before his fingers circled her wrist. “I kinnae,” she said, trying to scoot back, but his free hand slid behind her back and pressed against her tailbone. She felt his desire in the hardness that she had unleashed, had practically demanded he release.
“What is it?” His gaze burned into hers. “Tell me the fears Kincaide instilled in yer heart, and I’ll destroy them. Tell me why ye hear his voice, and I’ll silence it.”
It was now or never. She could live a life of fear or she could release herself from the chains. She reached her free, trembling hand to the edge of her gown and pulled it up to the scar Ivan had left on her leg. Then she pointed. “This is but one scar Ivan left with me. There are more, and they are ugly. Silas reminded me of it every time he viewed me without clothes.”
Brodee’s hands immediately came to her waist, and he set her off him in one fluid motion. She blinked as he towered above her, and then her heart twisted painfully. He was disgusted. But then he bent toward her, set his hands to her ankles, and tugged her gently to the edge of the bed.
“What are ye doing?” she asked, the weaker her trying to resurface.
The look of tenderness that he gave her instantly calmed her, but when he kneeled between her legs and put his large palms to either of her knees, she tensed. “Lass, ye could have a thousand scars, and all I would see is the beauty in yer heart, which shines through in yer eyes, yer smile, in every gesture ye make.”
“What gestures?” she asked, so intrigued that she forgot to keep her legs locked, and he eased them open, positioning himself between her thighs. She hissed in a breath, and he arched his eyebrows.
“The way ye stand up for others and are more concerned for their welfare than yer own.” He bent his head and brushed his lips to her scar. She went immediately rigid, but there was no closing her thighs with him between them. When he came up, he had an assessing look on his face. “Ye’ve nae ever had a man intent upon ye between yer legs, have ye?”
Heat singed every part of her body, even parts she’d not realized could feel the flush of embarrassment. “Of course I have had a man between my legs,” she said, her voice catching as his fingers traced a gentle path up and down her inner thighs. “I’ve been wed twice.”
“Aye. To fools. One who beat ye and another who made ye feel utterly worthless. Whatever Kincaide convinced ye about yerself is a lie.”
She shook her head. “Maybe some of it, but nae all of it. I dunnae feel passion,” she said, “for the joining. I…I nae ever have. Nae with Ivan or Silas.” Brodee watched her steadily, but he did not comment, so she continued, wanting to get the truth out there. She was tired of holding it in. “Mayhap the way they treated me was my fault. I failed as a wife.”
“Ye dunnae believe that,” he said, his voice strong and carrying a unique force, one that compelled her to look inward for a moment.
“Nae totally, but I’m scairt. What if something is wrong with me? What if I simply kinnae feel anything good during the joining? Ye would, ye would—”
“Dunnae fash, Patience. There is a difference between having a man between yer thighs and having a man who isthere for yebetween yer thighs. Though I dunnae wish ye the pain that has come with nae having the latter, I’d be a liar if I did nae admit that I’m glad I’ll be the first and only man to introduce ye to pleasure and wipe away any doubt that ye can feel it and give it.” He smiled at her, his gaze smoldering. “Lie back,” he said in a gentle tone.
She nibbled on her lip, nervous. “Should we talk first? Ye have spent a week avoiding me, and I… Well, I did do my best to keep ye away.”
He guided her back with care until she was staring at the ceiling, then to her complete and utter astonishment, he relieved her of her undergarments in one swift motion. She went to close her legs, but his firm hands stopped her. “What are ye doing?” she asked, her voice a breathy whisper. She tried to rise, but his hand whipped up to urge her to stay down.
“Ye will need to be lying back for what I intend to do to ye,” he explained. “Ye’ll be that weak when I’m done.”
“Ye’re verra certain of yerself,” she chided.
“Aye, in this I am. Ye’ll be glad of it, too, I vow it.”
Her fingers found his shoulders, and she gripped him. “Did ye learn this by doing it to the woman ye were to wed?”
“God’s teeth,” he muttered.
She cringed. Why had she mentioned that? She should have left it alone until after they had joined, after he had made her weak. Every fiber of her being wanted to experience that weakness by his hands. But he loomed over her so fast her breath caught.
His legs came to either side of her hips to lock her in, and his hands rested by her arms, his muscles bulging just from bearing his weight. “I see we do actually need to talk first.” He did not sound happy.
“I’m sorry,” she said, both out of habit and because she truly was.
“Dunnae,” he said, leaning down and gently brushing his lips to hers, “apologize. ’Tis I who should do so. Ye asked to talk to me, and to be honest, it’s just about killed me to restrain my desire for ye this last week, so when I finally gave in, the last thing on my mind was talking about our pasts. But that was selfish, and ye have had yer fill of selfish men.”
She stared at him in amazement. “Ye’re verra surprising.”
