Page 56 of Taming the Scot
“I can do that too. Did I no’ prove it tonight?”
The column of her delicate throat bobbed. “But your sisters, their possible matches…”
“No man would dare turn away one of my sisters because of who I married, and if they did, then they would no’ be worthy of her love or my respect.” Euan couldn’t hold back. He reached for her hand, encircling her slim, calloused gloveless fingers. “I love ye, Bronwen. With all my heart. And I ask ye again to be my wife.”
“But—”
He shook his head. “Nay, love. No buts.” With her gray eyes growing teary again, he kept his serious stare locked on her. “Do ye want to spend your life with me?”
She bit her lip and then nodded. “Aye, verra much. I can no’ tell ye how much I’ve longed to hear the words. How much my heart yearns for yours. How much it hurt to run. Ye saw those men. How can I risk them coming here, harming your sisters?”
“I know ye’re scared, and I promised ye protection. I almost failed in that tonight. I swear, love, I will see they are punished.”
“That’s no’ all. My parents’ debts. I can no’ put that on ye. And I do no’ want to be the downfall of ye or your sisters. How will they ever marry with me in the picture?”
He smiled and tugged her against him, pressing her head to his heart, exactly where she belonged. “Do no’ worry over such. I’ve plenty of coin, and my sisters will be fine. We will be just fine. Ye lift us up, my love, as ye have from the moment ye arrived.”
“Oh, Euan. I love ye so much.” Her fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket as she clung to him.
The words he’d craved fell off her tongue in a sweet, soothing caress. “Och, I love ye more.”
He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her flush to him, and bent to kiss her, capturing her mouth in what was at first a gentle kiss but which quickly consumed him. He needed to convey in this one kiss all that he felt, wanted. A promise of the future, of love and pleasure. He swept his tongue across her bottom lip, teasing the flesh there. Timidly, she parted her lips, her tongue caressing the corner of his mouth. He groaned deep in his throat, returning the tease with his own. She tasted of the punch they’d drank earlier and something sweeter, spicier. Something that was all her. Bronwen moaned and opened her lips for him, beckoning Euan to deepen the kiss.
To take all that she offered and more—to show her how much he needed her, wanted her.
Cupping a hand against her cheek, Euan threaded his fingers through her locks. Her hair was softer than silk, and the scent of flowers and Bronwen’s own aura enveloped him. She leaned into his touch and then reached up to explore his hair too. Her fingers ran deliciously through his hair, somehow feeling even more intimate than a kiss. To be able to hold the woman he loved like this, when an hour before he’d been afraid of losing her.
Her head fell to the side, leaving her delicate neck exposed fully for his roving mouth to explore. As he kissed the place where her pulse leapt, her breath came in little pants. God, he loved that sound. He traced his fingers over the gooseflesh that rose along her arms, wanting to lift her and crush her body to his and never let go.
“Oh,” she sighed as his lips traversed the length of her neck to tease behind her ear. A little moan of pleasure escaped her and sent tremors of sharp need careening through his body.
This touch, this kiss, was almost too good to be true. She’d said she loved him. That meant she was his, did it no’?
“I want to spend every day for the rest of our lives worshipping ye.” He nibbled on her collarbone while his fingers traced the outline of her petite, pert breasts.
He rubbed a thumb over her hardened nipple and nearly lost his sense of control when she mewled with delicious pleasure, her back arching.
“Let me love ye,” he crooned. “I beg ye.”
“Aye, love me,” she crooned against his ear as she came up to kiss the spot, mimicking his earlier movement.
Dear God, if he could hear her say that over and over again... Her ardor was like a potent remedy, putting him into a daze of frenzied desire.
“I want to see ye…” he murmured. Her gown was already falling off her shoulders, and with a few flicks of his fingers, he had the fabric sliding down her arms. Through the sheer chemise, he could make out the creamy swell of her rosy-tipped breasts. Flawless. With a finger, he tugged the fabric low until one of her breasts popped free, and she gasped.
Her trusting gaze met his with a question.
“Ye’re beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so glorious in my life as your perfect breasts.”
Bronwen laughed at that, making a move to cover herself—he suspected out of a little embarrassment—but he stayed her movements with his hand. He cupped her bare breast, marveling at the soft silk of her skin, the warmth of it. With a fingertip, he caressed the underside of her breast until he couldn’t take it any longer, and he swept in to take a delectable nipple between his lips.
Bronwen gasped, her fingers curling back into his hair.
Blood pooled in Euan’s groin as desire flooded him, shoving reason aside. The need to push into her slick folds was intense and growing. Continuing his attentions on her breasts with his mouth, he slowly massaged her hip, desperately wanting to bring her to the bed or sink to the floor. Or even the small settee or window seat. Anywhere they could entwine their bodies together.
He opened his eyes to stare into her eyes, cloudy gray storms filling with intense passion. “Bronwen?” he asked.
“Aye?”
