Page 52 of The Outlaw's Bride
Adaira and Lachlann eventually turned their backs on the fires and moved away from the edge of the woodland. Moonlight shone through the trees as Lachlann led his horse deep into the woods. Adaira followed. A cold veil settled over the world now, and another night of clear skies promised a frost in the morning. Shivering, Adaira pulled her cloak close.
They made camp for the night in a tiny glade surrounded by ash and oaks. The trees were losing their leaves, and Adaira’s feet rustled through them. She stopped, waiting while Lachlann tethered the stallion.
“It’s so cold,” she breathed. “Can we not light a fire?”
He glanced over at her, his face all sculpted planes in the moonlight. “Not this close to Kiltaraglen … there will be folk up for a while yet.”
Adaira drew her cloak closer. “But we’ll freeze.”
He cast her another look, one so heated that it made her belly flutter.
Adaira went still. After Lachlann had ended their last kiss abruptly, she’d thought he would avoid looking at her like that. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so cold in the glade. Adaira was acutely aware of Lachlann’s nearness. Her heart started to hammer. They stared at each other for a long moment. She saw the hunger in his eyes, the way his chest now rose and fell sharply, but he didn’t reach for her.
She realized then that he wouldn’t.
Lachlann wanted her to make the decision. This needed to be her choice.
Breathing shallowly, Adaira stepped toward him. “Will ye keep me warm?”
She couldn’t believe she’d asked him such a thing. Part of her was terrified, and yet another part—one she’d only just discovered—was thrilled by her boldness.
Lachlann wet his lips. “I shouldn’t.”
Adaira took another tentative step toward him. “What do ye want, Lachlann?”
“Don’t make me answer that,” he said huskily. “It’ll scare ye off.”
Adaira held his gaze, her heart hammering so loud she was sure he must have heard it. “I’m not scared,” she lied. “And I know whatIwant …ye.”
Silence fell between them. Adaira saw a nerve flicker in his cheek and knew he was struggling.
“Come here, Aingeal.” The raw edge to his voice made her stomach dive.
Without stopping to think, for she would surely lose her nerve, Adaira stepped forward into the circle of his arms.
Lachlann reached out and cupped her face. The feel of his touch made her stifle a gasp. It had a magical effect, both steadying and exciting her.
Heart pounding, Adaira leaned toward him. Her gaze was on his mouth now. She ached for another taste of him.
With a growl Lachlann captured her mouth with his.
Adaira couldn’t help it; a low groan escaped her. The feel of his lips moving over hers, the glide of his tongue, and the heat of his mouth, unleashed something primal within her. She linked her arms about his neck, pressing herself against him, while she responded to his kiss hungrily.
He was delicious. She could happily drown in the feel of his mouth ravaging hers.
Adaira’s hands traveled down, over his broad shoulders to his chest, exploring, before they slid over the hard muscles of his upper arms. Even through the layers of clothing separating them, she could feel his strength, his contained power.
Lachlann gently bit her lower lip, before his mouth trailed down to her neck.
Adaira sighed and sank against him. Her cloak fell away, and his hands explored the curve of her back. Then he cupped her bottom and pulled her hard against him.
Even through the loose material of his braies, Adaira felt Lachlann’s arousal—his rigid, hot shaft—pressed up against her belly. A pulse began between her thighs, a deep throbbing ache that made her writhe against him.
Lachlann muttered a curse, grabbed hold of Adaira, and steered her backward.
Two paces brought the pair of them up against the trunk of an oak, a mattress of fallen leaves around their ankles. Pressed against the rough bark, Adaira wound her arms around Lachlann’s neck once more, her mouth seeking his.
Their kisses turned wild, wet. Her body pulsed with need, the sensation intensifying when he slid his leg between her thighs. His hands gripped the hem of her léine and kirtle, drawing them up around her hips. The cold night air kissed Adaira’s naked skin, but when she shivered, it wasn’t from the chill.
