Page 25 of The Highlander’s Hunted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #2)

25

“ W ell?” Katie pressed, her heart beating faster.

“There are things I regret,” he replied, coming to sit on the sill. “But last night wasnae one of them.”

She frowned. “So, why did ye bark at me this mornin’?”

“Because we were late,” he said simply. “And ye’d distracted me from me duties long enough.”

His hand skimmed the side of her thigh above the silk of her petticoats, the cascade of her green, split skirt tumbling down past the sill. Katie hadn’t realized she’d left herself so exposed, cursing herself for choosing such a fancy gown.

“If that’s the way ye treat lasses, I’m nae sure I?—”

A kiss stole away her protest, his hard chest pushing against the slope of her knees.

Before she could stop herself, she was kissing him back with a furious hunger, crushing her mouth to his with all the anger she’d carried since the inn. She grabbed his hair and pulled him closer, needing him to feel with every ebb and flow of her lips how cross she was with the way he’d behaved.

Curling his hand around her calf, he pulled her legs apart, sliding his upper body into the gap to kiss her harder. Her foot slipped off the ledge altogether, inviting him even closer. And considering she’d already given in, more or less, she saw no harm in draping her other leg around his lower back, pinning him to her as he pushed against her.

“If I’d regretted it,” he growled against her mouth, “I’d have told ye plainly.”

She believed him, or she thought she did—her mind wasn’t all that capable of having a clear thought at that moment, with her hands in his hair, his mouth on hers, fogging up her head with the heat of him and what he could do.

Just then, he slipped his arm around her, tugging her away from the deep window frame. With nothing to support her back, Katie found herself lying on the wide sill, staring up into his feverish eyes.

“Did ye make this dress?” he asked, surprising her.

She nodded. “Aye, for a village gathering, a few years ago.”

“In that case”—he smirked, dipping his head to kiss the sensitive spot just below her ear—“I willnae rip it too badly.”

Her breath caught, her back arching off the sill as he trailed kisses across her bosom, his hand gripping her thigh.

“Ye willnae… rip it at all,” she panted, knowing full well that she wouldn’t complain if he did. Not until after, anyway.

His mouth found hers again, her gasps punctuating each fierce press of his lips to hers and the sensual glide of his tongue against her own. Grasping fistfuls of his shirt, she could hardly bear the torment of feeling him between her thighs, the rock of his hips matching the fervent rhythm of their kiss. Only the easily moveable barrier of his plaid and the coy drape of her petticoats held her back from throwing caution to the wind, tossing her virtue into the gale of their passion.

As he kissed her, paying attention to the tingling skin of her neck and throat and bosom, his hand slid between them. With deft fingers that made her think of a different act, he teased the knot of her laces free from the hard edge of her bodice.

“Infernal ribbons,” he muttered, struggling to keep kissing her while trying to unfasten the triple-tied knot.

She couldn’t help but laugh, earning an almost playful glare from him.

He reeled back, and she reached for him, worried that her laughter had made him think twice about the situation. But her worry evolved into a different kind of concern when he drew a dirk from his boot. Her eyes widened as he brought the blade down… and she heard the first snap of a tight lace.

“I told ye nae to rip it,” she urged, a flood of passion replacing the fleeting burst of panic.

“Aye, I ken.”

Braced on one arm, he slid the dagger up the center of her bodice, each taut lace springing apart at the kiss of his sharp blade.

As the bodice fell to the sides, Hector tossed his dirk away, and it landed on a nearby settee. Katie didn’t want to fool herself, but she was almost certain he’d done it to reassure her that his earlier words remained true—he had no intention of causing her any harm.

His lips were on hers again in an instant, his hand pushing the shoulder loop of the bodice over her arms, dragging it down until it joined the dirk on the settee.

As their tongues danced, their kisses so fierce that Katie’s lips felt swollen, she heard him curse as he discovered the knot that held her split skirt in place. A quiet laugh rasped in the back of her throat as her hands slipped down to unfasten it, for that would have been far harder to replace.

As the skirt fell away, instinct overtook her. She grabbed his shirt and tugged it free of his belt, sighing in awe as she teased it up and over his head, baring him to her hungry eyes. The novelty, she knew, would never wear away. Every time she saw that perfect warrior’s physique, scars and all, it was like the first time, stealing her breath from her lungs.

Seemingly spurred on, Hector grabbed her by the hands and pulled her up until she was nearly in the position she’d started in. With deft hands, and searching lips, he freed her from her petticoats and shift until she sat naked on the windowsill.

I hope nay one can see me…

Her fear evaporated as she reached for his belt.

When she pulled at the buckle, Hector gripped her wrist to stop her. “Careful, lass.”

“What do ye mean?”

His eyes darkened, his lips curling into a shadowy smile. “Dinnae do what might risk that virtue of yers.”

“Nay, M’Laird,” she countered. “ Ye remember yer promise.”

She loosened the buckle, and the plaid fell away. Another sight that would never lose its thrill greeted her eyes, his manhood swollen… and somewhat intimidating. Yet, more than that, it roused her curiosity, leading her to touch it.

Hector growled in the back of his throat as her soft palm skimmed that hard flesh. She was surprised by how silky it felt. She stroked him again, and, this time, his hand around her wrist was more insistent.

Indeed, he grabbed her other wrist too and pinned it, along with the first one, above her head, flush to the wood of the wide sill.

“Dinnae tempt me, lass,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

Before she could indulge in some mischief, returning her hand to that hot, enticing flesh, he leaned back, out of her reach. But he wasn’t done with her, not in the slightest.

Wrapping his hands around her lower legs, she thought he might pin them too, but she gasped when he lifted them onto his broad shoulders.

He didn’t waste a moment, forgoing the slow exploration of the previous night, apparently deciding that he wasn’t finished with the night’s feasting.

His mouth fell upon her, his tongue enjoying a luxurious taste, trailing from the heat of her entrance to that pulsing bundle of eager nerves. Katie’s hips bucked involuntarily at the sudden burst of ecstasy, a wildfire roaring up from that incendiary source to the center of her being, shivering and pulsing through limbs that were already trembling with anticipation.

“Oh… M’Laird, oh…” she panted, her back arching off the sill, no longer caring if anyone could see them, naked and intertwined in full view of anyone outside the window.

He paused, making her cry out at the cruelty of it. “Me name, lass,” he growled. “Call me by me name.”

He dipped his head again, savoring her with a vengeance, offering no mercy as he lashed his tongue in torturous strokes. And when he curled his tongue around that secret bud and sucked gently, she thought she might lose her mind altogether, crying out with delirious abandon.

So many things she’d never imagined, so many things she had yet to learn, so many things she wanted to discover. A sweet escape from the motherly existence, where her life came last in the realm of priorities.

“Aye… oh, aye… Hector!” she half-screamed as he eased his fingers inside her, curling them slightly to add that delicious pressure to the crackling nerves within her.

Each faint thud of his palm against her mound made her dizzy, a pulsing conduit of pleasure in its own right, and it was pushing her to a treacherous brink where she might be prepared to risk everything to feel him inside her instead of his fingers. That hard flesh parting her, filling her, opening up a new world of bliss.

She had never known what it entailed, not exactly, but his talented fingers had allowed her to patch together most of the pieces she didn’t understand.

“Hector… God, Hector… Oh… Oh!” she cried out as his skilled tongue continued to work its exemplary magic, driving her to the highest heights of euphoria, spurring her on, closer and closer to the thunderous wave of her climax.

A few moments later, she unraveled.

Her entire body seized as that potent bliss was unleashed at last, her hands gripping her thighs, her lungs on fire, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Her eyes squeezed shut as her head swam with that singular pleasure, though she couldn’t yet make a sound, her throat tight with the sensation coursing through her.

At once, the pressure in her throat eased, and an almighty cry rose to the rafters. She called his name. She swore in a coarse tongue that would have shocked her if she’d been in control of herself. She panted and moaned and writhed, her whole being alight with that exquisite bliss. A feeling so powerful that it couldn’t possibly be a merely mortal thing, but a gift from the skies.

She wasn’t fully aware of how much time had passed, or where she was, until the pleasure slowly began to ebb, bringing her back down to Earth.

The tide of ecstasy receded, leaving her limp and grinning, her body so relaxed that she could have fallen asleep right there on the sill. Little pulses and sparks lingered, her breathing taking a while longer to return to normal, her skin finally warmed up in a way no bath could achieve.

Pressing a soft kiss to that hidden pearl, making her jolt with a residual thrill, Hector turned his kisses to the inside of her thighs and slowly eased his fingers out, eliciting another shiver from her.

He kissed his way back up her body, finally taking the time to give attention to every part of her. His lips left no spot of skin untouched, and as she trembled with the bliss of it all, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was another generous gesture—letting her know that he wasn’t dismissing her or pushing her away, as he’d done that morning. That he was content to linger, regretting nothing.

At last, his mouth found hers, coaxing a softer gasp from her throat as she felt him between her thighs. Kissing her harder, he rolled his hips, the thick length of him gliding through her sodden folds, stirring up what had just begun to simmer down.

“Dinnae tempt me,” she whispered, echoing his earlier words.

He buried his face in her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, but his hips stilled. As if realizing the danger he was putting himself in by breaking his promise to her.

She ran her hands over the rippling muscles of his back, her fingertips feeling where his silver scars interrupted the smoothness of unmarred skin, and pulled him nearer.

His arms slipped beneath her, embracing her, as he lay still on top of her, kissing along her collarbone to the peak of her shoulder, then back the way he’d come, diverting his kisses up the column of her throat and, at last, back to her mouth.

With one last kiss, he pulled back, gazing down at her with those gleaming gray eyes, no longer quite so cold.

“We should return to the feast before we’re missed,” he said, with a note of regret.

But nae about this, she reminded herself with a contented smile.

“Aye, well, that’s as may be,” she said, tutting playfully. “But I need new laces first. Lucky for ye, I happen to be a seamstress who thought she was comin’ to fix someone else’s dress.”

Sitting back, pulling her up as he did, Hector shook his head. “I’ll kill her.” He puffed out a breath. “One of these days, I might actually kill her.”